Before he answered, he glanced at Holo, who seemed to be keeping a bit of a distance, perhaps to avoid interfering with their conversation. “I’m quite a failure as a traveling merchant, I should say. So you’re not wrong about that.”
Le Roi grinned, but there was not so much as a trace of a smile from Holo. Perhaps that was because her own plan had been so quickly kicked aside, or perhaps it was the revelation of Lawrence’s jealousy of her pack mate in Yoitsu.
But she did not seem angry so much as utterly at a loss. He was certain that if he asked her if this was so, he would receive an affirmative answer via her thrown fist.
“But still, Mr. Lawrence. Worry yourself not. Forcing people to do something they loathe with a smile on my face is my nature,” said Le Roi.
Frustratingly, it was these words that Holo finally smiled at under her hood.
Le Roi had been doing just that when they had first met him at Philon’s shop. Prick an opponent’s conscience, and one could make them do whatever they wished.
“So this sort of thing is right in my wheelhouse. And the bigger the prey, the greater the feeling of accomplishment, eh?”
Elsa had been exactly right about Le Roi. His avarice made him trustworthy.
Lawrence nodded. “I look forward to seeing your results,” he replied, and left it at that.
EPILOGUE
When they returned to Philon’s shop, there were piles of eel roasted and waiting for them. When informed of this, Philon was even more overjoyed than Holo—and he had a suggestion.
“We’ll need some strong wine, then! The eels from the river here go best with a good strong wine. And we have to celebrate the execution—or amendment, I suppose—of our contract!”
Lawrence answered Le Roi’s joke with a wry smile. “Mr. Philon and the others will be there as well. We’ll need enough for…”
“Oh, I’ll buy. But in exchange, pitch in something nice from your wagon bed, eh?” Le Roi seemed to have given up trying to buy anything in Lenos.
Lawrence had no intention of turning it into a bargaining point, but he decided to let himself go along with Le Roi’s suggestion. “I’ll leave it to you, then.”
“You may safely do so. I’ll ask you to promise not to eat any eel until I return, though!” said Le Roi, then vanished into the crowds.
Even given the noisy, boisterous streets, it felt suddenly quieter. Call it “presence” or what one might, there was no denying that Le Roi was a loud man.
Lawrence and Holo, too, began to walk, and it was Holo who suddenly spoke up. “Well, now we’re rid of all our nuisances, eh?”
This came with no small amount of sarcasm, but Lawrence’s expression remained steadfastly calm, since he felt her words perfectly described the series of encounters they had just had.
“It’s an ironclad rule for all traveling merchants, you know—when going on a journey, travel as light as possible.”
“Hmph.” Holo sniffed and made an irritated face.
But when Lawrence took her hand, she did not shake it off. This was undoubtedly her lingering frustration with Lawrence’s earlier defiance.
Lawrence looked up at the church steeple. It was visible from anywhere in the town.
He told himself that despite it all, he would have God’s forgiveness.
It was just then that Holo pointed down an alleyway. “This way is shorter, is it not? And I’ve had my fill of crowds.”
Lawrence agreed.
Though one might well drink wine to warm up, too much would only make one feel worse.
The moment they left the throng for the alleyway, they entered a silence quite different from the one that had pervaded at the Delink Company, and Lawrence felt as though his body became palpably lighter.
Holo seemed to feel similarly, and she exhaled a small sigh.
The alleyway was narrow but well kept and somehow comforting.
While it was not the case that Lawrence had entirely lost interest in the sort of business that took place only on wide, crowded avenues, it was not only such things that he would pursue now. He would go to Yoitsu with Holo and put his surely foolish fears about Holo’s reunion with Myuri to rest, and there his journey with Holo would end.
After that, he would return to his old travels.
Holo had once jokingly said that she could laugh at a single memory for fifty years, and Lawrence felt that he himself would be doing much the same thing. That would be enough to keep him looking to whatever reunion they might possibly have.
That would be enough, surely. At the very least, he would have the satisfaction of knowing he had done everything he could.
It was just as Lawrence was musing on this that Holo spoke up.
“Hey,” she said casually.
“Hm?” Lawrence replied and saw that under her hood Holo had a somehow troubled expression on her face.
“There’s something I want to ask.”
What could Holo possibly need to know? “What is it?” asked Lawrence with honest curiosity.
“Mm. Why is it…that you’re so set on going to Yoitsu with me?” Her expression made it seem as though she had asked a question that must not be asked.
And once it was put to him, Lawrence himself realized that it had indeed been a forbidden question.
“N-no, come now, do not make such a face. ’Tis strange to me. You’re no fool, truly. You’ve brains enough to understand reason. So why was my notion to go alone so hateful to you? Jealousy of Myuri, aye, I could believe that once you’d heard of him, but that was a later addition, was it not? You still wanted to go with me, even before you’d heard about the mercenaries. And as for why, I simply cannot…”
Holo was so overwhelmed that she trailed off, her words becoming indistinct. Such a thing was a rare event.
It must have been his expression. Lawrence hastily put his hands to his face, trying to compose himself. “Is it so strange?”
He was not, of course, referring to his face.
Holo was well aware of that. But she hesitated for a moment, her face averted, before she nodded. “It seems so to me.”
“…”
Lawrence did not know how to explain his own feelings in that moment. “Despondency” would come close, perhaps.
He had been so sure that if he showed some fight, Holo would be pleased, even if she was irritated. But instead, this.
His disappointment and shock was enough to make him want to quite literally empty the contents of his stomach onto the curbside. What to do? He felt wobbly on his feet, like his spine was the only bone he had left, like the slightest breeze would knock him over.
“Truly, you said it yourself many times over, did you not? That if we were to separate, it was not a final parting? That it was not death?”
Lawrence was among those in the world who ought to be happy simply walking down a narrow street, holding the hand of a girl as beautiful as Holo.
But as he looked at Holo, his body leaning and unsteady, he simply could not accept it.
It was not a final parting. He knew that. As a merchant, going a year or two years without seeing a friend was a matter of course. It was hardly unendurable.
So he himself could not understand the reason why it was unendurable, in the case of Holo. Did he love her so much? Was it because he was a human and she a wolf?
Those were the only reasons he could think of, and in that moment, they seemed true enough to Lawrence.
But he could find nothing to answer her with. So it was Holo who opened her mouth and continued speaking.
“I do believe I’m the one with the right to anger here. You’re saying you don’t trust me, are you not?”
She was right. He loved her, and he thought she felt the same way about him. He wanted to believe that.
But as Elsa had so angrily pointed out, he could not just admit it. He did not know why. Was it because he was a merchant, who deep in his heart trusted nothing? Who doubted people and goods alike?
“I don’t much
want to say this, but I trust you’ll forgive me if it hurts to hear. But I…I’ve no intention of simply saying good-bye once we part. Must I explain absolutely everything to you?”
Lawrence looked at Holo with shock at her words.
“Wh-what?”
“What did you just say?”
“Must I explain everything?” She had said it as though she had been hiding some great secret, but Lawrence could not fathom what that could possibly be. Some crucial, bone-deep something.
Lawrence thought—he thought more seriously and deeply even than he had thought when trying to find a way to avoid going to Kieschen—and all the while, Holo’s hand remained in his.
Holo, too, thought, while looking up at Lawrence, her brow furrowed.
“Ah!” they said simultaneously, and it was surely no coincidence.
“Come now, surely you did not—”
“Er, no, I—!”
Holo, still shocked, looked at Lawrence, who clapped his hand over his mouth and averted his gaze. Could something so absurd be true?
Lawrence put the question to himself, but it was the only thing he could think of. Once the thought had come to him, he could imagine no other possibility.
Despite the cold, his cheeks burned. And Holo’s gaze upon him was still hotter.
“Heh-heh…so that’s how it is, eh?” He had not heard her use this appraising tone in a while, as though considering precisely how to grind him up.
Lawrence flinched away like a child, and despite feeling as though he had seen something terrifying, he could not help but look back at her.
In her handsome face, her red-tinged amber eyes glittered with strange light. “Aye, well, I suppose I must admit I’ve done likewise.” She chuckled. It sounded, somehow, like she was smacking her lips.
Lawrence closed his eyes in resignation.
The first time they had come to this town, when Holo had suggested they end their journey, Lawrence had taken her hand and said this:
“I love you.”
But what had Holo said in reply to that? Had she even said anything at all?
“Ho, ho, you truly are a fool,” said Holo, not even bothering to disguise her malicious tone.
Lawrence prepared himself to receive a killing blow, a blow worthy of any dragon slayer in any tale. And then—
“Hmph.” Holo sighed an exasperated sigh, and then into the breast of Lawrence, she snuggled herself. “Did you suppose I would tease you?”
“…Huh?” Lawrence opened one eye and looked at Holo.
“Fool.”
Lawrence had hunched himself over, so that when Holo stood on tiptoes, her eyes were even with his. Pathetically, he had no idea how much time they spent like that.
When he opened his eyes, he saw Holo right in front of him, a bashful smile on her face.
“Honestly, to not accept the truth unless you have it spoken to your face…if you were anything but a merchant I’d rip your throat out,” she complained, puffing her cheeks out in irritation right in front of Lawrence, who was still hunched over.
“And anyway, did you yourself not urge me to fight myself? You had the nerve to do that, and now look at you!”
“?” Lawrence looked at Holo, befuddled, at which Holo was momentarily shocked. She sucked her cheeks in.
“Do not tell me that all you meant by that was that I should fight over Col with that stone-headed girl? Was that all you meant by that?”
What else was there to mean? Lawrence looked into Holo’s redly glittering eyes, his mind spinning futilely.
“Ah…O-oh, I see…”
“Why, you fool…!” said Holo, discontented tears welling up in her eyes as she looked at him.
You don’t have to play the wisewolf.
Lawrence had meant the words from the bottom of his heart.
But if Holo had taken that statement to its utter extreme, it meant that any and all un-wisewolf-like behavior would be accepted. And what would be the perfect example of that? It hardly needed saying.
Even as Holo herself had found it pathetic, she had wanted to meet Lawrence again after they parted, and the thought had been tormenting her all this time.
No wonder he had found Holo’s frustration at losing Col, and her venting of that frustration upon him, so unusual and amusing. He had only been seeing the surface of those actions. The true reason for the displeasure behind her actions was the regret she felt at their rapidly approaching separation. She had been trying to rid herself of those feelings.
She had been taking out her frustration on him, but the frustration had been this: It’s your fault I’m feeling this pain.
“You truly think only of yourself, don’t you?”
Expect nothing. Dream of nothing. Cut your losses to nothing. It was the nature of the merchant. But perhaps it was nothing more than cowardice.
“Especially when it comes to me.”
Her cheeks puffed up angrily, and she grabbed his ear, forcing him down even lower. Now that it had come to this, Lawrence could not help but want to find a retort.
“Well, you’re no better,” he said.
“Mm?”
He had not planned to use it, but Lawrence now pulled the other envelope from his jacket. It was the letter from Hugues that had come from Kerube, along with the map.
“I wasn’t going to show you this,” he began and extricated the letter from the envelope, even as Holo continued to hold his ear.
It was a two-page letter, the handwriting neat and fine—hard to imagine coming from a man as large as Hugues. The letter captured Holo’s attention, and she seemed to forget that she still held Lawrence’s ear.
The first page began thus: Regarding the methods we not of Men have used to do business among them in their towns—
“I didn’t see any reason to irritate you. But that I’ve wished for this so terribly it’s foolish…”
…Surely you could have guessed that much? he wanted to finish, but he did not.
Still holding Lawrence’s ear and staring dumbly at the letter, a single crystalline tear tumbled from Holo’s right eye. Time seemed to stop, and her movement made no sound.
Holo looked back to Lawrence, her voice quivering from her happy tears. “Aye, ’tis what I hate about you.” She bared her fangs, the very picture of utter fearlessness. “But you fool, you stupid fool, I…I do love you so.”
In that moment, nothing mattered. Not Kieschen, not Yoitsu. Not Myuri or Col. With those words, every letter of scripture ever written had been rendered meaningless.
He had handed Holo a blank contract with his named already signed hugely on the bottom. And all he had wanted on it were the words that Holo had just given him.
“…Honestly. In all my centuries in the wheat fields, I saw many pairs of males and females, but I never once saw a male as foolish as—”
But Lawrence did not let her say any more. Still hunched over, his ear still in her hand, he pulled her into a tight embrace.
Holo seemed a bit surprised by this but rested her head on his shoulder, and he felt her sigh an exasperated sigh.
“I suppose we’ve to leave Col in the care of that bun head, then? And you’ve already prepared for our last travel as a pair, so I suppose the matter’s settled. Come, then.” She slid her hand around to his back and gave it a light pat before continuing. “Let’s get back to the shop and take our meal, eh?”
Holo tried to pull away from Lawrence, but he strengthened his embrace and did not let her go.
“Mm, come now,” she chuckled, but sounded a bit irritated as she pushed against Lawrence’s chest.
As she moved, he caught her freshly bathed scent, like a fall of spring rain.
Holo’s sweet, fragrant scent.
Lawrence put his lips to her neck.
“Come, you, that’s quite enough…”
Her words stripped him of his restraint. Here in the narrow alley, the tumult of the avenue did not reach them. Neither could the church steeple see them here. God cou
ld not see them here.
“Uh—come, you. H-hey. You’re not going to—”
If it came to strength, she was no match for him. Lawrence held her tighter, then pushed her against the wall. Then—
“Not…not here…!” Holo tried to push Lawrence back, with earnest strength this time. “You…foo—
“You fool,” she said, but in the end, the words did not reach Lawrence’s ears.
When they arrived at Philon’s shop, the interior was deserted, with happy voices emanating from the courtyard farther inside. Evidently the midday meal had already begun.
Lawrence and Holo went through the door to the courtyard, side by side. Elsa and Col were the first to notice them, and their eyes went instantly wide. Philon was next, followed by Le Roi, who spat his ale out in surprise.
But Holo was completely unconcerned, smiling as she pulled Lawrence along behind her.
Philon broke the brief but awkward silence. “Ah, looks like we’ll need more eel!” he said, heading back into the shop.
“Ah, I’ll help!” added Le Roi.
Col watched the two adults go and was just about to say something to Lawrence before Elsa pulled him bodily into the shop as well.
Left behind were only Lawrence and Holo.
“I wonder what got into them?” Holo said with purposeful obliviousness, a smile still on her face.
Lawrence, though, said nothing. It was not that he had nothing to say—his cheek still hurt too much for him to open his mouth.
The blow had briefly stricken sight and sound from his five senses and had additionally made a mess of his sense of balance.
“Oh ho, seems our eel is good and cooked, eh?”
The oil that had been drizzled over them sizzled away in the stove, a sign that the eel was nearly perfectly ready.
Holo found a knife and plate and adroitly made ready a bit of eel for Lawrence. On top of it all, she had the nerve to bring it to his mouth. “Come, open wide!”
Lawrence kept his mouth resolutely shut. It was not that he was embarrassed—he simply wanted her to know that his cheek still hurt too much to open his mouth.
“You’d refuse food from my hand?”