Chapter 21
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Chapter 21
"Baraha."
"At your service, Commander."
"Baron Tillius is looking for you. Go see him."
"Understood. Echinacea, finish brushing him down and come back. We can handle the rest later. Oh, Commander, were you here to use Sylphid?"
Ever since Baraha began teaching Echinacea, he had started calling her by her nickname at her request. As he spoke to Echinacea, he lifted his head to ask Yurien if he needed a horse—there was no way he'd come all the way to the stable just to relay a message to a squire.
"Yes. Were you conducting squire preliminary training?"
Yurien answered calmly, his gaze lingering on the two of them standing close together. Baraha instinctively stepped back. Then he felt bewildered by his own action. Why did I retreat?
"Yes, sir. We were only brushing, so it's no trouble to stop. Echinacea, finish up and head back."
"Yes, senior."
Echinacea answered reflexively. From the moment Yurien appeared without warning, her mind had been half-absent. Just as Baraha was about to say something more, noticing her strange demeanor, Yurien spoke.
"Baraha. Didn't I tell you to go see Baron Tillius?"
"Ah... Yes, thank you."
Baraha bowed his head in response and stepped out of the stable. Echinacea hurried to put away the brush and hoof pick in the bucket, eager to escape this place.
Her haste made her movements clumsy. The brush struck the rim of the bucket and rolled out. Yurien picked it up. Echinacea stared blankly at the brush he offered. His blue eyes gazed at her quietly, penetrating. He asked softly.
"Am I making you uncomfortable?"
"Pardon?"
"If the sparring match I proposed was burdensome... you can forget about it."
She felt like a fool. She had thought so hard about his actions and what he might be thinking, yet when she suddenly found herself standing before him, nothing came to mind. Only when she heard the word "sparring" did she finally recall all her deductions about him. Echinacea barely managed to move her hand and accept the brush.
"No, Commander."
"No? Then what?"
"It's not that the sparring is burdensome—it's just that it felt undeserved. I'll let you know once I'm mentally prepared. And... thank you for the cloak before. I'll return it soon."
Echinacea spoke rapidly, tossing the brush into the bucket. Yurien's words caught her as she turned to flee.
"So you are uncomfortable, then."
"..."
She didn't want to lie to him. So she kept silent. Echinacea was indeed uncomfortable around him. Whenever she stood before him, all her attention converged on him, and countless speculations flooded her mind.
Does he hate me? Does he remember? Is he observing me right now? Is he testing whether I'm the demon of the Demonic Sword?
And now there was the possibility that the Demonic Sword's origin might be his family—the Royal House. Nothing but questions. Tension. Yet despite it all, there was the relief she felt whenever she saw him alive. Joy. Guilt. And the fragments of shattered emotions that still remained.
She felt his gaze on her back as she turned. It wasn't a harsh gaze. Soon came the sound of a saddle being fastened and reins being pulled. Yurien was bringing out Sylphid.
"You will soon become my squire, so I would prefer it if you didn't find me uncomfortable."
He spoke lightly, as if trying not to burden her, while attending to other tasks. Echinacea took a deep breath and turned around. He was approaching with Sylphid's reins in hand. The white horse with its golden sheen suited him perfectly with his silver hair.
"May I... ask you one thing, Commander?"
Yurien didn't answer. Instead, his blue eyes turned toward her. Echinacea swallowed hard and rolled the words around in her mouth several times. She had decided that the next time they met, she would definitely ask this. But it was an answer she couldn't find anywhere in her memory. She barely managed to voice the question.
"At last year's birthday celebration, you said you saw me. But I've never spoken with you before—how did you know me? Did I... do something rude?"
Yurien, who had approached beside her, stopped walking. Sylphid tossed her head with a snort. His gaze always felt as though it pierced straight through to her soul. Echinacea resisted the urge to clench her right palm. He answered quietly.
"Nothing of the sort happened. You simply caught my eye."
"Caught your eye? Was it because of my hair?"
Pink hair was rarer than silver hair. It was inherited from her maternal side, and since it was uncommon even there, quite a few people remembered her as the pink-haired young lady. The Loaz Count Family, her own house, was so unremarkable that it made less of an impression than her hair color. If that were the case, it made sense.
But Yurien shook his head.
"No... it was personal interest."
It was an answer I hadn't anticipated at all. I found myself asking back, bewildered.
"Personal interest? What do you mean by that...?"
Yurien de Harden Kirie laughed. His eyes crinkled slightly when he smiled—a beautiful sight that drew my gaze without my consent. While I was captivated by that laughter, he stepped closer. I stiffened instinctively as his hand approached.
He reached toward my hair, which cascaded below my shoulders. His fingers sank about an inch deep between the long, undulating strands of pink. His hand moved as though brushing my hair back, then withdrew, clutching a piece of straw. Yurien de Harden Kirie brushed the straw from my hair onto the ground as he spoke.
"I'll answer that question after our duel as well."
"...You said earlier that if the duel request was burdensome, I didn't have to accept it."
I spoke with an edge to my voice without meaning to. Yurien de Harden Kirie laughed aloud this time. He covered his mouth with his hand and let out a short, quiet laugh. I lost myself in that laughter again.
What kind of man laughs so beautifully? He looks so aloof, yet why does he smile so effortlessly?
"If you truly wish to decline, I cannot force you. But it means I desire a duel with you that desperately."
Yurien de Harden Kirie spoke in a quiet voice, then moved away as though refusing further questions. He left the Stable with Silphid. I couldn't stop him. My head throbbed. I felt as though I'd weathered a storm in the brief span between tension, enchantment, and confusion.
[That bastard seems to remember something, doesn't he? Why is he so fixated on this duel? Could it be he's trying to confirm your identity, just like you said?]
The male Demonic Sword spoke to me alone. I rubbed my flushed cheeks with the back of my hand, irritated, and replied.
"Don't call Yurien de Harden Kirie a bastard, Demonic Sword."
[I'll call him what I want. Ugh, this is frustrating! Master, couldn't you just let me and Baraha Islaf clash once? Then I could talk to him and confirm whether he's awake.]
"Are you insane? You think I'm going to draw you?"
[Hey, Master, why don't we just ask him directly? Ask him if he remembers dying to me, yeah? If he doesn't understand what you're saying, just laugh it off as a joke, and if he does remember, we can have a real fight!]
"Just stop talking. You're giving me a headache."
I glared irritably at my right palm. As I walked out of the Stable, the Demonic Sword grumbled.
[So we're just going to keep guessing like this indefinitely?]
"The monster subjugation is coming soon. I'll be able to confirm everything by watching how Baraha Islaf acts then. Right now... I really don't know. If it weren't for that banquet, it would be easier to understand. What exactly did he see in me at the banquet?"
[Personal interest, he said. What does that even mean? When do humans usually use expressions like that?]
"That...."
I started to answer but stopped myself. When do people use that expression? Something came to mind in that instant. But I absolutely could not imagine Yurien de Harden Kirie harboring such tender feelings toward me. More precisely, I must not imagine it.
I recalled his final moment. The image of him, stained with blood, unable even to close his eyes, flashed through my mind, and something that had been softening inside me shattered in an instant. I wore a bitter smile.
[Why did you stop talking?]
"Someone's coming."
It wasn't an excuse. There was indeed someone approaching me as I headed toward the Dormitory.
"Your dress is lovely today too, Cadet Echinacea Loaz! That lime green suits you so well!"
The dark-skinned woman with a goofy grin was about a hand's span shorter than me. With her black hair braided into a single long plait and the petite frame characteristic of western nomadic peoples, she had an almost childlike appearance. Yet she was twenty-two years old, my senior, a second-year student, and the club president of an organization called Wisdom.
She was also one of the few cadets who paid no mind to the rumors about Echinacea Loaz. She even complimented my dress. In some ways, she was an even more unusual cadet than Baraha Islaf.
"Hello, Senior Fatima."
I gave a perfunctory greeting and walked past her. Fatima trotted after me. Her long braided hair swung with each bouncing step, like a puppy's tail. She looked up at me with eyes as dark and shiny as mulberries.
"Cadet Echinacea Loaz, since I complimented you, come join our club."
"Senior, I already told you I'm not joining anywhere."
"But our club isn't just anywhere. It's a good place. And the name is cool too—Wisdom! Don't you feel the refined air of an intellectual who will lead Agenka the moment you hear it?"
I sighed.
"Isn't it odd to talk about intellectuals in a Military Academy club?"
"Forget that rustic idea that knights only need to use their bodies! Let's become wise knights! So come join Wisdom!"
"I really won't join a club, Senior. Don't you think it's time to give up?"
"No way, I'm not giving up! Not until you join Wisdom!"
"Why are you so determined to recruit me? No other club goes to such lengths."
"They're fools. Excellent—their foolishness means I, being wise, can monopolize such exceptional talent all to myself!"
"You consider me exceptional talent?"
"Of course. Are you not?"
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