Chapter 89

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Chapter 89

I had wanted her to laugh. I had wanted her to be happy. Yet here she was, tears streaming down her face, simply because he seemed to know of the past she had erased. Yurien de Harden Kirie pressed his trembling lips together and bent forward, bringing his gaze level with hers.

"Echinacea Loaz, look at me. If you wish to conceal it, I shall help you hide it. If you desire it, I will ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍‍‌‌‌‍‌‍​‌‌‍⁠​‌‍‍‌‌⁠​‍‌‌​⁠‌‍​⁠‌‍​‌‌‍⁠‍‌⁠​⁠⁠‍​‍​⁠‍‍endeavor to forget as well. So please, look at me."

When he spoke of "it," he meant the entirety of her past, though she would likely understand it as only the fact of being the "Master." It had to be that way. Yurien waited anxiously for her to release his hand and meet his eyes. Her exposed violet irises were brimming with tears. The corners of her eyes were flushed, and her parted lips trembled faintly.

Please. Feeling his chest constrict, he continued.

"I knew you were the Master, which is why I wished to spar with you. I promised to answer your questions after we sparred—I shall answer them now."

If he confessed everything here, she would not be able to bear it. So Yurien crafted a lie that she could accept.

"I told you I saw you at a naming ceremony long ago and remembered you. At that time, I recognized the talent within you. That is why I took a personal interest, and the moment you became a cadet, I accepted you as my squire."

"Talent... you recognized it? How?"

Could that spark he had witnessed truly be called talent? It was merely a possibility. He was already weaving lies, yet he could not bring himself to speak entirely in falsehood. He wove truth and deception together into something she could comprehend.

After hearing his entire explanation, Echinacea Loaz regarded him with confusion. Her fear had subsided, replaced now by bewilderment. Noticing this shift, Yurien felt inwardly relieved. It seemed she had accepted his words, at least.

A single tear that had gathered in her eyes finally spilled down her cheek. He followed that single drop with his gaze. He recalled the first tears he had ever seen from her—a single drop of miracle born from a body stained by the Demonic Sword. It had been evidence of invisible suffering.

'Are these tears now the same? Outwardly calmed, yet inwardly still....'

As he stood there lost in such thoughts, she asked him.

"If you already knew, why were you so surprised just now?"

Why was I surprised? Because you called my name, and that tremor made me acutely aware that I am utterly mad for you....

He could not answer in such a way.

Suddenly, the sensation of her shoulders in his grasp became vividly real—the delicate frame that fit within a single hand, the slender collarbone he could feel at his fingertips, and through the cascade of her hair, her flushed face trembling with sobs.

Yurien startled and withdrew his hand, stepping back from her. Even if her fear had truly faded, to feel desire at such a moment—was he a beast? No, he was worse than any animal. Yet Echinacea Loaz gazed up at him with such innocent eyes.

'I must... answer....'

"You...."

He opened his mouth reflexively but could not continue. His mind went white, then flushed red, then spun dizzily. She was waiting for his answer. He had already told so many lies. He did not wish to lie about his feelings as well. The words spilled from him unbidden.

"It is the first time I have heard you call my name."

"...What?"

After stammering through his words, his ears burned ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍‍‌‌‌‍‌‍​‌‌‍⁠​‌‍‍‌‌⁠​‍‌‌​⁠‌‍​⁠‌‍​‌‌‍⁠‍‌⁠​⁠⁠‍​‍​⁠‍‍hot. He could not face Echinacea Loaz and cast his gaze downward. She remained silent for a moment before asking softly.

"You said earlier that if I wished to hide the fact that I am the Master, you would help me conceal it. Do you know why I wish to hide it?"

"...If you tell me."

I know, but until you tell me, I shall pretend not to know. Such was his answer. Interpreting his deliberately ambiguous response in her own way, her expression became peculiar. Then, abruptly, she stepped closer to him.

Yurien was startled nearly to fainting, though his shock manifested only as a slight flinch. She drew near and gazed up at him intently. His heart began to thunder loudly. He worried she might hear its ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍‍‌‌‌‍‌‍​‌‌‍⁠​‌‍‍‌‌⁠​‍‌‌​⁠‌‍​⁠‌‍​‌‌‍⁠‍‌⁠​⁠⁠‍​‍​⁠‍‍frantic beating.

"Then, why would you promise to hide something when you do not even know why I wish to hide it?"

'I know now and act accordingly, but even if I did not know, I would have done the same without question. I trust your decisions and your choices.'

"Moreover, it sounds as though you are saying you will not even ask the reason until I tell you. Is my understanding correct?"

'How could I dare expose your wounds when you do not wish it?'

"...Why do you show me such consideration?"

'You are someone who deserves respect from anyone. Moreover, I...'

love you.

All answers he could not speak aloud. Yurien felt his face burning. He could imagine how unsightly his blush must appear. This was far too obvious. What should he do?

He had no skill in such matters. He could only stand helpless, avoiding her gaze. The Holy Sword released something like a stifled moan, but Yurien had no mind to heed it.

"Lord... could it be."

And Echinacea Loaz, who had been silent, dropped a bombshell.

"Do you like me?"

My mind went blank. I had no awareness of what expression I wore or how I was behaving.

"I...."

Do I like you? Of course I do. So much that mere affection seems insufficient. Enough to transform me. Before you, my words stumble and falter, my emotions run wild at your slightest word and expression, desires I never knew awakened, and something within me—whether monster or beast, I cannot say—was born.

Fearing I would lose control and pour out everything, I covered my mouth. I could not deny it. But if I affirmed it here, what would happen? My reason had numbed, leaving me unable to predict anything.

Strangely, I felt joy that she had noticed my feelings, yet I worried how I appeared in her eyes. I could not deny it, so I had to answer, but I did not know what to say. I felt like a fool.

"L-Lord, I asked an impertinent question...."

"I do like you."

Lost in confusion, I reflexively cut off Echinacea Loaz's words. Once I began, the rest flowed naturally.

"No, rather than merely liking you, I revere you."

Surprisingly, once I opened my mouth, my heart became language with ease. Of course, such words were far too inadequate, yet I had revealed my heart to her. Now I could only wait for her response. I watched her, my mind empty of all thought.

Echinacea Loaz stood with her mouth agape, her eyes blinking slowly as her cheeks flushed. Yet that warmth, briefly exposed, froze rapidly. She drew her breath in shallow gasps, her chest contracting. Then, pale and sickly, she stepped backward.

It was a clear rejection. The moment I recognized it, my vision swam. I turned away from her, unwilling to show my crumbling expression. Fearing my voice would crack, I drew a breath and swallowed hard past the tightness in my throat. Before she could voice her refusal, I spoke first.

"You need not answer, Echinacea Loaz. It is simply how my heart is."

This was surely the inevitable outcome, yet I had been far too hopeful. Simply because she had grown accustomed to me, wielded the sword I gave her, smiled at me, and called my name—I had unconsciously harbored some expectation.

Though she did not hate me, the reality remained unchanged: I was an uncomfortable presence that reminded her of the past. How many times had Echinacea Loaz recalled those erased years before me and been seized by terror? To her, the thought of such a person harboring affection could only seem unsettling.

'Will she come to avoid me again? Perhaps she will keep her distance.'

I thought we had only just grown closer. I should not have spoken. Regret came too late. Yet if the same moment came again, I doubt I could deny my feelings. They were so full, so overflowing, that I could not contain them.

I turned my steps toward the remains of the collapsed black giant. Still, she had not given a definitive rejection, so I need not abandon hope. I had resolved to make the effort regardless.

At least Echinacea Loaz seemed to like my face. These past days, she had grown accustomed to me. So the situation was not entirely hopeless. I need not give up. I did not want to give up. I could not give up.

'So what should I do now?'

I did not even dare hope that she would come to love me. Though I desperately wished it, it seemed impossible. If she would only accept me, that would be enough. How could I make her accept me? Countless assumptions and plans flowed through my mind unbidden.

I was scarcely aware of what I was thinking. While my body moved properly, avoiding the flames, my mind reeled and staggered.

Because of this, I did not notice the presence approaching me. Had there been malice, I might have sensed it, but there was none. So I was truly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍‍‌‌‌‍‌‍​‌‌‍⁠​‌‍‍‌‌⁠​‍‌‌​⁠‌‍​⁠‌‍​‌‌‍⁠‍‌⁠​⁠⁠‍​‍​⁠‍‍startled when my arm was seized.

"Your arm is injured. You haven't even stopped the bleeding."

Echinacea Loaz spoke thus and tore the hem of her petticoat to wrap around my forearm. I stared down at her, my mind reeling. With my thoughts emptied, I could see things with perfect clarity: her trembling voice, her trembling hands, her eyes wet as though she wished to weep. Worry seeping through without concealment, and sorrow she had failed to hide.

Why?

When I was injured, she called out my name in alarm, and in her panic, she even defeated the black giant that attacked me. She came into the Nodule despite risking exposure—why?

"Shay... and the Owner of Elgiosa and the villagers—I left them elsewhere. I will bring them here."

Even after Echinacea Loaz departed, I did not lower my arm. I gazed at the knot she had tied and recalled again that brief warmth that had flickered across her face immediately after my confession.

"...Is there a possibility?"

I had thought even acceptance would be difficult. But if, just if, there existed the possibility that she might not only accept me but also give her heart to me—something swelled within my chest, surging beyond my control.

When I had asked for her companionship on this long mission, I had sought to determine whether there was a possibility she might choose me. The answer had come. Whether possibility existed or not, I had already lost myself, and I knew that to give up, I would have to abandon the Holy Sword and forget everything.

Yet just now, I saw possibility in her.

'Then by any means necessary.'

I made my decision.

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