Kays Translations

Chapter 26: Discovery and Prospects

Once Licia’s illness had been identified, Weiss sent several knights back to Clausel to report that their return would be delayed.

Three days passed before Licia’s condition began to stabilize. Her fever and headache had not disappeared, and her body remained weak, but she had recovered enough to speak briefly and understand where she was.

“My lady, Ren is here.”

“…Let him in.”

Evening had already fallen.

Licia had asked to see Ren during a period when she felt relatively well. She sat upright in bed, waiting for him.

The female knight opened the door, and Ren’s eyes met Licia’s.

Her cheeks are still bright red.

Although Licia had propped herself up, her complexion remained poor and her whole appearance seemed fragile.

“As I explained earlier, Ren, the illness is not contagious,” the female knight said. “You need not be concerned.”

“I understand.”

“I will wait outside. Call me if either of you needs anything.”

The daughter of a baron—a saint, no less—and the son of one of her family’s knights were left alone together.

Ren had assumed nobles were extremely cautious about interactions between boys and girls. Being left in the room puzzled him, although considering their ages, imagining that anything improper might happen was probably the more improper thought.

Having settled that in his mind, he approached the bed.

“I’m sorry.”

Licia apologized the moment he came near.

She bowed her head. When she raised it again, her eyes glistened with tears. Regret, embarrassment, and guilt were written plainly across her face.

Her hoarse, unsteady voice sounded nothing like its usual self. When she tried to bow again, Ren hurried to stop her.

“You don’t need to apologize. Please, don’t bow.”

She continued anyway.

Feeling rather disrespectful, Ren placed both hands on her shoulders to keep her upright.

She’s burning up.

The heat of her body startled him. Once Licia stopped trying to bow, he quickly released her.

“I…”

“It’s all right. You haven’t caused my parents or me any trouble.”

Weiss had already told Ren how badly Licia felt about arriving of her own accord only to fall ill and take over his bed.

“You still look unwell, but I’m relieved you’ve improved a little.”

He sat on the round chair beside the bed, hoping to change the subject.

Did she call me here only to apologize?

If so, there was little else to discuss. Still, leaving immediately after arriving would seem rude. Ren did not intend to remain long enough to exhaust her, so he searched for a harmless topic.

“I’m sorry about Viscount Given too,” Licia said. “My family has caused you a great deal of trouble.”

She was apologizing again.

“I’m sure Weiss told you, but this journey was also meant to demonstrate our position to Viscount Given.”

No, he did not.

“We planned to visit more villages than usual and return to Clausel by a longer route. By having me—a saint and the lord’s daughter—tour the territory, we hoped to show everyone that Clausel remains united.”

For a Neutral Faction house with few close allies, that modest show of solidarity was about the most House Clausel could do. It was barely resistance at all.

“And yet I ruined even that. I hate being so useless.”

Licia hugged her knees. Her shoulders trembled, and a sob entered her weakened voice.

“I couldn’t even defeat you. At this rate, I’m only a troublesome little girl.”

“A spar is only a spar. In a serious battle, I might have been the one to lose.”

“You’re trying to comfort me. But all I’m doing is disgracing my late mother.”

Ren had not known that Licia’s mother was dead. She must have passed away after his birth.

If House Clausel had entered mourning, Roy would ordinarily have gone to pay his respects. Yet Ren could not remember his father ever leaving the village during his infancy.

Licia glanced at his thoughtful profile and seemed to read his mind.

“When Clausel went into mourning, my father told the knights responsible for distant villages—people like your father—that they did not need to make the journey.”

“How did you know what I was thinking?”

“I just did. You’re surprisingly easy to read.”

Ren apologized, embarrassed, but Licia told him not to worry.

“I’m told my mother jumped for joy when she learned I was a saint. On the day she died, she said I would grow into someone remarkable.”

Pride entered Licia’s expression as she spoke.

“I only know her face from portraits. I don’t remember her voice. But whenever I wore those clothes and took up a sword, it felt as though she were cheering me on.”

“The clothes you wore when we sparred?”

“Yes. My mother was born to a knightly family that served at the imperial castle. She wore clothes like those from the time she was young.”

The outfit was one of her mother’s keepsakes. Wearing it helped Licia summon her courage before a duel.

“But in the end, it was all rather hollow.”

Ren understood her a little better now.

Everyone called Licia a saint and expected great things from her. She wanted to meet those expectations, but she also carried a powerful longing to honor a mother she barely remembered. That was why facing Ren—someone stronger than herself—held such importance.

At the Clausel estate, some people criticized her for refusing to train with anyone except Weiss. In truth, that stubbornness came from ambition and impatience. She wanted an opponent who could truly test her.

“But you don’t need to worry anymore,” Licia said. “I won’t inconvenience House Ashton again.”

Ren said nothing.

“I already spoke to Weiss. I’m truly sorry for disrupting your lives so many times. I’ll apologize to your parents later as well.”

She really was noble.

Her thirst for strength was not driven only by pride. It came from love for her mother and responsibility toward everyone who believed in her.

That purity made her present expression difficult to watch.

“Then the next time you come, could you bring us a magic tool that produces fire?” Ren said. “Only if Clausel has one to spare, of course.”

Even as the words left his mouth, he wondered what he was saying. He simply did not want to see her grieve any longer.

“What?”

Licia raised her face. Her eyes were swollen and red from crying.

“I thought one would be useful in the earthen-floored entryway.”

“But…you said next time.”

“The next time you visit.”

“I’m saying I won’t come again because I don’t want to be a nuisance!”

Her confusion was understandable.

“Besides, you’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?”

Ren could not deny that.

“If you were avoiding me, then I must have been causing trouble.”

“I had many reasons for keeping my distance, but please consider something, my lady.”

“What?”

“Anyone would be bewildered if a stranger suddenly appeared and demanded a duel.”

It was not his only reason, but it was certainly true.

Licia had not expected to be admonished while ill. She stared at him, frozen.

Ren smiled gently.

“Don’t you agree?”

“…I do.”

“I’m glad. In the future, please send word beforehand whenever possible. And remember that I have no intention of leaving this village. As long as we meet here, I’ll do my best to accommodate you.”

He rose from the chair.

“I’ve talked too long. I don’t want your condition to worsen, so I should leave.”

“Wait. What you just said—did you truly mean it?”

“Yes. But we can discuss it properly after you recover.”

Ren headed for the door. Licia almost reached toward his back, then stopped herself.

Just before he left, she remembered something.

“I’m sorry to ask after all this, but could I borrow a pen and ink later? I need to write to my father.”

She had brought paper and envelopes with her.

Ren turned toward the old desk in the corner, but Licia told him she did not need them that evening. He simply explained where to find them.

“There’s a small box on top of the desk with my pens and ink. Use them whenever you need.”

“…Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Then I’ll take my leave.”

Ren gave her one final smile, bowed, and closed the door behind him.

* * * *

Licia continued staring at the door long after he had gone.

“Why am I still looking at it?”

She murmured the question and fell back onto the bed.

Somehow, while they had spoken, the burning fever and splitting pain in her head had eased slightly.

“Someone.”

She called to the personal guard waiting outside. When the knight entered, Licia asked her to summon Weiss.

He arrived soon afterward.

“What do you require, my lady?”

“I have a request. I want you to…”

She asked him to help subdue the monsters.

On the journey to the village, Licia’s party had witnessed the abnormal increase in Little Boars throughout the forest. If Weiss and the knights assisted House Ashton, they could reduce the outbreak considerably.

“My duty is to guard you. Are you certain?”

“You aren’t needed at my bedside every moment. I go outside without you even in Clausel, and I have other guards when I visit the town. This is no different.”

“That may be true, but…”

“There are plenty of knights here. Your absence for a short time will not endanger me. I’m only sleeping anyway, and I want you to repay House Ashton for everything they have done.”

Licia wanted to contribute something herself. Never had she resented her illness and helplessness as much as she did then.

Weiss recognized the resolve behind her request and saw how much she had grown.

“I will do everything in my power to repay House Ashton’s kindness.”

He accepted the request and left Ren’s room looking satisfied.

Silence returned.

Unable to sleep and troubled by a faint loneliness, Licia sat up again.

“I might as well borrow the pen now.”

Rest would have been wiser, but she was not sleepy. Writing to her father might keep her from brooding.

She took stationery from her bag and rose unsteadily. Her legs were weak, though not quite as weak as she had expected.

At Ren’s desk, she searched for the small box he had mentioned.

There were two.

One sat plainly on top of the desk. The other rested on the attached shelf.

“Which one did he mean?”

Illness had dulled her judgment. Under ordinary circumstances, she would have realized that the box in plain sight on the desk was the obvious choice. Instead, half-dazed, she reached for the one on the shelf.

Perhaps it caught her attention because of its unusual appearance. Melted paint covered its surface.

When she lifted it, the dried coating cracked with a sharp snap. A winter in storage and repeated changes in temperature had made it brittle.

The lid opened.

Inside, Licia found something she recognized.

“Is this…?”

There could be no mistake. It was hers—the item that had mysteriously vanished after her first visit to Ren’s village.

“So that’s where it was.”

A storm of emotions passed through her.

Anger appeared, but strangely, only for an instant. Far stronger was the indescribable embarrassment, followed by uncertainty over what she should do with what she had found.

Ren and his family had already endured enough trouble because of her. Even so, as a girl and a noble lady, she could not simply dismiss the matter as one insignificant piece of underwear.

She needed to reprimand Ren.

That did not mean she would threaten to drag him to Clausel, especially after what she had just promised.

Still, improper behavior had to be corrected.

It is not as though I expect him to come to Clausel of his own accord to make amends.

Licia silently mocked the calculating thought that had surfaced in a corner of her mind.

Bad behavior was bad behavior. She would have to tell him so, no matter how mortifying the conversation might be.

“When I feel a little better, the two of us are going to have a serious talk.”

She removed only her own belonging from the box, carried it to her bag, and hid it inside.

Any desire to write her letter had disappeared.

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