Spun Of Thread Or Love (3)

The next morning, when Noi woke, she found herself face-to-face in bed with a sulky Kardia.

Unusually, the curtains weren’t open.

She thought it might still be before dawn, but beyond the window she heard the sounds of capital life. For Noi, used to quiet mornings on the floating isle, it was a fresh sort of morning.

“…Good morning.”

Rubbing sleepy eyes, Noi greeted the scowling Kardia.

With dark circles under his eyes, Kardia fixed a damp, accusing stare on her.

“What was that yesterday?”

“Yesterday…?”

Kardia sat up, tugged her arm, and pulled Noi up as well.

“Right before sleep—you blurted something out.”

With a look of dire urgency, Kardia shook Noi by the shoulders.

Still foggy with sleep, Noi let herself be jostled as she dredged up the previous night.

“…?”

“You told me! Something! Didn’t you!?”

She didn’t know why he was so desperate, but it was rare for Kardia to be this insistent first thing in the morning, so Noi decided to play along.

(What was it… The night view was pretty… Ornis wasn’t there… Aidoni…)

Right—Aidoni. Noi’s eyes snapped open.

“I remember!”

“Do you?”

Kardia’s expression looked like relief—or despair—she couldn’t tell which.

But Noi didn’t notice, and beamed.

“I said I really, really love you!”

With a hundred-point morning smile, she declared it—and the strength drained from Kardia’s hands on her shoulders.

“…O-oh… that. That version…”

No—what did that even mean? He groaned to himself, covered his face with one big hand, then clawed through his long black hair.

Tilting her head at the faint flush on his cheeks, Noi nonetheless combed his hair into order with her fingers.

After a moment, as if recovering from something, Kardia lifted his face.

“…Let’s go out.”

It seemed he already had today’s plan in mind.

“Is that all right? Aidoni and Ornis are working so hard…”

Even if they didn’t barge in on the war room, shouldn’t they at least bring provisions? While Noi fussed, Kardia looked blank.

“Aidoni and Ornis can only prepare the dress. The rest—jewelry, shoes, cosmetics—we have to go around and get those ourselves.”

“I—I see.”

Noi nodded in a fluster. Indeed, she’d completely overlooked that part. Back when she moved in society, shoes, accessories, cosmetics—all of it overflowed in the Galenée family stores.

“That said, I’ve… never actually done someone’s makeup.”

Can I manage? he murmured, uncertain, touching Noi’s cheek.

(…He’s never done it?)

Kardia looked like the sort who could do everything—and be absurdly good at such things, too. And yet he was so hesitant with women he might not even know the names of cosmetic tools.

Come to think of it, he’d said he’d been without a sweetheart forever. Feeling suddenly pleased, Noi grinned wide.

“It’s fine! I can do it!”

“Eh? …You can?”

“—I feel like I can! There’ll be knowledgeable clerks at the shops—we can ask! I’ll remember properly!”

Noi always forgot she was supposed to have “amnesia.” She hurried to cover, and Kardia, with a “Right, right,” looked up at the ceiling.

Noi glanced up too, wondering if something was there, but there was nothing—he’d just looked up.

“All right. First stop, then—settled.”

Seeing Kardia’s bright smile, Noi tilted her head. “Oh?”

(Ah, so this is where…)

Noi stroked the nose of the huge cat nuzzling her—the Sphinx—and looked up at the great building.

This was the Esria Kingdom Bank—the only bank in the realm. Guarded by the divine-beast Sphinx at its gate, its defenses were said to yield to no robber, not even to an army.

That mysterious creature, the Sphinx, was at this very moment thrumming a long, long purr for Noi. The soldiers lined along the side didn’t so much as twitch—as one would expect—but she could feel their unease.

“…That’s rare. It’s awfully fond of you.”

“Haha, ha-ha… who knows why?”

Even after a hundred years, the Sphinx seemed to remember Noi. Perhaps because she had vanished and then appeared again after a century, it welcomed her like this.

Noi patted the Sphinx’s neck, but since it stayed glued to her, Kardia resigned himself to holding a card up near Noi’s face.

Noi glanced sideways at the card held beside her.

Regrettably, it wasn’t the bank card she had held a hundred years before.

A hundred years ago—when Noi had brought Kardia here—she had changed the account holder to Kardia.

She had taught Kardia the secret code phrases that even parents kept from their children so that, in time, he could inherit the card and withdraw from Noi’s fortune.

(Curse that Fengalow.)

And yet, it seemed Fengalow—who had been entrusted with the card—had never given it to Kardia.

To think the money she had left for him—enough for several ordinary lives—had likely been returned to the treasury made her seethe.

“Flowing clouds, vast plain of the heavens—”

The Sphinx opened its mouth.

Startled, Noi clapped both hands over her ears and hurried to step off the crimson tiles.

If she left those crimson tiles, then no matter what call-and-response Kardia and the Sphinx traded, the magic would block the sound.

But Kardia caught her arm.

Before the dumbfounded Noi, he spoke.

“From the cerulean firmament descends the fine, delicate sunlight.”

“Murmur of dreams, circling hopes—”

“A lantern of time, lighting through the cloth of night.”

“Time that passes, the unchanging waxing and waning—”

“Joy of dewdrops steaming from the great earth.”

Noi pressed her hands to her ears as hard as she could. When the code phrases ended, Kardia tilted his head down at her.

“What are you doing?”

“W-what do you think…! I was trying not to hear it!”

Maybe he’d feared she’d wander off and get lost if he let her go. Thanks to that, she’d fought hard not to hear the code—while he just blinked at her.

“You could’ve listened.”

This time, it was Noi’s turn to blink.

“I—I could have… listened?”

“You’re my bride, aren’t you?”

The Sphinx grudgingly shifted aside and opened the entrance. Kardia gave the lingering, nuzzling Sphinx a parting pat, then took Noi by the hand and led her down the stairs.

“B-bride or not…”

“There’s nothing I mind you hearing.”

(…Liar.)

There was nothing but things he’d mind her hearing.

Why he lived on the floating isle, why he had lived a hundred years, why his mana’s nature had changed—he hid every important thing.

Perhaps he would answer if she asked—but Noi didn’t want to be dodged by Kardia anymore.

(I’m nothing but a waystation to him.)

So she didn’t need to know. He had Kukuvaya, who could read him with a glance, and Ornis, who knew the circumstances.

Knowing she was the one who didn’t need to know—that was what hurt Noi.