My Bride (7)

“I brought it, my dandelion.”

Noi—Kardia’s so-called dandelion—had spread a cloth atop a low hill and waited for him.

Under a sky carpeted with stars as far as the eye could see, Noi accepted the basket he had brought.

Noi’s proposal—that was to eat outside on days the bride wished.

However, there was one more condition.

“Honestly. I thought no one alive would ever try to make me an accomplice again.”

“Heh heh heh, it’s fine. Just one bottle.”

Placing the basket on the cloth, Noi also accepted the wine Kardia held in his other hand.

The condition Noi had stated—that was drinking alcohol.

In the Esria Kingdom, adulthood was eighteen, and drinking was permitted from that age. Letting Noi drink when she believed she was fifteen was hardly something Kardia, who also stood as a teacher raising disciples, could welcome.

“You brought something awfully weak.”

“I’d appreciate it if you’d settle for that.”

“Come on. There are days when you can’t get through it without a drink.”

At Noi’s oddly grown-up remark, Kardia gave a thin smile.

Noi had been a mysterious child since the day they met.

Her way of speaking and her values felt quite mature. His disciple Ornis was rather mature as well, so he hadn’t thought much of it, but in conversation he sometimes felt she spoke with an adult’s ethics.

So when such a Noi voiced a selfish wish she would never say normally, Kardia—wanting forgiveness for his own sins as well—ended up fetching liquor from his private store.

“Were you able to keep it from Ornis?”

“If we get found out, I’m in for a lecture…”

If it became known he had given Noi alcohol, Ornis would be disappointed in Kardia in an instant.

Raised among many children, Ornis possessed the proper mindset of an elder.

Whether she knew how risky a bridge they were crossing or not, Noi poured wine into a glass from the basket.

“Just a little.”

“What a stingy fiancée.”

By the magical light Kardia had conjured, Noi wrinkled her nose.

“Here, a toast.”

The wineglass that he had assumed she’d poured for herself—Noi held it out to Kardia.

Kardia liked exchanges like this with Noi.

Each word jumbled him up, yet he wanted to hear every word she uttered; if she turned cold, it felt like the end of the world, and if she smiled at him like a co-conspirator like this, his heart leapt so much he could cry.

The wind tugged at her white hair and her small hand held it down. Her cheeks were flushed even before a sip of wine, and she let out a delighted little squeal.

(She’s so cute.)

Just looking wasn’t enough; he wanted to reach out.

Instead of reaching out, Kardia offered his glass. Noi, seeing it, cheerily clinked hers against it.

—clink

Glass chimed lightly against glass.

Noi took a bold gulp of wine.

“Noi, go slowly—”

“Kardia! Do you see it?”

Still holding the glass, Noi flung out her free hand and called out loudly while gazing at the sky around them.

“Isn’t it beautiful! Right now, I feel like I can be grateful for each and every moment of this world.”

It was far too soon for the alcohol to hit. Yet Kardia felt he understood what Noi meant.

Her face—her eyes—shone as brightly as the starry sky—no, even brighter.

(Just a little longer, only a little.)

Those words piled up inside Kardia as he accepted the glass back.

—They could never, ever allow it to be exposed that Noi Galenée, the First-Sun mage who saved the world, had in fact failed to seal the Demon King. Kardia permitted no one to speak of the Demon King that nested within him.

More than the world—more than anything—he cherished her.

He would not let anyone stain the name of Noi Galenée.

For that very reason, killing the Demon King—his master’s murderer—was Kardia’s long-held vow. Unseen by anyone, quietly.

Nothing mattered more than that, and nothing else did he desire more.

(And yet…)

Before he could burn the view before him into his heart, Kardia lowered his face.

(Ah…)

And he allowed himself to mutter only in his heart:

(—…don’t want this.)

When she woke in the morning, the curtains were open.

That was the fixed, unchanging routine of this house.

Noi stretched and climbed down from the bed for one. The sheets bore the creases of two people, gentle ripples spread across them.

She touched her hand to her forehead.

Every night, the lips of her beloved descended there.

From the first floor, where breakfast preparations were underway, a good smell spread.

Passing through the living room, Noi stepped outside. Kardia, whom she had assumed was in the living room, was not there.

Her shoes grew wet with the morning’s dew. From the mist-shrouded ground drifted the scent of earth. Unable to bear the cold prickling her skin, Noi gave a full-body shiver.

Rubbing her arms as she walked, she soon found Kardia.

—Kardia often gazed down upon the surface.

That figure was like the “god” she had read about in picture books as a child. From high above the clouds, god saw the whole earth. Such a line fit Kardia, radiant in the morning light, perfectly.

Without a word, Noi stood beside him. When Kardia noticed her, he lifted her up without surprise.

“Good morning.”

They matched eye level and exchanged morning greetings. Noi answered, “Good morning.”

“What were you looking at?”

“The clouds.”

“The clouds? Ah, there are a lot today.”

“Yeah. I thought they were a little unusual.”

Kardia stared down at the clouds.

To Noi, aside from the sheer quantity, she couldn’t tell what differed from usual.

“The clouds around here are controlled by magic, so they’re not supposed to build up this much.”

“Well, maybe it’s just one of those days.”

Kardia gave a light smile, but Noi gaped.

“…You control the clouds?”

“Long ago, the rains were terrible here. Left as it was, it was hard to live.”

At Kardia’s outrageous statement, Noi was left speechless.

She had never even heard of such magic.

To manipulate weather or nature—surely no one had even conceived of it.

It was often said that without the idea, magic might as well not exist—but even if conceived, whether it could be realized was another matter.

You could not scoop up the sea with your two hands, nor could you kick a mountain aside with your two feet. Even for mages who commanded mana, magic that large was, as expected, far beyond the pale.

Too astonished for words, Noi silently looked down at the surface. Through gaps in the thick clouds, she could see mountains, villages, and rivers. From the smoke rising from houses drifted the signs of breakfast being made.

“…You really cherish your domain.”

“As if. It’s more than I can handle.”

Despite his words, Kardia looked down at the villages with gentle eyes.

“An old bastard foisted this land on me back in the day. I kept putting off running away—telling myself I always could—and before I knew it, eighty years had passed.”

Noi now knew where Kardia’s true feelings lay behind that bright laugh.

“Look, over there is the square we visited before.”

“You’re right. From above, it was quite a large lake.”

“See how the road branches from the square? That way there’s a village, and this way leads to the highway toward the royal capital.”

“Where’s the lord’s manor?”

“There. On top of the hill, see? Flooding used to be frequent. We built on high ground so it could serve as a temporary evacuation spot for residents.”

“…That mountain is big.”

“Yeah. For about the past ten years, Hydricals have been coming there.”

“They’re the magical creatures that purify water, right? Why drive them away?”

“They summon water with their dance. Too many is bad. Still, their antlers fetch a high price, so the village men were pleased.”

Whenever she steered the topic to the villages, Kardia answered fluidly—even from above the clouds.

His eyes held the light of a lord.

(…Since you’ve protected this land so much, I will protect it too.)

Noi narrowed her eyes softly and gazed at Kardia. Noticing her gaze, Kardia looked back with eyes just as gentle.

Those eyes were so kind, so sweet, that Noi mimed rubbing her cheek against Kardia’s head to hide her tears.

(Even if someday I were reborn—)

She breathed in Kardia’s scent.

Somehow, it had become the smell she loved so much.

(I will never fall in love again.)