Dancing In Moonlight

“Where’s Noi?”

Sitting down to breakfast, Kardia first asked the servants about Noi.

On waking, before anything else, he thought of her. That wasn’t because they had quarreled yesterday. Ever since they were reunited—Kardia had simply become that way.

(Still in bed, maybe.)

Her love of sleeping in was unchanged from a hundred years ago.

If he called to her she would rub her eyes, trying hard to wake, but when she was truly sleepy she would sit up and then flop face-first onto the pillow and drift off again. In those moments, Noi’s cheeks—squashed like a flattened roll—were irresistibly charming.

Whatever he looked at made him think of Noi. When he opened the curtains he looked to the bed for her; when he took his seat he thought of the foods she liked.

Kardia had expected the same reply as yesterday—“She is sleeping soundly”—but at the servant’s words he sprang from his chair with a clatter.

“When we entered the young ladies’ room to help them dress, it seems they had already gone out for a walk.”

(Already… gone?)

She wouldn’t leave without a farewell, but perhaps because Kardia had balked so hard, she had given up and gone.

Bolting from the dining hall without breakfast, Kardia opened every window and door in the house with magic, sweeping his gaze through it all.

It was early, so through the open doors he glimpsed servants tending hearths before their master awoke, kingdom soldiers snoring in bed, and others in the midst of changing clothes.

But Kardia ignored it all and kept moving.

If she wasn’t inside, then she must be outside.

(You should just be in bed, snoozing as usual!)

Sleeping Noi was adorable. For the past month or so, he had taken to gazing at her face for a while before opening the curtains. Yet that floating-isle routine already felt long ago.

Though she usually slept late, sometimes Noi slipped from bed in the early morning like this and threw Kardia’s heart into turmoil. The last time Noi went missing, he had feared she had run away—or worse, that she had been a mere illusion all along.

In only his trousers with a cloak thrown over his shoulders, Kardia walked the grass. He no longer needed the constricting clothes that hid his skin.

Hair streaming, anxiety mounting, he strode on—and spotted Noi on a hill.

(…Good—there she is.)

Realizing she hadn’t left the land, he let out the breath he’d been holding. His whole body felt close to going limp.

But when he noticed the man holding Noi’s hand, Kardia’s face went flat; he took the hill in long strides.

“—so—this—too—by all means—! I was hoping—! What do you say? Please, in my room—!”

“No, not now—”

Kardia stepped bodily between them—from behind Noi, into the space between her and the man—Lepto.

“!”

The man’s hands, which had been clasping one of Noi’s, sprang away. Hiding Noi behind his back, Kardia glared at the man before him.

“Did he do anything to you? Shall I blast him clear to the sea?”

“H—! Hey, Kardia! What are you saying!”

Noi smacked Kardia repeatedly, gesturing for him to back off. Kardia ignored her and kept a cool stare fixed on Lepto. The man’s face tightened as he bowed.

“G-good morning, Hyuetos Magic Count.”

“You still have business with this lady?”

“What are you threatening him for!”

Noi drummed her fists against Kardia’s back. Kardia glanced over his shoulder and pointed at the man, who wore only nightclothes with a cloak thrown on.

“Noi. You mustn’t meet alone with a shady man dressed indecently.”

“Indecent? Shady…? Don’t be rude. You met him yesterday. He’s a Royal Court Mage.”

Whether Court Mage or royal, it made no difference. A man who grabbed a girl’s hand in a lonely place at dawn and shouted at her had no grounds for complaint if he were blown away on sight—he was suspicious, plain and simple.

“And look at you—you’re dressed the same.”

At Noi’s exasperated remark, Kardia’s eyes widened.

“You’re putting me in the same category as him!?”

“Aaah, here we go—this is getting troublesome…”

“Sorry—again,” Noi said, waving to Lepto. Regretful, he nonetheless withdrew.

Kardia watched his retreating back while keeping Noi hidden behind him.

“Hey—don’t glare.”

“That man was making eyes at you.”

“No one would do that to a little girl like me.”

“You truly don’t know you’re lovely enough to pluck down the moon?”

When Kardia said it in earnest, Noi sighed.

“…Do you remember what you did to me yesterday?”

“I do. I proposed to you, didn’t I?”

“Yes. In a very halfhearted way.”

Cradling her head in her hands, Noi set off walking without looking at him. Kardia followed her small, short steps.

“Why was that man restraining you?”

“Don’t exaggerate. He did nothing dangerous—we were only talking.”

“At this hour, in a place like this, the two of you alone?”

Kardia’s voice came out cold as he wondered whether they had arranged to meet.

If Lepto hadn’t harmed her, that should have been enough.

And yet Kardia was angry at Noi for continuing to defend him.

(Why defend so fiercely a mage you only met yesterday?)

Kardia had placed a restriction on himself: he would take nothing from Noi. But what of this? Seeing her friendly with a man beyond his knowledge—seeing her trust another man—he interrogated her so hard she might well grow disgusted.

The blaze that had erupted in his chest the night before felt as if it had burned away his resolve and reason.

“You know…”

Noi shot him a damp, lingering look. Kardia still did not retract the question.

With a weary face, Noi stared ahead again.

“No… I was just thinking winter’s already here—and in my fluster, I bumped into him.”

“I dislike winter.”

“Do you? I don’t.”

What was momentous to Kardia was something Noi could dismiss with, “I don’t dislike it.” That stung, and he turned his face aside with a pout.

(…Winter is the season when you vanished from the world, isn’t it?)

Since then, spring had never come for Kardia. He took countless disciples, he aged, even when the sun floated in a sky where it seemed forever close—and still.