The Villainess.

The villainess.

While Aspara frowned and concentrated on the play, Gus’s fingers crept, very slowly, a little at a time, across the chair toward her.

Well — fairy tale or not, this is awfully contrived. Betting your whole life on someone you’ve never exchanged a word with.

The castle lord’s fingertips drew close enough that she could faintly feel his warmth.

So that woman’s the villainess. The one who deceives the prince and steals his love, as the story goes. Why are they fighting over such a fool of a man.

The children’s play ran only about thirty-odd minutes. Soon the climax approached, and the children’s laughter rose higher.

The castle lord’s fingers, creeping nearer at a snail’s pace, at last overlapped with his wife’s little finger.

“Oh my.”

Only then did Aspara look down at her two hands, all but interlaced already.

“Do excuse me.”

Taking the delicate signal that the seat was too narrow, Aspara drew her arm back, stood, and surrendered her half of the chair entirely.

On her feet, she could see for herself that the bench really was too small for Gus to sit on.

Aspara stood behind the bench, beside Volmo, and watched the play through to its conclusion. It ended with the protagonist, having failed in love, trying to kill the prince so she could return to being a mermaid, then abandoning the attempt and dissolving into sea foam. So that was how it went.

“…Huh?”

The story’s ending was very different from what he remembered. Without hesitation, the protagonist killed the prince, and while she was at it killed the villainess as well, then flung her knife away and went back to the sea.

The puppeteer’s screaming performance during each of the death scenes was unnecessarily realistic.

For a moment Aspara thought the first act must have just ended, but the fathers of the children were already handing over coins and dispersing.

“Is that the end of it?”

Bewildered by the cruel ending, so unlike what she had expected, the southern lady turned to Gus, eyes wide. Unable to focus on a children’s puppet show either, the castle lord had one hand over his face and his head bowed. He must have dozed off.

“Here — Volli — is that the ending?”

“This sort of children’s literature is just how it is here.”

He spoke with an air of mocking the culture of the north. Aspara felt faintly offended by the reply, though she could not have said why it should trouble her.

“I see.”

“They don’t really have a concept of children’s literature, as it were.”

“But you can’t have been in the north until the business with your father. How is it you know so much about children’s literature here?”

“The household that once took me in was very gracious about having me learn their culture alongside them. The head of the house was an exceptionally kind person.”

“Mm-hm.”

The information Volmo had tossed off without a second thought sparked Aspara’s interest.

The place he had lived in hiding until the pig-of-a-baron suddenly met with his “accidental death.” Which meant, she suspected, this might well be the household of this man’s concealed birth-mother.

“Where you originally lived — was that in the central kingdom?”

Oblivious to the fact that Aspara was rummaging about beneath his carpet, Volmo answered.

“Yes.”

Like a child speaking of something to boast of, he puffed out his chest and preened for no good reason.

“Do you happen to know of a Lady Sebinya Gobir?”

“So you had a connection with her.”

“You know of her?”

“Who can say.”

Aspara kept her eyes fixed on the empty stage, hiding her shaken feelings.

In her head, she was cautiously going back over the chain of events that had brought this unfamiliar man to her side, wondering if it had not all been just a little too convenient.

“What sort of connection?”

“Nothing one could really call a connection. She simply took pity on my circumstances and took me in as one of her servants. She is such a kind-hearted person.”

Aspara smiled without answering. Unconsciously, she cast a quick glance at the pocket where the silk-furred rat would be sleeping.

“That… at our first meeting, this was what happened.”

Volmo hesitated a moment, then went on. It wasn’t the hesitation of someone unsure whether he ought to speak; it was the pleasant little pause that comes just before bringing out a story one is itching to tell.

“I was raised as a neglected child in the main house. Being a bastard, and with my blood what it is, I lived mostly in hiding.”

Aspara listened in silence.

“When guests came to the house, I had to hide away in my room… that day was no different. There was a small gathering, and I was holed up in my room. But somehow I was bewitched — the smell of the food outside was so tempting that I slipped out in secret. I snuck a few pieces of confectionery from the reception hall and hid under the dining table, and who should already be hiding there but the attendant of one of the guests. I was so startled that I kicked him away with my foot —”

Volmo paused to catch his breath, then went on.

“The boy struck his head on the leg of the table and was badly hurt. Needless to say, I was found out. The people of the main house were probably delighted — they finally had an excuse to drive out the bastard who’d been a thorn in their side. But then, as chance would have it, the young lady who happened to be present spread both her arms wide and stepped in front of me to shield me. Why, she said, had this small child been sneaking about in the first place? Wasn’t it because he was starved of food and starved of affection, and so had slipped out to steal something to eat? The head attendant and my aunt were both at a loss and fell silent — you cannot imagine how glorious it was.”

On the aged bastard’s pale face the expression of a boy recalling a happy memory showed through.

“…Thanks to her, I was spared being thrown out onto the streets. Instead I came to live as a servant at the young lady’s villa. A few years later, when she married and left the house, I was cast out to the north a second time… but even so, I still revere her. She is a person who knows how to forgive.”

“The attendant?”

“Pardon?”

“The attendant you kicked. Did that child ever forgive you?”

Volmo thought it over for a moment.

“His head was hurt, and he wasn’t in any condition to understand what was said to him… but Lady Sebinya Gobir comforted me, saying that as a child I shouldn’t hold onto guilt for something already past.”

Whether he truly revered his former mistress or not, he smiled brightly for the first time, his eyes curving.

“How generous a person she is.”

Aspara consciously raised the corners of her mouth and smiled back.

[13.]

“Sebinya Gobir— ——.”

Gus lifted his face from his cupped palm. A word he had heard somewhere had caught his ear.

The more he mouthed the name over, the more alien it became. And yet the letters vividly conjured up a sudden, stomach-dropping sensation.

He tilted his head and cut into the conversation.

《What’s this about?》

Volmo, who had been smiling happily, flinched and pulled a properly solemn face back on.

《Ah, the present conversation is….》

《I was addressing my wife.》

The castle lord growled low in his throat. For a moment displeasure flickered across Volmo’s face, but he relayed the words politely.

“— ——.”

《We’re discussing an acquaintance of hers.》

《Someone I know?》

“You — — — — I — — — —.”

《How am I to know who you do and do not know.》

The content was curt, but his expression was genuinely that of a man for whom it was no great matter. Even so, unable to shake his uneasy feeling, Gus pressed on with one more question.

《Could it be that this person….》

《Eek!》

The half-blood youth who had been listening to the castle lord cried out sharply in alarm. Gus and Aspara both started in turn and looked to see what had caused it.

《Castle lord! It really is you — you were sitting down, so for a second I didn’t recognize you.》

《Star, manners! Pardon us, my lord — we spotted you on our way past.》

A cluster of maids, lightly tipsy on the atmosphere, were chattering away. The one Volmo had spotted and been so startled by was the smallest girl among them, Star.

It seemed the castle’s youngest, who had pulled off an enormous stunt and disappeared, had found herself a new friend to spend the holiday with. Though it was nothing much of a festival, she was enjoying herself to the fullest: in her arms was a jumble of odds and ends and paper medals that looked like game prizes.

《…You’ve got the wrong person.》

《Is that your concept? Sorry about that, mister. Is the festival fun?》

《Star!》

《Yeah.》

Volmo, evidently embarrassed by the strange noise he had let out, was doing his best to ignore the maids.

Whether they knew how he felt or not, the tipsy maids laughed and chattered in high voices.

《Why’s that man here? Where’ve Lord Ugli and his fellow gone?》

《Whose lad is he? I’ve never seen him before.》

《His arms are so thin. How old?》

《Look at him, all bashful.》

The bold-spirited women of the north peered curiously at the young man they had never seen before.

《Where are the usual two, and who’s this man?》

《There’s a reason.》

《Is he filling in for that knight?》

Star looked the unfamiliar stranger up and down, her tone brusque and her expression suspicious.

《Why are you looking for those two.》

《We’ve got something to keep an eye on.》

The maids, cheeks flushed, tittered together.

《To keep an eye on?》

《There’s a bet.》

《A silly little game.》

The words were dismissive, but the tone was not at all displeased to see the servants so lively for once.

《Yes. We heard the rumor that the castle lord and the madam’s knight were an item, got to talking about this and that, and ended up provoking each other into something.》

《What?》

《Oh, where did you get what the madam’s eating? It looks good.》

《What did you just say about me and who?》

《Come to think of it, they wouldn’t do that sort of thing where others could see. We should have wagered on something easier to verify.》

《To begin with, how is that even a bet — it’s more of a ‘tell us the story later’ sort of thing.》

《Listen here.》