Fig.

Fig.

“Friends, huh. I don’t have any.”

Maybe this is the kind of awkward situation you land in when you go stealing other people’s wishes.

“Is this saying that from now on I’ll have a friend, and then quarrel with him, and then make up with him too? Heh — it’s going to be a busy day.”

Stroking the rat in his pocket, Volmo felt a pang of pity for the foreign ex-princess.

[14.]

She’s just happy she got the envelope — doesn’t even look like she means to ask what’s inside…

Ugli felt some of his tension ease. He had been watching the stupid little scene quietly from the far side of the room.

Nothing to worry about right this moment.

He was relieved.

Volmo was an idiot who wouldn’t try to get close with the northern natives anyway. So long as he steered clear of situations like today’s, Ugli was certain he could keep watch on him well enough through Jack going forward.

Best to get back to his original post, he decided, before anyone caught him hovering like a stalker.

Standing in Ugli’s path as he turned toward the staircase was a familiar figure.

“Ugli!”

《Yikes.》

It was Jack. He stood there wearing the look of a dog waiting to be praised. Right down to the dark-blue mark stamped into his forehead, the whole picture was dog-like.

Ugli reflexively reached out and cupped the bruise.

“Did you get close to the stone-hurling?”

“Yeah. In exchange, here — this is for you.”

Jack flinched as the wounded spot got pinched, even as he proudly brandished the crumpled paper in his hand.

“Everyone was picking one up… you’d seemed kind of out of sorts, so I wanted to grab one for you.”

“You got this, and got hit while picking it up.”

“No, I got this, and then got so excited running around that I rammed it into Miss Star’s jaw.”

“I see…”

“Miss Star went straight to the physician, so she’ll be fine.”

How on earth do you collide with someone like that…

He unfolded the twice-folded paper, a papery rustle tickling his ears, and ran his eyes over the carefully printed letters inside.

《Drawing one this useless is hard to manage, actually.》

“Do you like it? What does it say?”

“May you be blessed with a daughter.”

“Uh-h…”

Watching Jack mumble, his face flushed with earnest anticipation, Ugli was suddenly struck by how absurd the whole situation was and burst out laughing.

He pushed himself off the pillar he’d been leaning against and turned down the staircase.

“Let’s go grab one for you too. I’ll show you how to throw stones while we’re at it… and maybe this time I’ll get some strange rumors started about me too.”

“Didn’t you have business on the second floor?”

“Doesn’t matter now.”

Let the last of the holiday wrap up cozily, with 2.5 people in attendance, Ugli decided.

Watching a thoughtlessly happy man right in front of him, maybe he’d caught the urge to unwind just as thoughtlessly himself.

“Ah, but — I couldn’t prepare figs. Turns out picking out every single seed really is too much.”

“Huh? Oh, right, that.”

“I was surprised to hear it. Turns out you have a childish side to you too.”

“Hm?”

“I used to be a picky eater when I was little, so I get it. But there’s no need to lie and say you don’t want to eat them.”

“…”

“It’s all right — being a picky eater is nothing to be ashamed of! From now on, let’s work on overcoming it together!”

Only then did Ugli remember. Ah, right, this guy came from farming stock after all.

Watching that smug, self-satisfied face laughing heh heh — it was plain to see he’d be bringing this up to needle him for a while. Still, for making a fool of his sweetheart—

—for making too much of a fool of him, he figured, it was a punishment to be swallowed with good grace.

Once the holiday ended, nothing much had changed. People grew busier with the work they’d let pile up, and the settled dregs of revelry brought a touch of melancholy.

The biggest change, if anything, was that Ugli had recently started keeping a fig more or less permanently in his mouth.

When people asked what was going on, he’d give the inexplicable answer, “Karma.”

Those who heard this would tilt their heads and conclude that Master Ugli must have always liked figs. Since he was generally a well-regarded man around the castle, his nearby colleagues started gifting him more and more figs.

《Master Ugli. I’ve got something to check — oh, wow, it smells sweet in here.》

《You’re here…》

Ugli, who had been tidying his desk, didn’t bother glancing up at the sudden visitor and spoke with his head still bent. His eyes were as dead as a corpse’s; only his mouth was working, chewing.

The young attendant twitched her nose.

《Your room smells sweet. I thought you hated sweet things.》

《I do hate them…》

《Then why are you eating so many?》

《Picky-eater rehabilitation training… Take some, if you want. Just don’t let anyone find out you got them from me…》

He swept his tongue across his teeth to check for any fig seeds lodged between them, then raised his head.

《Anyway, just finish all this and for a while I can— ah, right, so what brings you?》

《Oh.》

The young attendant who’d come to his room scratched the back of her neck.

《An entry application came in. They said they’ll be visiting the castle.》

《Here? And when’s the visit?》

《Today.》

《I haven’t received any entry report.》

《That’s… the border boys just let them through, apparently.》

《What?》

The girl flicked a sidelong glance out the window, and Ugli’s eyes followed her gaze. A strangely glinting lump had settled against the edge of the window.

Ugli pressed himself flat against the wall and peered outside.

《Ah! My eyes!》

It was a gaudy carriage. No, gaudy wasn’t quite right; garish was the word. The details weren’t clear, but the carriage was clad in some glittering material, reflecting the snow and sunlight so completely that from a distance it looked like nothing but a great mass of white light.

What sort of lunatic is this now.

Tongue clicking sharply in his head, Ugli pressed his cheek to the wall and asked,

《Who is it.》

《Uh—》

The girl hesitated for a moment and rustled through her papers.

《One second. The name’s rather long… anyway, it was a woman’s name.》

《A woman with a long name.》

Ugli narrowed his eyes and focused on the view beyond the window. Had a door just opened? He couldn’t quite make it out, but someone was definitely walking out of that lump of light.

The figure stepping through the halo of light was, without a doubt, the chestnut-haired woman he had met not long ago at the banquet.

“I knew it!”

Volmo was bouncing on his feet with delight. The thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders slid off and got trampled onto the floor, and the rat that had been sleeping on his belly, startled by the sudden upheaval, leapt up with him.

“I knew it! What did I say!”

“Whoa, congratulations! But — what about?”

Volmo was sharing a room with Jack. The castle lord had wanted the man stowed in a latched underground chamber, but Ugli had said, “Southern pretty-boys are best restrained by social ties, not by force, my lord.” His argument: if Volmo became close with Jack, he’d never up and bolt.

Then wouldn’t sticking Jack down in the cellar too be twice as secure? the castle lord had countered, which was, naturally, dismissed out of hand.

Ugli’s argument, as it happened, was correct.

Jack and Volmo had a remarkable number of things in common. Environment, station, even their taste for penny romances.

The two men had become quite close through the pajama parties Jack hosted nightly. (They themselves insisted the gatherings were “the Honorable Men’s Nocturnal Fraternity,” but when Ugli got wind of what went on, he shut it down with, “That’s literally a pajama party.”)

“It’s the young lady’s carriage. She’s come to rescue me!”

“Really? How romantic. Just like a knight in a novel.”

“Exactly — totally — no, wait, it’s not romantic… no! The young lady and I aren’t in that sort of… no, hold on. If that’s the case, then the young lady is the knight.”

The long legs that had been bouncing came to an abrupt stop.

“That’s right.”

“That’s not good at all…”

“Does it matter?”

Volmo flopped down onto the blanket on the floor and dragged a hand down his face. The silk-furred rat, variously called Gangster, or Alexandrine, or Squeaky, sidled up quietly and licked his face.

Thanks to the northerners’ way of raising animals with no notion of keeping livestock penned in, the little fellow had become a communal pet rat roaming from room to room, but even so, his favorite haunt was these two men’s warm chamber. Volmo was proud of that fact.

“The shame… I’ll take my own life…”

“Then who’s going to feed Gangster.”

“It’s Alexandrine…”

Volmo rolled onto his side and curled up into a ball. He reached a hand downward to stroke the soft pet rat, but Gangster, Alexandrine, Squeaky had already darted beneath the bed.

From outside came a polite knock-knock at the door.

“Who is it? Come— 《Cume een.》”

“Jack.”

“Ah! Young lady.”

Jack cried out, briefly startled. The one who had opened the door wasn’t the next-room worker come to complain about the noise; it was Aspara, wearing her outdoor walking coat.

Volmo, who had been sprawled on the floor, had at some point shot up onto his feet and was presenting a salute, a hand clasped around a sword he didn’t actually have.

“Busy?”

“We were on a tea break. Would you like a fig?”

“Why are there so many figs in the castle lately… no, never mind. A guest has arrived, and I’d like you to come out to the inner courtyard.”

“Excuse me — this guest, could it possibly be…!”

Volmo broke posture and cut into the conversation.

“Oh, yes. Someone you know too, isn’t she?”

“I… wouldn’t it be best if I came out as well?”

“You too?”

Aspara shrugged with apparent indifference.

“Fine, then. I’ll go ahead and exchange greetings first, so you two take your hair down, get changed, and come out.”

“Understood.”

“Thank you!”

The moment the lady of the house closed the door and left, the two of them hurriedly unbraided the hair they’d plaited for each other last night during the “Honorable Men’s Nocturnal Fraternity.”