Visit.

Aspara wondered whether this man had not been surprised in the slightest — whether, knowing full well that Flower was approaching, he had deliberately feigned ignorance, acted startled, and kicked the fellow on purpose.

But whether that was the case or not hardly mattered, so she let it drop.

“He said, ‘Yikes.’”

“Much obliged for the translation.”

Three or four of what appeared to be Flower’s servants scurried over and helped him up. Aspara stepped toward the man, who had just managed to get back on his feet, and asked,

“Whatever is it that you’re doing here?”

“Ughk— ahem. It has been some time, madam.”

After some back-and-forth, the two parties concluded they should first step into the inn where Flower’s entourage was lodging and talk there.

The reason no one had been at the village entrance came down to this. The village’s guests were packed shoulder-to-shoulder into the cramped inn, ferrying food and begging drinks, and Flower’s party, tossing around an amount of coin that for a village this small was nothing short of catastrophic, was evidently being treated to a lavish reception.

Flower dismissed his retainers from the inn, redid his grooming, and once more offered his greeting to his former wife. A southern-style greeting, in which he took hold of her hand with one of his own and raised it.

Aspara slipped her caught hand free and dipped her head slightly in a northern-style greeting in return.

Gus received neither form of greeting, but he did not appear to mind, merely picking at a bit of the food on the table.

Flower, too, paid the castle lord no mind, and launched into the conversation.

“…I hear that my wife paid you a visit some time ago.”

“Ah, yes, so she did.”

“I had been meaning to visit your home about that very matter, but to meet you here — the ties between us must truly be strong.”

“Um, your nose is bleeding again.”

“Before heading to the capital, I was resting for a short while at this village’s tavern, and to meet like this— ah, damn it.”

“It’s coming out of your forehead too.”

Flower’s servants hustled over in a flutter and dabbed the blood away.

“Ahem… I had meant to call at the castle and say this properly, but since it has come to this, I shall say it here.”

With his decidedly unstylish state of affairs, the man with the peach-colored eyes struck the most stylish pose he could muster, and said,

“Would you not return south with me.”

Volmo froze for an instant, the translation halting in his throat, and Aspara was struck with admiration.

Hmm, this is exactly like Act Three of those books Jack reads.

Her tension was sky-high. The tantrum of a former lover. Just like the romance novels Jack read. And that, the woman thought, must mean the date was going splendidly indeed.

“Is this the conclusion you reached after speaking with Madam Sebinya Gobir?”

“Yes. Thanks to your counsel, we were able to have a deep conversation. And this is the conclusion we reached.”

“And what kind of conversation was that?”

“All sorts of things. I also heard about the treatment you receive in this place.”

“…”

The Volmo beside her seemed to be choosing his words with considerable care, hesitating as he barely managed to keep the translation going.

“If I go south. Are you saying we divorce again?”

“No, I love Sebinya still.”

“Hmm.”

“There is something I learned only after I lost you. I said it, did I not, at the banquet last time. That after you left, I came to realize — it was not Sebinya I loved, but you. Yet that wasn’t it either. No, I love you too, but to put it precisely…”

He let his eyebrows droop and smiled, in the manner of a leading man in a penny-theater play about to deliver a very romantic line, and said,

“Without you, I cannot love Sebinya.”

“…Do go on.”

“The romance between Sebinya and myself was only possible because you were my faithful wife. I realized it only after you disappeared the second time.”

“The second time wasn’t disappearing, it was going home.”

As the conversation veered toward a destination no one could guess, only the pitiable interpreter, relaying it all to the castle lord, broke out in a cold sweat.

Heedless of the reactions of those around him, not even registering them, the man went on.

“Ever since Sebinya took on the household duties, she has grown more irritable, more indifferent to me — it’s nothing like before. So I thought perhaps my true love was not Sebinya but you… and thanks to your counsel to my wife, I realized. Our joyful romance continued because you were always behind us, shouldering the thankless work!”

With a benevolent expression, he said,

“I shall forgive you. I shall even double the dowry returned to the King of Barbarians, and take full responsibility for everything after your return, so come back as you were before.”

“Oh.”

Aspara considered the matter. She tried to recall what the heroines of romance novels did when this sort of rival appeared, but her brain was already so fatigued from the sheer effort of grasping the present situation that smoke was all but rising off it.

The pitiable interpreter, who had been sweating coldly this whole time, tapped the shoulder of the pondering Aspara.

“Um, Lady Aspara…”

“It’s all right. Keep translating.”

“No, it’s just — the castle lord keeps getting angry at me, telling me to stop the tripe and translate something that actually makes sense…”

“Hmm…”

Aspara pondered a moment, then sighed, straightened her back, and said,

“You seem to believe this is a proposal that would please me.”

“I think of nothing but what would please you.”

“Do you suppose the castle lord would be pleased to hear this story as well?”

“As I said — I have heard, in broad strokes, the state of your married life from my wife. And moreover…”

When he raised his right hand halfway, the servants set their hands on the hilts at their waists and, in an instant, arranged themselves in formation.

Gus, seeing this, reflexively took up a combat stance of his own. The small inn room filled at once with tension and bloodthirst.

“I feel not the slightest threat from the King of Barbarians.”

“Worried the King of Barbarians couldn’t handle five or six of your retainers?”

Faced with the woman’s utter refusal to be cowed, Flower flinched.

“Do you think I’m talking only about these five or so scraps at the table just now? Make an enemy of me, and the one in danger is this backwater hole.”

“First, lower your hand. Then we can talk.”

“One wave of my hand and a hundred thousand troops move; the economy of the north is overturned in a blink! Compared to the strength of a backwater nation like this, I might as well be the state itself, I might as well be the world itself. Do you think the north, picking a fight with me, could win?”

“The moment the other person reacted differently than you’d planned, you always got bent out of shape. You ought to fix that.”

Not listening, Flower grew drunk on his own words and began to shout.

“One wave of my hand and a hundred thousand troops move; the economy of this nation is overturned. What could that man do with a wave of his hand? Stop a passing carriage at best!”

“I could wave my hand once, too, and overturn your world.”

“You?”

“Yeah.”

Aspara turned her gaze upon the crowd and raised her hand to show them. Flower raised his face as well, doubtful yet at the same time wanting to confirm just what sort of ridiculous trick this woman meant to try.

The woman lifted her hand very high, very slowly. And when every gaze in the room had focused on her fingertips, with that raised hand,

she backhanded Flower across the face.

Never in Gus’s life had things been so complicated.

From his earliest memory onward, he had been holding a sword. With that sword in hand, when someone told him to fight, he went and fought; when told to win, he duly won. In his world, most things were settled by fighting someone, and once you won the fight, they were settled.

That had begun to waver once he met his wife.

Fights you weren’t supposed to kill anyone in, dancing in front of people, clinging so desperately to something called conversation — he had no idea what would make her smile.

The castle lord found it enjoyable. Bewildering, but enjoyable.

The unfamiliar world his wife revealed to him was always a place where bewilderment and joy coexisted.

So it was even now.

“Lady Aspara, — — —!”

“— — —! —!”

He didn’t know what they were saying, but his wife was thrashing a man who was spouting words he couldn’t make out. A very fine angle. A pity the balance through her lower body was a touch unsteady, but an excellent strike otherwise, using the whole shoulder to add rotational force.

《Though she is a bit short on muscle…》

The men of the central kingdom, unable to lay hands on a woman, simply dithered back and forth, making half-hearted gestures of restraint.

《Castle lord! That woman’s husband! Say something!》

《Mm… Interpreter.》

《Yes!!》

《Tell her that when striking upward, she ought to set her elbow a little higher.》

《Not that!》

The uproar ended only after Aspara, of her own accord, stopped, having struck Flower across the cheek six times. Seized by humiliation more than by pain, Flower clutched his cheek and cried out,

“I’ll— I’ll sue you, you!”

“This country is outside the reach of the law.”

“I don’t think it is, actually…”

“Quiet.”

Hushing Volmo, who was butting in from the side, Aspara went on.

“I’ve heard what you came to say. Now kindly be on your way.”

“But why!”

Flower shouted.

“I heard it all. You’re living in this dog of a country, not even getting the treatment you deserve! Does sharing me with Sebinya really sit that poorly with you? Shed a little of that greed!”

“Go home.”

“However gripped by jealousy you may be, what on earth could your reason be for staying on in this freezing, godforsaken little corner!”