A Dispatch.

In that case, then really…

How could he leave this woman behind in the south and go back, just the two of them, himself and Jack?

The first thing that came to mind was the filthy rumor about Jack and Aspara. He could stir it up, then persuade Flower that Jack must not be allowed to remain at Aspara’s side.

Flower. And yet the man was too devoid of common sense. Given his strange circuits of thought, he might well blurt out some nonsense like, “Jack and Aspara are still in love? Well, what of it — let’s all have a five-way romance!”

Then the best method…

Would be to have Aspara herself give up. If she would only say, “I shall remain here for the sake of the north. Jack, you return with your splendid, beloved paramour and live happily,” that would settle the whole business.

It shouldn’t be so very hard, either.

Jack was far happier living with him in the north. A choice so obvious anyone could see it, one in which every party ended up happy.

Aspara, who respected her own servant, would surely be glad to send Jack back.

As for the castle lord… at first it will be hard for him, but he’ll forget her quickly enough. There are plenty of far better women up north.

The wheels must have caught on a stone; the carriage gave a great jolt.

Gus, left behind at the castle, was wrestling with worries of his own.

It wasn’t that he doubted his wife. He had no right to doubt her. And yet…

What if she really does go?

Aspara was a woman who didn’t know how to cherish herself. Seen generously, it was self-sacrificing; seen less generously, she simply had no interest in her own welfare.

Aspara, a southern bride, had no particular reason to care for the northern nation. But Aspara, who placed no value on herself, might well be willing to hand herself over.

Gus clenched his fist.

If only I too had money… if only I had something worth exchanging for that wretched purple dye…

But the most precious thing in his castle had climbed into a carriage and departed only a moment ago.

As for Treasure Number Two, well, there was a splendid letter tucked in the deepest corner of his safe. The fine letter of unknown contents his wife had given him on the Festival of the God of Love.

But that was only the castle lord’s extremely personal treasure. There was no chance it could be of any value to an outsider.

Ah, what foolish thoughts am I entertaining… I must not think too deeply right now. The deeper my thoughts go, the more I begin to doubt my wife.

Gus looked about the room, trying to turn his mind to other things.

But today was the day he had originally planned to spend an entire afternoon out on an outing with his wife. To free up the time, he had rushed through all of this week’s business in advance. What on earth was he supposed to do while he waited? Like an anxious dog, the castle lord circled the same spot round and round.

《Ah, yes — come to think of it, I had a promise with Volmo.》

With everything that had happened, he had forgotten, but this morning he had asked the young interpreter to teach him the southern tongue.

What if he began the lessons now, while his wife was away? So that when she returned, he might offer her a single greeting in the southern tongue.

Or else…

《Perhaps I ought to write a reply to the letter.》

Gus took the letter he had kept so carefully in his safe and set off for Volmo’s room.

“What on earth is that banner?”

“It says ‘I forgive you.’”

“That part I know. What I’m asking is why the thing is hung up there in the first place.”

“Hmm… probably to convey the meaning that he forgives her, don’t you think?”

“No…”

The banner was hung on the front of what was most likely a large private building owned by Flower’s house. At the same time, it was a spot visible to every soul passing through the square.

By tomorrow or so, it would probably be in the papers. No, it might already be.

That madman…

It looked like a declaration: cause a fuss at the estate, and he could seize public opinion however he wished. That Flower meant to flaunt the gap in power before they had even met, the naked self-interest of it, turned Aspara’s stomach.

They had driven perhaps five more minutes past the banner when the coachman turned around and called back to her.

《— ——.》

“We’ve arrived. The estate’s private grounds begin just ahead.”

The carriage stopped before a great mansion. A pure-white building with gaudy ornaments glittering from every awning and pillar. Flower’s estate.

The road inside the estate grounds was better maintained than the city’s main avenue, and the rattling of the carriage slackened noticeably; in its place, the sound of fountain water took over.

Halfway across the garden, Ugli murmured in a low voice.

“Do you have a plan?”

“Mm.”

“What is it?”

“Demand that he give it back. The cloth.”

“And then?”

“Mmm…”

She rolled her eyes back and forth a few times, then answered.

“I’ll take it and go home. I did give the castle lord my word I’d come back.”

“And then?”

“And then what else is there to do?”

“Well…”

Just as he’d suspected. No particular plan, no strategy. What on earth had he been expecting from this woman?

And yet Ugli could not bring himself to sigh. In Aspara’s crinkled, smiling eyes there was an unaccountable confidence, a groundless confidence, and yet, strangely, one that made him want to believe.

“…Understood. I wish you the best of luck, then.”

“Hm? Ugli, aren’t you coming in with me?”

“I need to stay outside separately. If something happens inside the estate, someone has to be in a position to send word back to our country. Wasn’t that the whole reason you brought me along in the first place?”

Seeing Aspara nod, Ugli turned once again to Jack.

“Then Jack — you stay by Lady Aspara’s side and —”

“Ah, Jack won’t be with me either.”

“Pardon?”

“He has his own business to see to.”

Ugli looked at the young man as if asking what, exactly, that business was. But no answer came.

“Then you’re going into Flower’s estate…”

“I’ll go alone.”

“Will that be all right?”

“It’ll be fine. Though it might take some time.”

Already the carriage had reached the great front gate of the mansion, and the woman hopped lightly down.

“Jack, I’ll leave the rest in your hands.”

“Leave it to me!”

Watching Aspara’s retreating figure as she headed toward the estate, Ugli realized something all at once.

Come to think of it — this woman doesn’t wait anymore for someone to open the carriage door for her.

“You’re here early.”

“And you’re late, I see.”

Only after Aspara had drained her teacup twice over did the master of the estate finally make his appearance.

Flower. A man who, in his younger days, had had, at the very least, a face she had thought pretty. But the face of the man she hadn’t seen in so long was, how to put it…

Was his face this… bleary-looking?

His features were indistinct, and he gave the impression of a man small of stature.

In particular, the mouth Aspara had clocked the last time, now puffed up and swollen, sent the last grain of affection she still had for him fluttering clean away.

“It seems you were rather impatient to see me.”

Aspara ignored Flower’s smarmy remark, spread all five fingers wide, and held out her palm.

“Yes. Hand it over — quickly.”

“On the way —”

“Hand it over. Quickly.”

“These days you seem to —”

“Give it.”

Aspara, like a broken music box, kept repeating the only point that mattered. The corners of Flower’s mouth, lifted clean up, twitched in a small, spasmodic jerk, but the woman paid it no mind.

Indeed, if this man’s affection for her were to wither away, was that not to her advantage?

“Hah… ha ha. You are, as always, an absolutely delightful person to converse with.”

The man cleared his throat once and regained his composure.

“I can guess what your business here is.”

“Oh my, really? How very perceptive of you. To pick up on so faintly-revealed a woman’s hopes.”

Flower, pretending to have become grave, pitched his voice low to command the atmosphere.

“Madam.”

“Former madam.”

“My eternal love. At our last meeting I was much surprised. At the moment, I mean, when you… sent my jawbone flying.”

“And I was much surprised when you appeared before me.”

“Ha ha — the north truly does seem to have changed a person. I had no idea you could behave so savagely.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

The two of them laughed, ha ha ha. A laughter that ended artificially, like a metronome ticking out a beat, tick, tock.

“Since you are so inclined, Madam, then let me come straight to the point.”

He set down his teacup with a click and said,

“I’m sure the king of the barbarians has told you. To get the thing and come straight back, whatever it takes.”

“Has he, now.”

“That’s what’s so irritating about you going over to someone else’s side. Once someone tells you to do something, that’s all you’ll do. Not a shred of flexibility… it makes you harder to persuade than the most opinionated knight. How is one to change the opinion of someone who has no opinion to begin with?”

“…”

“But do you know something? You are not nearly as helpless a person as you believe yourself to be.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play the victim — pretending you don’t want to be here, pretending you were dragged about by other people, pretending you’re weak and powerless and that’s why you’ve ended up like this.”

Aspara, facing Flower’s smiling countenance, felt a sense of déjà vu. A face she had seen any number of times.

“You have never once lived powerlessly. You have always lived a life of choosing, with will. The choice of ‘making no choice at all.’”

When he had introduced Sebinya, announcing he had found someone. When he had asked, I’m sorry, but could you move bedrooms for Sebinya’s sake? When he had asked, The silk-furred rat you’ve been keeping — would you not make a gift of him to Sebinya?

“Let’s consider your knight. That fellow truly is a powerless creature. Failed every promotion exam there was, doesn’t even know how to hold a sword properly, and as for his luck with masters — rock bottom.”