Spurned.

Spurned.

Ugli, wearing an expression of Is this really how you do it? I’m not so sure, went ahead and seized the fellow by the hair.

“…I don’t know exactly what this is, but this fight doesn’t look very dignified.”

Jack remarked, eyeing the brawl before them.

“Mm…”

“Let go, let go, let go, let go, let go!”

“A moment ago it was altogether magnificent. Well — in terms of sheer intensity, I suppose right now is far stronger.”

“That’s true enough.”

Aspara had remembered something: just as the purple dye was precious to her, there was something equally precious to Flower.

Hair-roots.

That was what Aspara had remembered: the weakness of Flower. No, of his house. Gazing up at the glossy foreheads in the portraits of the successive house-heads hung in the parlor, Aspara had thought it through.

“Ah! Wait! Wait a moment!”

“Very good — hold on tight, Ugli! Don’t pull them all out at once, though. If they all come out, there’ll be nothing left to hold.”

What, exactly, was going on, Ugli hadn’t the faintest idea either.

He was a former soldier with no shortage of combat experience, but a battlefield where, instead of drops of blood, tufts of hair pattered down onto the floor was a first even for him.

“That’s it! No — first, get him to surrender!”

“I surrender! I surrender, I said!”

“He’s been saying he surrenders for a while now, my lady.”

“Oh my — was he?”

Jack nodded, a sunny smile on his face.

What was what, he wasn’t entirely sure; but, well, it’d been a long time since Aspara-my lady had looked this pleased. Surely that meant things were going well.

“All right — wait, wait, let’s talk — stop pulling!”

“I did see what you hung up in the square, Lord Flower. It seems you made quite sure to spread the gossip to the papers over this whole affair. Well — I did hear you’ve been having no small amount of fun in society circles, selling stories about me ever since the divorce.”

Aspara stepped closer to Flower as she spoke. With his hair seized, the man stood half-crouched and rigidly still, afraid even a single strand more might fall.

“You were shaping public opinion so that the moment I made any move at all, you could lead troops north on the strength of it. Well — thanks to that, you aren’t the only one whose voice in the papers has grown louder.”

“Look — look, let go of the hair first, and we can talk—”

“Think about it. A man who forgave his former wife’s infidelity, and yet she returned to the barbarians anyway; and the white-horsed man who ventured into the barbarians’ country to bring her back…. It’s a fine scenario. I understand what you had in mind when you arranged the pieces this way. But….”

Aspara brought her face close to the man’s and whispered.

“What do you suppose the picture would look like if the man on the white horse were suddenly, somehow, bald?”

“Just over something so trivial — so easily—”

“If you follow up into the north after this, you’d better expect to find yourself in the papers as the man who led an army out because his ex-wife had yanked him bald. I’ll stake every connection I have left on naming your little campaign, you bastard, the ‘Battle of the Bald.’”

Flower’s face had gone as pale as his scalp.

The hereditary baldness of the men of House Bat was the elephant in the room that everyone in society knew about and pretended not to notice. One did not go bandying about the blind spot of a house as wealthy as House Bat at one’s leisure.

But what better gossip-fodder was there than the blind spots of the well-to-do? The instant a single cause to bring the subject up was tossed into their midst, they would tear into it with relish; that much was obvious.

A cause!

The war in the south is a war of cause. That brief sentence she had spoken to Ugli was the inspiration for this all-or-nothing gamble.

What remained now hinged on Flower’s value-judgment.

Choose Aspara, or choose his standing in society.

“…Very well.”

After a long silence, and the additional sacrifice of two more fistfuls of hair, the man finally opened his mouth.

“I won’t pursue you, so go back. I didn’t particularly want to join my life to a woman like you anyway.”

“The cloth.”

Aspara extended her hand in a smooth motion, her face saying she did not particularly care about the man’s insults.

“Return it, please.”

Flower glared at the woman, shaking. It wasn’t only out of anger. Because his hair was seized by Ugli, who was taller than he was, the man was standing up on tiptoe to take as much strain off his hair-roots as possible.

“….”

He plunged a hand into the deepest fold of his inner shirt and drew out, from a doubly-wrapped pocket, a scrap of fine cotton cloth.

The object that had caused all this uproar. A piece of purple cloth a little larger than a child’s palm.

“Here!”

The man thrust out his hand and flung the object to the floor.

“Pick it up yourself.”

“So that’s where you kept it.”

Aspara picked the object up and held it to the sunlight. Once again she was struck by how fine the color was. Set against the shell-dye purple that had been hung on the banner-stand at the center of the mansion, it stood out even more.

“Let me ask one thing too.”

At the unexpected question Aspara lifted her eyes from the scrap of cloth and turned to the man. For one whose hair had been seized, he was glaring with a rather terrifying expression as he went on:

“That purple. You didn’t just take the south’s resources north and produce it there, did you?”

“Who can say.”

“For you to have circulated the forwards that way… you must be confident you can push it as far as market-price control. Today you may have won, but don’t forgeeeeeeet — all right! All right, I’m sorry. Leave the hair alone!”

“Hold on gently, Ugli. Don’t let go entirely, though.”

Ugli, looking pleased with himself, eased the force of his grip.

“Ha….”

“Then let me ask something too, if I may.”

“…Very well.”

“There’s a word I never got to pass on to Sebinya. I should have said it to her myself, but it doesn’t seem I’ll have the time to….”

Flower frowned. He had no idea what Aspara was about to add, but he expected it would surely be some sharp barb aimed at Sebinya.

“Tell her the figs were delicious, and I enjoyed them very much.”

Gus spent those few days like an old dog waiting for its master to come home. Of course, unlike an old dog, the castle lord had no shortage of odd jobs and duties to distract himself with. But all those many tasks, before a lord whose focus had sharpened to an uncanny degree, were finished off in no time at all.

While I’m at it, I could take on some external work — no, she could return at any time; I can’t leave the castle empty.

Today was the same. The castle lord sat staring into the empty air of his private chamber, vaguely waiting for something to do.

Today, however, one new event occurred. A young man flung the door open and came bursting in.

《Castle lord! …sir!》

Volmo’s round eyes were wide, and he shouted breathlessly.

《She’s come back!》

《What?》

《Ma—… what were you doing?》

《Working.》

《…At attention, face-down on the floor?》

《Is that a problem?》

《You’ll pull a muscle in your mouth.》

Gus lifted his heavy frame from the ground with an embarrassed look.

《So — what was it you said had arrived?》

“— ——.”

A familiar woman’s face popped out from behind Volmo’s back.

《Ah——! It — it’s the madam!》

The castle lord, who had been half-lifting himself from the floor by degrees, sprang sharply upright.

《Lady Aspara has returned. All three of us made it back safely. The other two have gone off to write up their reports.》

《I see.》

The castle lord cleared his throat and set in order the clothes that had gotten dirty from his lying splayed out on the floor like a sea anemone.

《…Madam.》

“— – I’m sorry.”

《She says she’s sorry for keeping you waiting.》

《I hadn’t been waiting so very long.》

The two of them exchanged greetings with a composure that gave no hint they were a husband and wife who had been separated for some time.

The castle lord did not so much as mention how long he had waited, or what he had prepared while waiting, or even the matter of the gift he had received some time back. His wife did the same.

They merely asked calmly after each other’s well-being.

《How was your journey?》

“….”

Having received the castle lord’s question, the woman thought it over quietly for a moment, then answered with a faint smile.

“You —— — more —— – —.”

《She says, “I feel I’ve grown a little closer to your dear friend.”》

With Ugli? Gus, receiving this unexpected answer, lifted one eyebrow slightly, then, without any further questions, merely nodded.

《I’ve heard your report well. You must be tired from the long journey — please, go in and rest.》

With those words Gus saw the two of them to the door of his private chamber and shut it with a sharp bang.

Outside the closed door, Volmo grumbled to himself.

“Honestly, there isn’t an ounce of warmth in the man. Is that any sort of attitude for greeting a wife he hasn’t seen in ages?”

“Not an ounce of warmth? His manner was positively effusive compared to usual.”

“Have you lost your— is your mental health in a precarious state?”

“It’s always like this. Was it hard on you while I and the others were away?”

“Having more space to myself was a pleasure, thank you.”

The answer was curt, but his expression was plainly delighted to anyone who looked, and Aspara smiled a little.

“…Ah, now that I think of it.”

About two stretches down the corridor, Aspara came to a stop.

“What is it?”

“I forgot to pass on a few more details to the castle lord about the trade arrangement. Volmo, I’m sorry, but would you interpret for me a little longer?”

“Yes.”

The two of them turned back toward the castle lord’s private chamber and rapped gently on the thick wooden door.

Two or three knocks brought no answer, so Volmo shrugged and threw the door open.

《Excuse me, Castle lor—》

He halted the half-opened door at the sight of the scene inside the room.

The castle lord had buried his face in a pillow and, letting out a muffled shout, was pummeling the bedding thump thump.

“Mm… he seems to be busy. Let’s come back later.”

“Yes….”

Click.

The two of them carefully closed the door and withdrew from the private chamber.