Lullaby

Good thing he had cut the rope and gone out to look the moment he felt that familiar presence beyond the door.

The child, shaking with fright, burrowed into Keith’s arms without a shred of wariness.

“…”

A rush of tenderness welled up in him. She must have been so starved for someone to lean on, to hand that small body over to an uncle she was meeting for the first time. That kind of defenselessness could lead to real danger. The need to protect her thickened in him until he could no longer turn from it.

“Mm-mm, la, mm-mm-mm…”

A low, soft humming filled the plain little room. Keith patted her, curled up like a frightened rabbit, and carried the lullaby on.

“Mm-mm, mm-mm-mm, la, mm…”

A familiar tune. He knew this one too.

After he lost his mother, he had been sold to a large merchant company. In that country slavery was legal, and the company’s owner was a magnate with dozens of slaves under him.

The boy his own age who shared his room, who ate and slept beside him, was a Maktan. He was thin and unpromising to look at, the sort everyone pointed at and said would not last long.

On the nights he had been badly beaten, the boy would sing this song. Quietly, like water running between stones.

They never asked after each other. They barely even knew each other’s faces, always turning their backs to sleep.

Just as everyone had expected, the Maktan boy did not last long. Until a new slave came, Keith lived alone in the empty room, and there, where not even the moonlight reached, he would mimic the song the dead boy used to sing.

“Mm-mm, la, mm-mm-mm…”

He had not known he still remembered it. When Ardine’s tune broke off, the familiar melody had simply come flowing out of his mouth on its own.

“Mm-mm, mm-mm-mm, la, mm…”

The song you used to sing out of longing for home became my lullaby.

Why is it that every lullaby crushes the heart?

He was glad. Glad that he could give the child asleep in his arms the thing she needed.

The saddest thing in the world was to stand beside someone precious while they suffered, powerless to do anything at all. That was why he had made himself strong: he wanted to be of use to his elder brother. He could not stand at his side, but even from a distance he had gone on clearing away anything that became a threat to him. And then his brother had asked him to protect Ardine. At her side.

“Mmnh…”

Ardine stirred. Keith made a cradle of himself and gave her the rhythm she needed.

“Uncle’s here. So don’t be afr—”

“Un… cle…”

“…”

“Uncle…”

“That’s right. I’m here.”

He whispered it softly. Once Ardine was deep asleep, he straightened her out on the bed and tucked the quilt properly around her, then sat down below the bed himself. One knee drawn up, he went on singing the Makta lullaby until the thunder and lightning quieted, the tune that had been circling faintly in his mouth growing clearer little by little.

— Knock, knock.

Just then someone knocked. When he lifted his eyes to the door, a small voice came from the other side, almost a whisper.

“It’s Pai. Is the young lady with you, by any chance?”

“Come in.”

The door opened and Pai came in, a thin blanket thrown over her nightgown. The moment she caught sight of the child in the bed, the unease clouding her eyes cleared, and she let out a small sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank goodness. I was startled when she wasn’t beside me.”

“She seems to be afraid of thunder and lightning. I found her standing all alone in the corridor.”

“That’s right. I’m sorry. I’m certain I was told as much.”

“Not at all. Thanks to it, I feel we’ve grown a little closer.”

“Have you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you ought to be thanking me.”

Keith watched the face that had been stiff with tension bloom into a soft smile. She had been genuinely worried about Ardine, and now she was at ease. Something under his ribs went ticklish.

“She’s only just fallen asleep.”

He lowered his voice further. Pai nodded and tiptoed over, then sat down carefully beside him. He straightened his back on reflex; the shift jostled the bed, and Ardine squirmed. For a moment the two of them held their breath, afraid the child would wake. Then they caught each other’s eye and burst out laughing, pfft.

Keith murmured.

“You may go back to bed. I’ll look after Ardine.”

“No, that won’t do.”

“Sorry?”

“Because I have to look after you, Lord Keith.”

When he looked at her, puzzled, Pai flicked her eyes toward his wrist. A rope with one end cut clean through dangled from it.

“Ah.”

“You aren’t going to sleep, are you. I’m right, aren’t I.”

“Yes. Somehow I can’t…”

He could not fall asleep with Ardine beside him. There were only a few hours left until daybreak anyway, and staying awake sat easier on his mind.

Pai spoke as though she had read his mind.

“Time goes quickly when two people chatter. Now let’s see — I wonder if today’s the day.”

“The day — for what?”

“The day I become Your Grace’s very own jester.”

At that splendid smile, Keith’s mouth fell open like a fool’s. There was no need for any rope. He was already bound fast by those aquamarine eyes, glittering with mischief.

“Shall we start with a story from long ago, then? Once upon a time…”

— Shhhhhhh…

Her whispering voice mingled low with the sound of the rain. It felt as though a heart clogged with dust were being rinsed clean. His mind wonderfully clear, he made up his mind.

The next day, in the early afternoon, they decided to go back to Heliaria. Right up until they left, Ardine stayed glued to Mareni’s side, chattering about how she had slipped out of the White Castle, how she had ended up with Pai and Keith, and what it had felt like to use the transfer scroll.

“And Ari’s getting to keep a doggy, too!”

Ardine had not forgotten the snow wolf, of course. She had even scrubbed it down herself at the inn the evening before, and once the grime was washed away the ‘doggy’ turned out, astonishingly, to have silver fur. A single wash could not make an animal healthy overnight, so the coat was still dry and brittle; but once they were home and it had been fed and cared for properly, it was sure to shine.

“What a pretty puppy. What’s its, kaff, name?”

“Gah, Ari hasn’t decided.”

While Mareni stroked the snow wolf, Ardine put forward several candidates with a very serious face. She had, however, no gift whatsoever for naming things.

“Ummm… What about just calling it ‘Puppy’?”

“I’m afraid that might be a bit of a problem.”

Pai objected. To her mind, the baby snow wolf might well end up confused about its own identity.

“Why?”

“Well… because it would be strange to go on calling it ‘Puppy’ once it’s a ‘Dog’…? Wouldn’t it, Lord Keith?”

“Yes. I think another name would be better.”

Ardine perched on the edge of the bed, swinging her small feet, and muttered.

“Mm. Is that so? Then… then…”

“The fur’s, silver, so — Silver… hff… how would that be.”

Mareni offered a suggestion of her own. She was gasping for breath, and then coughed several times over, so Ardine pressed a cup of water into her dry hand.

Ardine gazed steadily at her nanny gulping the water down, then opened her mouth.

“Ari’s going to call it Reni.”

“…”

“Mareni’s hair is silver too, and… Ari won’t get to see you for a thousand nights, so Ari wants to be able to say the name at least.”

“My lady.”

“You have to get better quickly, Mareni.”

“…”

“It’s Ari’s order.”

Ardine threw herself down over Mareni and hugged her. The baby snow wolf, caught between the old woman and the child, whined and whined.

With all the strength she had, Mareni gathered up the child she had raised with such love.

“I promise. Ardine.”

Tears soaked into the snow wolf’s downy fur. It gave a great startled howl and leapt down off the bed.

Going back was only a matter of retracing the road they had come by: carriage as far as the port city, and from there to the North’s hub city by transfer scroll.

Ardine fell asleep almost the instant she climbed into the carriage, and Reni, tucked in her arms, did nothing but sleep soundly too. The nearer they drew to the North, the more the snow wolf seemed to gather strength. That was only natural. A creature made for a cold climate had been hauled down south, so of course its body had run down.

“Yip! Yip!”

“Shh, Reni… Shh!”

The carriage, carrying a woman and a man, a child and a puppy, rolled through the castle gate. In front of the main keep, Bishe and several of the staff, along with Enri, had come out ahead of time to wait for them.

“Young master.”

“My lady…!”

“Cap-taaain!!!”

Each of those who had come out to meet them called the name of the one they had been waiting for.

“Yip! Yip!”

“Oh my. Where has this puppy come from…”

Ardine held the baby snow wolf up high to show the maid.

“This one’s name is Reni!”

“My laaady—! You’ll be the death of me, my lady, you truly will. Heavens, your face… your face… heavens, you’re positively glowing…?!”

Enri, who had gone to throw his arms around Keith only to be refused, made a show of sobbing. Bishe bowed her head respectfully.

Keith said.

“You’ve all had a hard time of it.”

“We certainly have. A hard time of it indeed. It would have been nice if you’d dropped me even a hint that the housekeeper is first cousin to a dragon, wouldn’t it?”

“Because you’re in need of having your manners corrected.”

“That’s really too harsh…”

Pai stood several paces behind, engraving that warm scene into her eyes. The sight of people glad to see one another was strange to her.

What must it feel like, to have someone waiting for you?

The feeling was an old one, one that had nothing to do with the regression, so old that Pai could not even begin to picture it.

Look only ahead.

Inwardly she shook her head hard.

And don’t look back.

She meant to slip into the castle unnoticed, like a shadow.

“Miss Pai.”

But Keith had called her name. Everyone, faces reddened by the cold wind, looked at her all at once.

Pai took a short, deep breath and turned slowly around. Keith was giving her a straight, level look.

“Yes, Lord Keith.”

“There’s something I’d like to say to you in private.”

“…”

“Could you… spare me a moment?”

The wind blew. The hot scent that had tickled the tip of her nose when she fell on top of him seemed to grow stronger.

Pai tucked the fine strands of hair straying loose like threads behind her ear, and nodded.