6
“They keep unearthing more and more bones from the poor missing bastards at the bottom of that spring. Mostly just bones now, but from their clothes and belongings, they can tell who’s who.”
Several days after the mystery of the spring had been solved, Al relayed the latest news to Priscilla. They were on the second-story balcony of Bariel Manor, having midday tea. Priscilla’s expression twisted into a frown as she was interrupted mid-sip by Al’s arrival.
“That spring? What spring?”
“Dude, it’s the epilogue of the evil spirit story from just the other day! It’s scary how plausible it is that you actually forgot…”
“Spring…evil spirit…oh, you mean Ladrima. And don’t bring up a story I’ve already lost interest in. I suppose you think there’s something more to it.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault? Did I do an oopsie? Well, I’m so sorry, milady!”
After offering an exaggerated apology to the now-bored (and slightly annoyed) Priscilla, Al sat down across from her. A warm breeze swept through the balcony. The gentle sunlight made the air so comfortable, it practically dared Al to take a nap.
Seeing his lazy posture, Priscilla placed her teacup back on the table with a snort. “Frankly, I’m surprised you were able to dig up that old story in your sorry state. Just for the record, your performance that day was below Schult’s level.”
“I can’t deny that, so please stop! And why is that the part you remember?!”
Al wished he could forget how he had fallen for the water mirror’s illusion and weighed down the team. Now that she had brought it up again, his face burned red beneath his helmet. Frustrated, he jabbed a finger at Schult, who was quietly pouring more tea.
“For that matter, why didn’t the water mirror’s illusions work on either of you? Princess, you’re not normal, so that makes sense, but Schult’s just your run-of-the-mill boy toy bait!”
“Ooh—yes, sir. I am just boy toy bait…”
“The way you blushed kinda proved my point, but FYI, ‘boy toy bait’ is not exactly a compliment.”
As Schult giggled nervously, Al roughly tousled his hair and pressed his cheek against the boy’s, scrutinizing him. Schult looked puzzled as he lowered his head.
“I didn’t do anything all that special, sir,” he said. “And what do you mean by illusions?”
“We have to start from there?!”
“It isn’t all that complicated,” Priscilla interjected. “Unlike some people I could mention, Schult simply didn’t have any dead loved ones he longed to see yet pretended he didn’t for the sake of his ego. He simply did not meet the preconditions necessary to be affected by the water mirror’s curse.”
Snatching Schult away from Al’s grasp, Priscilla buried the boy’s face into her chest. As Al watched the utterly unfair scene, he frowned behind his helmet, still mulling over what she had said.
Schult hadn’t been trapped by the illusions—because he had no memories capable of trapping him. He was an orphan, picked up off the street on the brink of death. He had no cherished memories of family or a past life from before Priscilla had taken him in. That was why the illusions had no effect on him.
And if that was the case…was he lucky or unlucky to have escaped the mist’s grasp? That was difficult to say.
“At the very least, I sure don’t feel that lucky…”
Every encounter in the mist, whether with the living or the dead, had been unwelcome. None of them had been real, anyway.
“……”
Hiding his emotions behind his helmet, Al stole a glance at Priscilla, who was still holding Schult close with an air of casual amusement.
When she had skewered the shadow with her flaming Sunlight Blade, she hadn’t asked Al what he had seen in the mist. She hadn’t even seemed curious about what she had burned to ashes.
But it wasn’t out of kindness or tact—it was simply part of her nature. And even knowing that, Al had to admit that her actions had saved him. Beautifully.
“Al—why are you staring at me? I won’t let you trade places with Schult.”
“Though I do envy the kid, that’s not why I’m staring! Right—Princess, be honest, did you really not see anything in that mist?”
“Sorry to disappoint, but the only dearly departed in my life is my beloved husband.”
“For the last time, he’s not dead! Sure, I met him in the mist, but that’s beside the point!”
Speaking of unwanted reunions, running into Lyp had been particularly awkward.
Priscilla chuckled at Al’s frustration, but Schult looked utterly shocked. After her brief laugh, she tilted her head and asked, “By the way, Al, where did you hear that most recent village news?”
“Oh, right. A messenger from the village stopped by. Told me how things turned out and asked me to pass on their regards…oh, and they left some flowers at the front door.”
“—! You big oaf, why didn’t you say so sooner?!”
“Waaagh! P-Princess?!”
Al’s last remark made Priscilla hoist Schult into her arms and leap right off the balcony with an unmistakable sparkle in her eye. Without hesitation, she took off at full speed.
Al quickly scrambled after her.
He didn’t catch up with them until they reached the front door of the mansion—where a giant bouquet awaited.
“Mmhmm! Magnificent, elegant, and lovely. People of Ladrima, you have my praise!”
With her hands on her hips, Priscilla admired the bouquet—a wild, chaotic array of the finest bright red flowers that had arrived with the village’s report.
Her reaction was eerily similar to how she had admired the gorgeous golden carriage, the assortment of bizarre art, or even Schult when she was in a particularly affectionate mood. In other words, she was utterly delighted.
“It’s just flowers. Are they really that great?” Al muttered.
“Hah! Oh, you poor ignorant soul. These are crimsons. They only bloom in one part of Lugunica—the forest with the spring in Ladrima.”
“I had no idea—wait, what? Did you just say they only bloom in that forest with the spring?”
“And only this time of year, too… You might as well say it’s the one thing that makes that little backwater noteworthy.”
She folded her arms, unintentionally lifting her ample bosom as she nodded to herself, clearly satisfied with her own reasoning.
Watching her, Al finally put the pieces together. Priscilla’s unusual eagerness to solve the village’s mystery, her strong aversion to burning down the forest—it all made sense.
The answer was right there, in the perfect smile on her face.
“Let me guess… These flowers were the reason you wanted to help that village all along?”
“Nonsense. Ladrima is in my dominion. I would never extend my mercy for that reason alone—though I won’t deny that it was why I acted immediately.”
Completely unfazed, Priscilla strode boldly toward the bouquet. If the villagers, who worshipped her as a merciful goddess, ever learned her true motives, they would undoubtedly be shocked. Naturally, there was no point in telling them. Ignorance was bliss; they were happier that way.
“And in the end, she did save them. Even if personal greed was her main motivator…”
Her desire to behold a giant bouquet of flowers had led her to save an entire village, and in doing so, she had secured their livelihood. It was a true testament to her claim that the world bent to her whims.
“Princess, where shall I take the flowers?”
“To my room for now. Decorate the entire manor with them. As long as these flowers live, their beauty shall entertain my eyes. Take good care of them so they won’t wither.”
“Understood, Princess! I shall do my very best!”
At her command, Schult eagerly hopped to action, rushing off to gather every vase he could find in the mansion. After watching him scurry away, Priscilla turned to Al.
“Al, what do you think you’re doing? If you have time to stand there looking stupid, go help Schult. Each one of these flowers is worth more than your life—don’t ever forget that.”
“…Taking it a little too far, Princess?”
She was beyond cheerful, yet still as sharp-tongued as ever. Al could only let out a bitter smile at her cutting words.
And as the red-clad woman stood before the brilliant red bouquet, Al sensed it would be dangerous to delay any longer and hurried to tend to the flowers before his cruel and merciful mistress had a chance to give him a kick in the ass.
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