Spice and Wolf - Volume 17 - Chapter 13

CONCLUSION

Lawrence’s head hurt.

Though at first he had said it as a mere what-if, he felt like he really did have a headache.

The cause was crystal clear.

It was the letters Holo had sent out.

They were addressed to Norah and Eve and others they had met on their journeys—all women.

The contents: We’re having a banquet, so come during the St. Alzeuri spring festival.

Furthermore, he had first learned of the letters when Holo handed them over, already written, saying, “I shall leave the males to you.”

At the time, he might still have been able to catch up to the traveling merchant she had handed the letters to.

But had he done that, he would have had to face Holo’s imperious wrath.

From all his experiences with Holo until now, she always had a reason when she did something like this.

Furthermore, given her cleverness, it was highly likely she had armed herself with sound, logical arguments with which to display the righteousness of her cause. The point was, at times like these, she was often already beyond the point where she could still be swayed.

All Lawrence could do was to try and figure out if he had stepped on Holo’s tail at some point, had invited Holo’s displeasure without realizing it, or she simply had a bee in her bonnet.

Regardless of the outcome of such thoughts, all he could do was pray for the grace of God.

When one considered that if there were gods here in the mountains that would hear his prayer, there were only those with dignified, large, triangular wolf ears and splendidly furred tails—like Holo.

But when Wisewolf Holo herself had a bone to pick, she was implacable.

In the end, what Lawrence could do was very limited. The letter had to have been ghostwritten by a human, and since there were not many people in the area Holo trusted to write a letter for her, all he could do was speak with the one who had.

Retracing Holo’s steps from when he had received the letter from her, Lawrence walked along the snow-covered path, heading away from the building under construction.

He had planned to complete all of the roof construction by autumn of that year, thinking he would set up enough interior decoration to make heads spin during winter and begin receiving guests once the snows melted in spring, but everything had fallen behind schedule. There apparently had been a war in the plains to the south, causing many enthusiastic traveling craftsmen to head off for the front. Also, a large trading ship belonging to his lender for the construction funds had run aground, sustaining heavy damage, and heavy snow came earlier than most years, hindering his procurement of supplies.

The last three years had taught him that he could not expect everything to go smoothly, even here at the far edges of the world of trade.

Even so, keeping the main building construction on schedule was sometimes thanks to Holo’s power and, beyond that, to the combined aid of everyone whose trust they had gained over the course of their long journey.

As a rival business was due to open in the summer, he wanted to be first if at all possible.

That was why he intended to hold a grand opening for his much-yearned-for establishment in the spring.

The plan had been to hold it a little after the festival of St. Alzeuri.

Among the acquaintances Lawrence had gained on his journey with Holo were people of status on a completely different scale than his own. Of course, he wanted to invite them all to his grand opening, but he could not very well force them to traverse snow-covered roads, for there would still be snow in the mountains during the festival of St. Alzeuri.

However, it was precisely the right time to invite those accustomed to snowy roads for a preopening celebration and those he was close to who did not dwell too great a distance away. It was in that sense, too, that Holo was well aware of the situation.

She was up to something.

Even if it was a simple prank or joke, the fees for even mere letters were hardly trivial.

The fee for Eve’s letter was no doubt the highest. She was doing business in the great empire of the south; whatever dangerous bridges had to be crossed to get there, the town councils took care of all the preliminary duties, so the location of even a merchant in elite circles could be ascertained with certainty. Norah seemed to have headed east from Ruvinheigen to work in some town as a pastor; even getting a letter there required a nontrivial amount of money. Even though Diana and Elsa did not live quite that far away, Elsa lived in a small village, so Lawrence had his suspicions a letter would safely arrive there to begin with. In Fran’s last correspondence with Lawrence, Elsa was showing her some things at her monastery, so she might still be in Elsa’s village as well.

As he thought back, they were all very interesting people, but when he pictured Holo’s letters bringing all of those women to meet in the same church at his very doorstep, Lawrence could not stop his face from going rigid.

Though his breaths brought in air cold enough that he could feel it in his lungs, the sigh he breathed out between the fingers covering his lips was a hot one.

“Gracious…What on earth is she thinking…?”

Even though he had been with her some six years, he still did not understand Holo.

They had had a big argument just earlier even.

He was not aware of there being a cause, per se, but he was well aware she was an unreasonable person.

He had the sense it was something about a tasteless meal.

He certainly understood that someone with Holo’s personality had to blow off a little steam from time to time while living in this land in the middle of winter.

And though he thought it was stupid of him, he did consider making up after arguments to be an important thing.

“Ah, Mr. Lawrence?”

When Lawrence sighed once more, brushing the snow off his head as he entered the under-construction addition, the young man laying down stone tiles lifted his head. His sudden growth spurt had made him taller than Holo; it felt like he would be taller than Lawrence, too, given another two or three years.

But as his features had been delicate since long ago, with the length of his hair tied in a tail even now, he looked every bit like a tall young woman. Col, who had been a wandering student when Lawrence had met him, waved Lawrence off with a hand, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat off his brow.

“Is it lunchtime already?”

“No, I wanted to ask you about this.”

When Lawrence hoisted the letter he had received from Holo as he spoke, Col’s face looked like he had just swallowed a fly. It seemed she really had asked Col to write the letter. There might have been only one or two other people in the entire region who could write in multiple languages with such calligraphy.

“She pretty much twisted my arm into writing it…”

“Oh, I’m not criticizing you for that. I’m sure Holo asked you because she thought you’d never refuse.”

Col’s hands were mismatched with his face, weathered from doing manual labor in summer and winter alike.

But open at Col’s feet laid manuscripts copied and borrowed from the theologians and high-ranking clergymen who visited this land; Lawrence knew he recited and memorized them as he worked. Lawrence also knew that at night, he chewed on raw onions to fend off sleepiness as he studied.

After Col had parted ways with Lawrence and Holo, he had spent about two years traveling between churches and abbeys in every land before finally coming to work under Lawrence, but this absolutely did not mean he had given up on his dream from back then of walking the path of the clergyman. Once he learned Lawrence was setting up his own establishment here, he joined right in, saying it would kill two birds with one stone.

So far, Col’s plans for discourse with intellectuals coming to this town from all over the world, difficult to meet anywhere else, had been a success. Lawrence understood from his own business dealings how Col benefited from forming connections with such esteemed company.

After all, no matter how busy such people were at home, when they came to this land, they had plenty of time to spare.

This was a secluded land deep in the mountains, well away from civilization.

It was said that this place, Nyohhira, was the only place war was unthinkable.

“More than that, I want to ask you about Holo’s state when she made you write it.”

“Miss Holo’s…?”

“Yeah. Was she angry? Did she say anything?”

Though he was socially embarrassed to ask this of Col, a fine adult but maybe half his own age, this was far from the first time the boy had mediated in an argument between him and Holo.

Sometimes when Holo was being stubborn, she entrusted words to Col that she could not bring herself to say.

For that reason, Col should have known something, but this time he made a grave face.

“That’s…”

“That’s?”

“She was smiling.”

Col said it like it was something he did not want to admit, like having seen a ghost in the mountains.

“Smiling?”

“Yes. Er, the addresses for these letters…”

“Yes. They’re to the women Holo met on our journeys. Of course, you remember Elsa, but I’m sure you remember Eve, too, yes?”

Col made a rather pained smile as he recalled Eve, who seemed more of a wolf than Holo herself. But there was no ill will present, perhaps because she had treated Col very kindly, in her own way.

“For her to write those letters and send them against your wishes, I believe you must have done something to anger her, Mr. Lawrence, but…”

It was something Col had said often over the years.

Lawrence thought it exceedingly unfortunate that he had no proof to go with anything he might say in his own defense. “Er…but she’s often smiling when she’s really angry.”

“Is that so? But I had the feeling she was genuinely smiling…I should say buoyant even…”

“Buoyant, you say?”

When Lawrence shot him a look of surprise, parroting back the words, Col tucked his chin in like a little girl, making a timid shrug of his shoulders as he nodded.

“Ah…there’s no mistaking it. She’s angry.” Lawrence put a hand to his forehead and hung his head then and there.

Where had he gone wrong?

He always kissed her cheek before rising in the morning and coming to bed at night; he never failed to compliment the fur of her tail when she was grooming. No matter how busy his other work was, he always prepared breakfast and supper at home. This left a mountain of craftsmen guarantees, thank-you letters for future cooperation, informational notes for suppliers and traders, and other secretarial work piling up on the table in his bedroom.

It should have been enough to make even Holo smile nervously and admit perhaps I am pampered a trifle too much.

But even so there was friction. There were arguments.

He could not think of any occasion whatsoever where he had courted such anger she would call over five acquaintances from long before—and all women at that.

Perhaps she was still angry about that, mused Lawrence as he lifted his head.

From the start of autumn onward, people came to Nyohhira from all over to spend the long winter partaking of its baths. Many of them were wealthy, giving rise to the necessity of arranging beautiful girls to greet them.

Several among those girls were known to give Lawrence amorous glances.

Here in this place away from civilization, customers who came to bathe were veritable fountains of gold for one’s business, and many flocked to the establishments with the prettiest girls. In a normal town, they would not pay the slightest heed to an ordinary merchant such as Lawrence.

That said, as the bathers were largely raisin-like old men or middle-aged scolds who loved to complain when boiled for too long, perhaps it was not so strange for a man such as Lawrence to enter their sights. They had been chatting, in short, about how many men there were in this place and how they ought to be ranked. Most people who worked here for five years or more had found a pretty girl to marry.

Certainly, the people who ran the bathhouses and stores all around Nyohhira were aware that Holo was with Lawrence while his establishment was under construction, but Holo had never publicly declared herself and Lawrence to be husband and wife.

At first she might have found it embarrassing, but this being Holo, a stubborn woman who rarely took back anything once she had said it, she displayed no sign of revisiting the idea even though they had lived here for three years.

There was no other way for him to interpret her highly literal interpretation of their agreement at Svolnel.

He had promised to bring Holo to Yoitsu to begin with. In point of fact, that promise remained unfulfilled.

From Nyohhira, Yoitsu was practically at the tip of her nose, and the distance was one Holo’s paws could cover as if going out for a stroll. Even so, Holo had stubbornly refused to go, becoming angry in earnest whenever the subject was raised. Perhaps she had always meant to use their agreement at Svolnel to not commit to marriage before their previous commitment had been resolved as a shield to fend the subject off.

Lawrence himself, thinking that Holo had her own reasons, had asked about it, but had not forced the issue.

But even though they had not exchanged vows in a church, he could put his chest out and say that they were as close as almost any husband and wife in this world. He knew that there were several aspects of Holo that she herself had a poor grasp of. Besides, from time to time she had Lawrence groom her tail, something she would have absolutely never let him do in times past.

Given that, perhaps it was not entirely surprising that a few women—who had no doubt left plenty of men and their partners in tears long before he had arrived—had flirted with Lawrence half in jest.

But one can put their soul into anything, in any form. If one raises up the head of a herring in prayer, even in jest, soon enough they will be doing it for real.

In other words, at first he had simply been ambushed in womanly fashion while minding his own business relaxing at a public bath, but it escalated to home cooking before long, soon followed by the sewing of clothes for him.

His multiple refusals had not discouraged the women whatsoever, nor could he completely ignore them; furthermore, when Lawrence showed them even the slightest bit of admiration, they were so happy that they sparkled like jewels, making his heart hurt.

Holo angered easily, after all. And none had intervened in favor of the awkward newcomer no matter how much it put Lawrence in a bind.

On the road, everyone was a spectator.

In the end, it was the wordless tears welling in the back of Holo’s throat at night that hardened his resolve to settle the matter.

After strenuously explaining to one after another that there would be no bride for him save Holo, he was finally able to get them to relent.

It was the same explanation he had given to everyone, but when he returned from convincing them, Holo, eyes red and tail bottlebrush puffed, grabbed Lawrence and sniffed the scents all over him.

From time to time, Holo stopped moving, and sensing why, Lawrence resigned himself to being snapped at, but in the end, Holo said nothing.

Instead, she did not speak to him for about an entire week.

After a week, when she finally did speak, the first thing out of her mouth was indeed, “Fool.”

Incidentally, the women that had wooed Lawrence could still boast great popularity as musicians at baths all over Nyohhira. The one felicity was that word spread that Lawrence was a sincerely loyal man; thanks to that, the people of Nyohhira came to trust him a good deal more.

In the time since, it felt like Holo, too, had put her various feelings about the matter behind her.

Lawrence, still in the frigid living room of the addition under construction, hung his head deeply and sighed. As his feelings and Holo herself passed by one another, he thought back to that inn at Svolnel five years before.

Holo had been beautiful, the moonlight shining on her face like a white bridal veil.

He had thought everything after that would be happily ever after, but the extent of his worries had not changed. Indeed, it had only grown.

Lawrence sighed once more, suddenly realizing that Col was standing beside him, watching with a look of concern.

“This is coming along quite well, though.”

“Ah yes. One more pass by the craftsmen, and it’ll be perfect. There are a few things I hope to iron out before they come, though.”

“That’s a big help. You’re very precise, too. Bit of a waste for the splitting image of a budding theologian.”

As Lawrence spoke, Col laughed lightly. When Col had free time, he spoke to all sorts of people, learning about the local flavor and the various visitors who came to bathe. He did not mind if he was not speaking to theologians, but to craftsmen or mercenaries instead.

These days, it was no rare thing for a former craftsman to become a great scholar.

What mattered was if one had the will to learn and earned enough money to cover daily expenses. One did not have to be an aristocrat to study.

“I think architecture and theology are very similar. Each requires a blueprint, raw materials, and a logical way of putting it all together.”

“And neither can be built in a day?”

“Quite so.” Col made a wry smile.

In Lawrence’s case, he had attained everything for setting up his establishment by spending two years negotiating with trusted comrades along his trading route and wrapping up various endeavors, spending another year traveling to many lands with Holo with an eye on where to set up shop, and another two years to construct it once he had decided this was where it would be.

And his work was far from done.

The addition had been expected to include individual rooms for the private use of affluent guests and a guest hall enabling them to have pleasant conversations without needing to worry about other boisterous guests. Here, where Col was working up a sweat laying down stone tiles, was the very place the guest hall would be.

Stone-laid aqueducts passed under the floor’s surface, bringing the warmth of the hot spring water in.

Col was not sweating just because it was manual labor; the floor really was rather warm.

“Well, you can leave it like this for now and take a bath before dinner.”

“Understood.” As Col made his reply, his gaze shifted to the letter Lawrence was holding in his hand. “Er…Ought I not to have written that?”

He was very bright but also honest. Perhaps that was why even august, bearded bishops and scholars found themselves bound by Col’s enthusiasm and zeal.

Natural talent had something to do with it, too, but even Col always faced temptation. Yet in the face of that, it was his own hard work that had brought him to this point, and he had never strayed from his path.

“It’s quite all right. Though there were a few places where turns of phrases were used improperly.”

“Er—”

“I’ll correct them in a note later.”

“Please!”

Lawrence nodded and put the addition behind him.

Lawrence was well aware that if he had anything to teach Col, he needed to do it while he still could.

Even if his business went well, he could foresee the day when he would become another old man in Nyohhira, ignorant of the wider world, being unable to imagine ever leaving his business behind. The course of human life was as natural and obvious as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. There were many more odious and reckless jobs. Had things gone differently, he might have rowed his way into the ocean of large-scale trade.

He would no doubt have made the same choice one woman in the letter, Eve, had made to go south.

Going with Eve, profiting from one dangerous deal after another, would no doubt have been an adventure worthy of the heroes in the bards’ tales.

In fact, Eve no doubt possessed enough financial power to employ a biographer to chronicle the latter half of her life, a life that in the years to come would surely leave behind a name as weighty as a thick tax ledger.

Failing that, he could also have chosen to accept the invitation to go to the Debau Company back at Svolnel, where he and Holo had first sworn to live their lives together. In the end, the exiled Hilde and his former employer Debau both returned to their seats of power; like a king and his chancellor, they were managing the company to that day.

Of late, though they were still not equal to the Ruvik Alliance, the greatest financial alliance in the whole of the world, their momentum was such that it seemed only a matter of time until the gold and silver coins bearing the mark of the sun truly did circulate throughout the entirety of the northlands.

Even now, when he thought about how he himself had fought to protect the symbol of that great currency, his excitement was such that his heart beat faster and sweat ran down to his heels.

It was not that he thought to avoid adventure. It was simply that what he carried in his arms was a weighty thing.

If one is going to go on an adventure, they need to lighten their load, and Lawrence had resolved not to cast anything aside.

As he thought about such things, Lawrence put the letter into his pocket and opened the door to the main building.

Upon doing so, the sweet fragrance of soup made with well-boiled milk wafted by.

“It will be a little longer, so wait just a moment, would you?”

When he went into the living room with the fireplace, Holo spoke while peeling the shells off roasted chestnuts.

She had not changed much since he had met her, but he felt like she had grown ever so slightly taller and seemed to be getting a bit rounder.

Or perhaps it was simply an optical illusion, with Holo growing larger only in his own heart.

“You say it as if you’re the one cooking it,” Lawrence said in exasperation, and Holo chuckled.

Her mood seemed good for the moment.

Standing in the kitchen was the woman who handled most of the housework and who was expected to work in the galley, too, once the place was up and running. Hilde had introduced her to them; her name was Hanna, but she probably was not human. Neither Holo nor the lady concerned had filled him in, but since it seemed that the two women got along better with a shared secret, he let the matter be.

Besides, a place with many travelers and vagabonds like Nyohhira was no place to pry too far into someone’s past.

When considering numerous places for where to set up his establishment, he chose Nyohhira partly because it was close to Yoitsu, but he also took that local flavor into account. The sheep incarnate Jung, who had been dealing in paintings for a long time, was of course coming under suspicion by the townspeople because he did not age; by now he had probably gone “missing” while traveling to purchase paintings he had had his eye on. And once the ruckus died down some, he would return as someone with a “close resemblance.”

Here, such methods were easy to pull off; and with similar beings close at hand, Holo would be less lonely for it, even if Lawrence should perish.

Besides, the woman Hilde had introduced as Hanna was a very skilled cook; she also had a keen eye, able to spot edible plants and herbs even on a snowy peak. She seemed more familiar with human society than Holo, so from time to time, she taught Holo sewing, embroidery, and so forth.

But for the time being at least, Holo did not tailor hats or gloves for him like loving wives did for their husbands all over the world. Holo probably enjoyed the sight of him wondering just what in the world she was working on.

“But what are you doing roasting chestnuts like this? Spring’s a little ways off yet.”

“I’m getting sick of salted meat and fish every day.”

“The first year here, you kept saying how salty things were so tasty…”

Holo ate one of the chestnuts she had peeled as she gave him a dour glare. “Too much of a good thing.”

“You should just ask Col to hunt something, then. Apparently he can use a bow now. Seems he took down a deer for Old Man Roz not long ago. If you boil the liver, I hear it’s delicious with ale chilled in the snow.”

As Lawrence spoke, Holo furrowed her brow and drew in her chin. She did not seem very fond of the idea.

It seemed that spending all day at home and eating salted meat and fish every day could put even Holo’s body under the weather.

“I have not had any appetite for that of late.”

“So roasted chestnuts?”

“They’re good when dipped in currant honey, but someone does not seem to buy very much.”

“I’m already under a mountain of debt. Once we’re making money I’ll buy as much as you like.”

Holo seemed displeased as she sighed through her nose and made a soft chestnut shell dance on top of the table.

“But…”

As Lawrence spoke, Holo, deftly cutting into and peeling away a hard shell with a knife, raised her face, glancing at him.

He’d thought to himself many times, I’ll never get tired of looking at that face, and it was truly so.

Looking back at Holo’s red-tinged amber eyes, Lawrence closed his eyelids once, averting his eyes as he spoke. “…Since you’re not feeling well, we need to think a little about what goes on the menu.”

As the hard shell split with an audible snap and the contents fell onto the table, Holo made a bitter smile as she peeled the soft shell off.

“The food you make when I’m ill is only ever distasteful.”

“But it works, doesn’t it?”

“It makes a person think that eating it cannot be borne forever. In that sense, it works very well.” She tossed yet another shelled chestnut into a basket.

As Holo always spoke in this fashion, Lawrence let it roll off and went toward the bedroom. It was not him, but Holo, who finished the thought.

“But if not for that, one would want to be a patient forever.”

Her head was tilted slightly with upturned eyes. When Holo was in ill health, Lawrence would pour all his body and spirit into nursing her. Part of him wanted to nurse Holo because it was the only time she would meekly go along with being pampered.

During the lonely autumn season wedged between the twilight of summer and the start of winter, sometimes Holo clearly faked being ill.

At such times, he would pretend not to notice and nurse her anyway.

It was easy to tell when she was faking being ill, because she would invariably say “thank you” at the end.

“Shall I merely nurse you, then?”

When Lawrence asked, Holo chuckled without replying and returned to peeling chestnut shells. “Thank you,” she finally said to Lawrence’s back as he left the sitting room.

In the end, several days passed without him being able to ask and confirm the true purpose behind Holo’s letter.

He had thought of holding a banquet for those they were close to in advance of the grand opening for some time, after all; questioning Holo for the need for one would have made strange conversation.

Besides, if he asked, she would turn to him with the same smiling face as always and say, “True purpose? It’s to call friends of ours over, is it not?” Once she did, he would be unable to say anything back.

That day, the people who operated bathhouses and stores in the Nyohhira area were holding a council to set common prices for fuel, mainly kindling, yet Lawrence had not been able to pull his mind away from the matter.

But as a newcomer who had not even opened his establishment yet, it was a conversation he could not miss.

Thanks to the suspension of large expeditions here in the north in recent years, the price of fuel had fallen, but this winter’s snows had come unexpectedly early, and heavily, too, which had led to a few quarrels.

The land known as Nyohhira constituted a central town through which passed a road many travelers made use of, along with tiny nearby hamlets in the surrounding mountains, which were linked by narrow roads.

The central town contained public paths used by travelers and the less affluent seasonal guests. All those with an abundance of time and money stayed at a specific inn, and each of those inns managed its own bath.

The richer the person, the farther from civilization he wanted to bathe. The owners of bathhouses frequented by archbishops and nobility always stressed that they were late for councils because their bathhouses were in such remote locations.

The owner of one such establishment glanced at Lawrence out of the blue and waved a hand.

“Concerning the rationing of kindling, Mr. Lawrence, don’t you have too much as it is? You’ve been buying lumber from me since autumn rolled around.”

The eyes of all those at the long table fell upon Lawrence.

In Nyohhira, anyone who discovered a hot spring essentially had the right to open a business there, so those who had done so were crafty and willing to accept risk.

The glares from a group of such men had quite a bit of force to them.

But none of them were as imposing as the least of the Myuri mercenaries, let alone Eve. They did not hold a candle to Holo on a rampage in wolf form. These business owners had a bone to pick with Lawrence because he, having already discovered a hot spring in a remote area where finding one was said to not be possible, made them nervous.

This had been a recurring scene since he had begun constructing his establishment, so Lawrence was quite calm as he replied, “Are you saying I should turn the lumber I bought for construction into kindling? If I was making as much as Master Morris, I might be able to do that, but…”

As Lawrence spoke, a number of people traded smiles and whispered among one another.

At the beginning of autumn, Morris’s bathhouse had suffered a fire, the thing one had to avoid most here in the mountains.

Fortunately, at the time the fire was quickly extinguished, but Lawrence’s words made the face of Morris, standing right before him, turn as bright as any flame. And just as he seemed about to say something, anything, so long as it was shouted, the chairman of the council interrupted.

“The amount of lumber Mr. Lawrence purchased was approved by this council. Following precedent, the rationing of kindling is an unrelated matter. Any questions?”

The chairman was not the only one fed up with Morris’s stubbornness. There were a number of people cool to Lawrence because they preferred to have less competition, but Morris’s unsightly ways had largely swung the group to Lawrence’s favor.

This was also a result of Morris’s attitude that only a man of high status could get customers.

That being the case, it was best to get under his skin just a little.

The secret to group relations was if one gave in at the start, they yielded for all time. A display of humility was more than enough for people to look down upon you. This was something Holo’s acerbic tongue had taught him well.

“Then, I think we should agree to ration kindling in proportion to the rise of its purchasing cost.”

At this time of year, with winter soon to end, with old guests about to leave and few new guests in the offing, it was just the right time for these people to drink some wine and have a relaxing nap as soon as the council concluded.

Nearly all the members raised their right hands in agreement with the chairman; even the ever-complaining Morris reluctantly raised his right hand in the end.

“Very well. The council is adjourned.”

The chairman wrapped things up, and everyone rose from their seats and left the room.

Morris seemed to be aware of the glares in his direction, but Lawrence was entirely unconcerned.

Rather, he realized that he must pose a proportionally dire threat to the man’s bottom line.

At that moment, Lawrence’s establishment was in the running for the first- or second-most remote location in all Nyohhira. Furthermore, he had located a hot spring inside a cave, the sort popular with bathers above all others. Together with Col giving high-ranking clergymen and intellectuals such a warm welcome, the opening of his establishment was seen as a certain success. Lawrence himself thought as much.

If Morris’s position had grown so weak, Lawrence wondered if he ought to borrow more money and buy the man’s establishment outright.

As Lawrence entertained the thought while walking near the public square, he was suddenly struck by a snowball.

Standing in front of the Rogers Company building, founded by expatriates from the Kingdom of Winfiel across the far-off ocean, was not a child playing a prank, but Holo.

“You must be thinking something bad. I can tell from your face.” She smirked at him as she sat on a wooden fence. The business owners just leaving the public assembly stared at Holo; it was rare for her to come down to town like this.

“You do understand that I’m not going to go out on a journey while I’m building something like that, don’t you?”

There were times when Holo turned to the horse that Lawrence had traveled with during his days as a traveling merchant, strictly commanding that should Lawrence look about to set off on a journey, it must utterly refuse to cooperate.

Lawrence thought she probably allowed him to see her doing it on purpose, but he did not really think it was a joke. After all, ever since, he had been unable to mount it, even just to move it a short distance.

“Journeys are not the only adventures.” As Holo spoke, she swayed her body within the extravagant pelt coat, heavily decorated with fur at the edges; the Debau Company had sent it when they learned this was where he would set up his business.

Goodness, Lawrence thought to himself, but it was true that buying Morris out would create no small disturbance. “You’re in no mood for an adventure?”

As Lawrence spoke, Holo casually let out a white breath, making a smile rich in meaning. “Let us just say my hands are full at the moment.”

Lawrence sighed, shrugged his shoulders, and took Holo’s hand.

He had had no idea what Holo had gone outside for without gloves on, but it seemed to be so that she could thrust her hand into Lawrence’s glove.

It was, of course, rather odd for there to be two hands in one glove.

“People will laugh when they see.”

“Let them laugh. It only means they are jealous.”

Holo spoke casually as she marched over the snow. She thrust her remaining hand into her coat, looking like the perfect maiden.

“What did you come all the way down here for, though? I said I’d be back early today, didn’t I?”

There were times when her nose twitching was an indicator she was about to start crying.

Today, though, she seemed to be just sniffing the springs out for the moment. Lawrence could not tell whatsoever, but apparently hot baths had subtle differences in smell depending on the place.

Since she could also tell the size and temperature of the spring, a severe problem for many—unearthing a new hot spring in the area for setting up an establishment—was no more difficult for her than twisting a baby’s arm.

Searching at night a bit in her wolf form, it had taken her but two days to find one.

Lawrence’s only expenses were honey-preserved fruit and occasionally lending out the spring to the deer and bears whose territory encompassed this area.

It was not difficult work, for though the hot spring was in a cave, Holo’s ears, able to discern even the purity of a silver coin, searched for sounds of water, and she was easily able to remove boulders that seemed unmovable by human means.

There were old stories that if one trapped a fairy in a bottle and fed it a sweet, it would lead a person all the way to a vein of gold. This was not far from that, though unlike the stories, if one opened the lid of this bottle, the fairy would not run off.

As the two walked through Nyohhira’s central town without a word between them, Lawrence stole glances at the side of Holo’s face, as if confirming his good fortune.

“Hanna went to pluck some herbs.” Holo looked in another direction as she spoke.

Her gaze led to a public bath where mercenaries, travelers, and hunters from nearby, who had come in to sell the meat and pelts from the game they had felled, were drinking and relaxing together. There was also sunny music being played as an apparent competition unfolded, with men, still buck naked from their time in the bath, boasting to one another about their scars.

As Holo was staring at them with very little restraint, several men raised both hands and cried out something or other to her as they noticed.

Holo, quite fond of pranks, turned her face away like a bashful maiden, chuckling as she listened to the men’s boisterous cheer.

“So?”

When Lawrence made an exasperated laugh and prompted her, Holo turned back to the men once more and made a small wave of her hand. “Aye. After you left, someone called for the lad and he went out, too.”

“So you got lonely?”

Even though she was stubborn in odd places, she was oddly pleased as he posed his question.

As if no longer paying one shred of attention to the noisy men of the bathhouse, she clung to Lawrence’s arm and swayed her tail about. “I procured wine as well.”

The way she said it was rich with meaning, but as Lawrence looked down at Holo, he sighed again. Lately he felt like he was getting older; no doubt that was because the number of his sighs had increased.

“No doubt that’s what you were really after.”

“Heh-heh.” Holo curled her lips as she smiled.

As Lawrence lightly looked around the area, he embraced Holo tightly, as if her feet were floating up to the heavens, and walked forward once more.

Afterward, he sent for a sleigh to take them out of town, and they returned home together.

It went without her saying—of course she had procured wine.

As Lawrence peeked into the kitchen, there was already a platter of pork sausages and cured meat.

As Hanna was a very frugal person who would have never dreamt of such things, Holo had no doubt twisted her arm into making it.

“Honestly…” As he ate one slice of the thickly sliced pork sausage, Lawrence took a plate out of a nearby cabinet and put sweet, dried fruit on it, carrying it along with pitchers for both wine and mead.

Once it felt like he had enjoyed alcohol in proportion to its volume, but he had taken a liking to sweet things like mead of late. Sweet alcohol was not something a person gulped down in order to get drunk. He was glad it meant one needed fewer snacks.

But perhaps because he had let his guard down like that, his girth had grown larger of late, which Holo had pointed out to him. Though that put him one step closer to being a portly town shopkeeper, he had to smile wryly at how his journeys were finally over.

“Huh?” As Lawrence left the building and headed out down the road, there was a large brown bear sitting there. It had a scar on its right shoulder inflicted by a hunter; it seemed to specialize in finding bee hives. This year it had apparently failed to hibernate and appeared at the hot springs here and there. Its fur was all drenched, steam rising from it, as if it had emerged from a hot spring just a moment before.

“Did Holo chase you off?”

As Lawrence asked, it regarded him out of the corner of its eye, slumping down at a bend in the road.

Though he had at first been fearful, now that he knew he could speak to it through Holo, it differed little from a mercenary of few words.

Handing off two slices of sausage as he passed by, he arrived at the bath.

“Hmm…”

Holo, in her giant wolf form, was sprawled over the little island in the center of the large bath. Holo only allowed other beasts to share the same bath when she was in a foul mood—put another way, only when Lawrence was not there to join her.

When she evicted all interlopers and sprawled herself over the island like a king holding court, it was proof she was in a rather good mood indeed.

When she wanted to be alone or was sulking and so forth, she would go to a corner of the bath in human form, offering little clue as to where she was. The point being, she wanted more attention, she wanted the company—or the like. Even with Lawrence’s arrival, Holo did not open her eyes; only her large, well-steamed tail moved, swaying around in the bath.

Even without guests, they had to ensure that the baths were not leaking or otherwise in poor shape, so they had been using the baths practically every day this winter. Holo was overjoyed to immerse herself day after day, but she had become quite sick of bathing by herself. Col might have entered alone more than she had; often whatever what was on one’s mind came to a boil when in a bath.

Once Lawrence set the food and drink down in the usual spot, he took a good look around the bath.

Since a variety of beasts often bathed here—a sight that would shock or enliven the hearts of hunters if they could only see it—it was possible something might be damaged. As he had made a point of strictly telling Holo to fix anything that might be broken, he had seen bears, deer, and rabbits fixing the stone arrangement more than once.

It was something right out of a fairy tale, he thought, drifting off as he recalled the scenes.

At any rate, there were no problems at the moment. The ducts that led to the bath were the same as always. Leave it to Holo to use her nose to find a bath by means literally beyond human facility. Though the elevation was higher than that of other bathhouses, the water volume and temperature were first-rate.

“It’s not too hot?”

Even though Lawrence asked in a loud voice, Holo’s tail merely continued to sway back and forth at the same speed. Meaning, it was fine.

From there, Lawrence inspected the ducts drawing in drinking water all around the area. It was believed that drinking hot spring water so rich in minerals that one could feel them on their teeth worked against all illnesses. Lawrence had found the claim highly dubious since being stricken by diarrhea the first day he had drank the water, but as the water tester he had to put up with it.

But today, too, the rough matting laid around to keep refuse from getting into the bath was in bad shape. The hot spring minerals stuck to it, plugging the gaps. Col had pondered the matter as well, but there was not any good solution to it. As other bathhouses used manpower to bring potable water in, he wanted to stand out somehow with a water fountain or something like that.

For the time being, I’ll have to skip bathing and clean all this, he thought, making another sigh as he rose up. “I’ll have to give it a sweep.”

As he looked up at the sky, judging from the very hazy color, a change in wind direction would no doubt bring considerable snowfall. While falling snow getting into the bath was not a bad thing, being cold on the way back up to the main building was an inconvenience.

He racked his mind trying to think of a way to improve things, but no good plan came to mind.

As he did so, Holo, on the small island, raised her head and spoke. “Your head fills itself with bad thoughts.”

“You want to eat honey-preserved currants, right? I need to make some money, then.”

“I can get both honey and currants with my own paws.”

“Not that you’ve ever done it. Why not learn from Miss Hanna?”

Instead of rebutting, Holo bared her fangs at him in a wordless laugh, making a large splash with her tail that made the bathwater churn.

“There are things one cannot grasp no matter how hard one tries.”

Then she rose up, making a growl as she stretched her back.

“For example?”

“For example?” Holo parroted back before making a great sway of her head to the side, plunging into the bath.

She immersed herself without restraint, her entire body diving into the hot water.

As the depth was, of course, not very great, the face that popped out was that of a person.

“For example, a rainbow.” She’d probably heard the words from some poet. There were many of such people in Nyohhira.

“Would you stop diving in like that? You’ll mess up the stone arrangement.”

“If they come apart that easily, arrange them more solidly next time.”

On their journeys, whenever they found a spring during the summertime, Holo would adopt wolf form and plunge in. It was only since coming to Nyohhira that he learned Holo had done her share of swimming before, but not in human form.

Just then, too, Holo swam earnestly for a while, eventually giving that up and walking as far as the edge.

“Like certain friends of ours.” Immersed in hot water up to her hips, Holo raised her drenched hair up, speaking as she gave him a defiant smile.

“Fool.” As Lawrence mimicked Holo’s manner of speech, Holo made a small chuckle as she smiled, then made a small sneeze. “Soak yourself to the shoulders already. Wine for you?”

“Aye.”

Hearing her reply, he took hold of the cord around the neck of the pitcher when she said, “On second thought, I shall have mead, the same as you.”

She really did seem to be in a good mood.

As Lawrence moved to pour the drink into a pair of wooden cups, Holo checked him with a hand. One cup was fine, in other words.

“After all, that drink could be even sweeter.”

So Holo spoke while having a sip. That mead was sweet enough that serious connoisseurs would even say it did not count as proper alcohol. Amazed, Lawrence stripped off his clothes and immersed himself in the hot water, accepting the cup from her.

“You’re too extreme in your tastes.”

“Ohh? But if it wasn’t for this, I could hardly spend time with a fool like you.”

As he heard the words, he raised his face to the sky as he handed the cup back. “Goodness…but, I have to do something about these cups…”

“Mm?”

“The cups. Wooden cups are convenient, but…”

“They’re not good enough?”

“They’re cheap, no two ways about it. Silver cups are the top class, but…”

At the Morris bathhouse, which received numerous top-class guests, the owner made a great show of using actual silver utensils. If Lawrence tried to use silver utensils in a place like this, they would turn black in an instant. He would need to soak them in oil when not in use and kill himself polishing them before and after each use.

Though steel, tin, and bronze did not require so much labor, they all came off as cheap. Brass was an option, but it was difficult to obtain.

That left rustic earthenware and uncracked, cheap wooden utensils as the only candidates.

“I would think it of little import to one who cares only about what’s inside, like you do.”

As Holo took the cup back once more, she drank as she spun Lawrence’s words into yarn.

“Well, that’s why you picked me, isn’t it?”

“…Ha!”

Holo snorted a blunt laugh as she brought a slice of pork sausage to her lips.

“Well, ’tis pointless just thinking about it, I think.”

“Ah?”

“Are the guests you invite here really so meager as to pay attention only to material things?”

A smile that somehow smelled of victory came over Holo as she gazed squarely at Lawrence.

Those were the eyes of a young man about to set off on an adventure. Such eyes did not doubt their own judgment whatsoever, full of faith that the future waiting for them held only radiance.

Holo came to Lawrence’s side.

If that was so, those eyes were looking at the future Lawrence should be seeing.

“I suppose not,” Lawrence said with a plain, self-derisive smile.

“Besides, I think ’tis meals that are more important. That fellow who you get along with poorly, what’s his name…”

“Morris?”

“Aye. That’s the one. The meals you get there are, ah, second-rate.”

Sometimes Holo knew things that really made him wonder how she knew them.

Had someone invited her there and shared a meal with her…?

“I know because I heard from the birds and foxes that fish through their trash. Right now, the best is the one under the sign with the two oaks.”

“Jeck’s place, eh…? That place is certainly thriving, though its facilities are fairly poor…”

“I think the meals are the secret.”

Since they were all places where everyone stripped bare, bathhouses were more secretive than other establishments in town. While Lawrence’s thoughts crept along in his own fashion, Holo’s presence was strongly felt as his right-hand man, so to speak. One might think this was to be expected of one who was sometimes—though largely against her wishes—called a god.

“So then, you.”

“Yeah?”

“Could you not arrange a great and fine banquet for the saint’s festival?”

Holo wrapped both arms around Lawrence’s neck and grinned as she spoke. Perhaps it was the minerals of the hot spring at work, but the sensation he felt when they touched each other, naked like this, never failed to startle him.

The hot spring flush on Holo’s cheeks was all the more conspicuous against her white skin.

“A-aye…”

But at this stage, it was not Holo’s provocative behavior that made Lawrence stammer.

“Why so hesitant? Anyway, you had better prepare things properly. It has to be magnificent. You understand, do you not?”

Without taking much effort to stretch her neck, Holo was right at the range where her fangs could reach Lawrence’s throat at any moment. As Holo started at him, making a hmm sound all the while, Lawrence came to feel rather nervous.

He had never imagined Holo would be the one to bring up that subject—calling over five old female acquaintances and arbitrarily deciding they would hold a banquet.

As Lawrence’s vision swam, with a splash, Holo snuggled all against Lawrence’s body.

Lawrence did not even have time to think, Oh no, when Holo spoke.

“In these matters, first impressions are very important. If you surprise them at the start, the fish tales later will be even bigger. I’ve used this technique for a very long time. Once you overwhelm your opponent, they’ll rarely defy you even if you let up later, you see.”

Even though she had the body of a maiden, this was hardly the first time she spoke with overinflated pride.

Besides, at the very least, it was fair to say that Lawrence occupying the position in Nyohhira that he now did was largely due to Holo’s suggestions. Given that, he should have just quietly enjoyed himself, but the issue kept tugging at Lawrence’s mind regardless.

Namely, what was Holo really after with this banquet?

“Now hold on, Holo.”

“Mm?”

Even as he thought asking might be lifting the lid of a cauldron full of hellish things, he had to ask. There was no way she had a normal, lucid reason behind this.

If she was angry, she should have just said so. Being surrounded by wolves on the open plain was far preferable to hearing rustle after rustle from the shadows of trees in a dark forest.

Lawrence swallowed down.

And the very moment he said, “Now, Holo…,” to ascertain her true intentions…

“What do you suppose you’re doing!?” As Holo suddenly made an angry shout, he heard cries of birds and sounds of beasts running away the next moment.

When Lawrence looked, he saw a bird taking flight and the tail of a fox vanishing in a grove of trees, both having tried to take a bite of their snacks.

She was magnificently adult when she was chasing off beasts. No matter how much she might deny it, she behaved very much like one accustomed to standing above commoners.

Actually, Lawrence, too, found himself under her rump, her tail spread all over him.

“Goodness…” As Holo sighed, her face went back to her usual good mood in no time at all. “I must be strict in telling my guests not to misbehave. The damage would not be trivial, would it?”

It was just as she said. As it was humans that had forced their way into the mountains to live there, they of course came under attack by those who had dwelled in the forests and mountains for far longer. Were it not for Holo, he would have to hire people at considerable expense just to drive away beasts.

“Indeed. Ah, now then, you…”

“Hm?”

“What was it? Weren’t you going to ask me something?”

Holo looked down at Lawrence with a smiling face as she asked.

But at this stage, Lawrence had no courage left in him to wave about.

“No, it’s nothing…”

“Mm? Well, that’s how it is. ’Twill be fun, will it not?” Immersing herself up to the shoulders, Holo snuggled against him as she spoke.

Those words—“’Twill be fun…?”—seemed entirely too meaningful. Lawrence soaked himself to his lips, making bubbling sounds as he closed his eyes.

Having been told to take care of the men, he had written letters of invitation to those who had attended the opening of his business and, separately, those he was friends with. Having said that, he had no acquaintances from long before anywhere in Nyohhira; there were not many people who he socialized with outside of business.

Holo had sent a letter to Eve without a shred of restraint, but if all those women did come, he had to gather a certain number of men to keep up appearances.

At any rate, Lawrence wrote to all the people he could think of.

Hilde of the Debau Company, Le Roi the book merchant, the Myuri Mercenary Company led by Luward, Hugues the art dealer, Kieman of the Rowan Trade Guild, Huskins the shepherd, and—though it was a reach—he thought of Mark, who had opened a shop in the same town Diana lived in. While writing to Amati, Lawrence could not help his hand stopping. Among all those who had been taken in by Holo’s beauty and charm, no others had the stature to plainly convey those feelings to Holo. By that measure, he had been Lawrence’s greatest rival during their journey.

Lawrence made a prayer to God and struck the name from his list.

Stretching his mind to the limits, there was Jakob, the guild hall master of Ruvinheigen; and the money changer Weiz near the village he had first met Holo; and Marlheit, who had taken care of him during the time he seized back Holo following her abduction.

But none of them struck him as people he could call for whatever this event was, and more of them were of the sort he would be inclined to invite to a proper shop-opening banquet.

“Still…”

With that, Lawrence, in front of his bedroom desk, made a light sigh as he looked over the tablet he had written the names on.

Merely remembering their names showed just how many people he had become involved with.

Furthermore, at each and every one of their towns that he had visited were incidents that became crucial turning points for the course of his life. If a single one of them had been absent from those places, events would surely not have unfolded as they had. Each had played a decisive, irreplaceable role in Lawrence and Holo having slipped out of those predicaments.

From time to time, he had labored under the illusion that he traveled under his own power, or his and that of Holo. However, looking at what he had written, he viscerally realized he had traversed a frighteningly narrow tightrope on the way to becoming the man he now was.

Lawrence prayed once more before the stone tablet, willing his thanks to God that he had met all of them.

And bit by bit, Lawrence’s face changed into something pained.

When he opened his eyes, there before him were the names of the people important to him.

“Now, who to invite, huh…?”

There were many who would no doubt gladly respond to an invitation, but they had everyday lives of their own. Furthermore, Nyohhira was practically at the edge of the known world.

Even the fees for the letters alone were practical concerns that could not be scoffed at. There was nothing guaranteeing people happily setting off on a journey in response would not become wrapped up in some accident or incident along the way.

That said, there might well be people he was on good terms with who would hold a grudge later if he did not invite them.

In this world, only rumors traveled thousands of miles. When people opened up an establishment, they seemed to invite only their inner circle of friends to the opening banquets. People would ask, “Weren’t you invited?” And so forth.

It was a depressing thought.

“If only Holo just went and picked them all up…”

Lawrence muttered to himself as he anguished in front of the tablet.

In the end, after agonizing for two nights straight, he sent a bundle of letters to those who could take three months from their work without particular harm; those who would be enraged at not being invited even should they befall disaster en route; and those, like Huskins and Marlheit, who would surely reply that they would come no matter what.

From there, Lawrence switched from matters of the head to those of the stomach. He did not think Eve would really come, but since Lawrence had invited people, too, he had to put on a banquet to make their head spin, just as Holo had urged.

Fortunately, he had funds he could call on.

His journey with Holo had truly had many ups and downs. It was oddly linked to people that lived in this world that Lawrence would prefer never having to meet again for the rest of his life. A major slave trader had, like a Grim Reaper, told Lawrence to invite him to celebrate the opening of his new establishment. Furthermore, he had said he would be happy to lend Lawrence money anytime he might be in distress. Even in Nyohhira, a place of many people with checkered pasts, there surely were not many people who would accept a letter from that source.

At the Debau Company, not only Hilde, but also Debau himself had met him a number of times to thank him.

They had told him that they would take care of him anytime he wanted to open an establishment, lending as much as he might need. He was truly grateful, but he simply could not leave everything to the Debau Company; he politely declined and borrowed funds from the Rowen Trade Guild via Huskins the great ram. Though Kieman’s personal company trading ship had been shipwrecked, making Lawrence think he might bow his head before even the Debau Company to hide his embarrassment, he somehow came through. He apparently viewed owing a favor to the irresistible force that was the Debau Company as a last resort.

Besides, Lawrence himself had assets accumulated in the course of his travels and business dealings.

He was mindful that his coin purse was not as full as it might have been in the past.

As most of it was borrowed money, it did not even seem real.

Under such circumstances, even if the money weighed upon him a bit, he did not really need to be stingy; in particular, since people naturally flocked to the baths for long periods in anticipation of the festival.

Just as Holo had said, if he drew people to the merits of his establishment here, some among the bathers would surely consider his bathhouse the next time they visited.

That was why he had ordered first-rate food and drink, but unfortunately Lawrence possessed little passion for dining himself. No matter how well-informed he was about the price of food, he was ill versed in whether a dish was good or not.

“That being the case, if there’s something you want to eat, please say it.”

So Lawrence went to Holo to inquire after jotting down basic banquet dishes.

Today, too, she and Hanna were cracking and eating walnuts they had gotten from God only knew where.

“Anything is fine.”

She had a serious look in her eyes he had not seen in several days.

In response to Holo’s words, Lawrence hardened his resolve and nodded.

“Truly?”

Hanna shifted her gaze to him as he prompted for confirmation. She always said, “It’s better to be very certain before you leap.”

Usually she was standing in the kitchen; sometimes she ate with Holo, sometimes she was absent, always striving to be frugal—that was Hanna for you. No matter what kind of remote place she was in, Holo always seemed to know how to get good food to eat.

Furthermore, Holo’s knowledge of food had prospered ridiculously well while traveling with Lawrence.

It was his own fault Holo was able to cajole him into loosening his purse strings, but Lawrence made a single deep breath, nodding.

“Right. Could you write what you want on this?”

And Lawrence brought forth not a tablet, but paper.

If she was to write down the likes of honey-pickled peaches on this, she would have to take back the earlier words she had so carelessly tossed out.

Showing that she would do nothing so underhanded would be, for her, a profound display of resolve.

As if noticing that very thing, Holo looked at the paper and pen Lawrence offered her. She looked up at Lawrence himself with what felt like a bit of a strained smile.

“I am not so much of a fool as that.”

Holo spoke as she took the pen and paper from Lawrence’s hand.

“After all, if you bite down on your prey till it perishes, you cannot play with it later.”

Though that made her a cat toying with a mouse, speaking the joke surely meant she would grant him mercy.

Lawrence was optimistic, but Hanna made a sigh as she spoke.

“Will you still be able to pay my salary, I wonder?”

Her line came as Holo held the paper before her, her tail merrily swishing around.

Though Lawrence thought inside his head that he would regret this, he shook the notion off with a shake of his head.

Hanna looked at Lawrence and made an exasperated-looking smile.

“If things turn desperate, I shall claim my salary in food.”

“Sounds like a fine plan.”

As Lawrence spoke, Holo shouted, “Ink!” and Hanna rose from her chair to go and get some.

The list contained wine, beer, apple wine, mead, the drink called Kvass made from boiling rye, wine distilled into “fire water,” distilled wheat-based liquor called “the water of life,” and besides that, even kumis made with fermented mare’s milk; God only knew where she had learned of it. There were people and goods that came in from a far eastern nation of steppes and grasslands to Nyohhira via the northlands; she had probably heard of it that way.

The meat was even more incredible. Mutton, lamb, beef, bullock, hare, pork, chicken, domesticated goose, wild goose, and after those entries, she had listed the most expensive of all meats, namely quail, peacock, and so forth.

“Where am I going to buy peacock…?”

A great theologian had supposedly proven that peacock meat did not rot. Even kings sitting on their thrones did not partake of it often; many commoners probably had no idea it even existed.

But beside the entry for peacock was written “if possible,” so she probably meant it as a joke.

She had surely been tempted to write that beside the entry for quail as well; that was probably what she was really after.

The fish were comparatively tame: pike, carp, eel, and so forth, all centered on river fish.

Small doubt she wanted these because everything from the sea had to be smoked or salted, and she was entirely sick of eating smoked and salted things during the winter months. Maybe I should mix some herring in and play dumb, he thought mischievously.

And finally, the last was “fish tail.” No doubt this was the rodent prepared on the riverbank she had eaten in Lenos. He could order that relatively cheaply.

The next part of the list contained fruit.

“Thanks to the season, this one’s relatively easy to do, but…”

Lawrence made a sigh as he looked the list over.

“Where did she learn about oranges and lemons?”

He had heard only rumors that ports to the south traded in them when giant trading ships unloaded their cargo. Apparently they were shipped from somewhere close to the desert, but Lawrence had never seen it firsthand.

Figs, raspberries, huckleberries, currants, peaches, apples, pears—these he could get if they were dried and pickled. The rest of the list was filled by a bunch of shellfish, chestnuts, and miscellaneous types of beans.

At that point, she was probably writing down anything else that came to mind.

He showed Hanna the list and struck off the things even Hanna could not prepare.

She said, “You can do basically anything if you’re cooking meat.

“For example, roast pig.”

He added that to the list.

He had seen Holo beg to be able to eat roast pig more than once. Usually she directed her begging for food toward Hanna, but she had begged Lawrence for roast pig, too.

Furthermore, when she went, “You have not forgotten the taste of the roast pig you and I ate back then,” he had no real leg to stand on.

He was not going to deny Holo now.

Roast pig here in Nyohhira? Lawrence thought, hanging his head. With salt-pickled meat the foundation of the market, he wondered just how much it would cost.

But having resolved to do it, he would carry it through.

Besides that, if he was going to spend this much on food, he of course needed music.

“Eh? Miss Annie?” When Lawrence called Col over to discuss it with him, Col of course parroted his words back in surprise.

“I mean, it’s been so long and it neatly solves that problem…”

She was the musician who had tried to woo Lawrence. However, her skill really was first-rate, and moreover, he was afraid of what would happen if he invited any other.

“So could I have you ask her for me?”

“…”

Col, who still had a book open that he had borrowed from someone who had come to the baths, made a disagreeable face, but he yielded in the end. The women musicians were always calling out to Col, too.

He had never once wavered in the slightest from his resolve to become a man of the cloth, but this aloofness sent the girls’ hearts aflutter all the more. Lawrence said to him that God might overlook a minor indiscretion or two, but Col being Col, his stubbornness turned what other men would consider good fortune into what seemed to be an improbable source of concern.

“Also, what’s happening with the craftsmen arrangements?”

During winter, craftsmen looked for work where there was no snow, and when a certain amount of snow did fall, they came north. He wanted to open his establishment in spring so badly because of all the people gathered around.

“Based on the letter I received yesterday, there’s nothing else left to do. They’ll arrive in a few days’ time, so I think we should get ready for them.”

“Understood. Besides that, ah yes, we’ll need bedding and so on for the guests…Is Eve really going to come? If she really does, we can’t be having her sleep on a bed of straw, can we…?”

At home, a merchant of Eve’s caliber no doubt slept atop silks filled with cotton on a wood-frame bed sitting atop a stone foundation. Norah could probably handle sleeping on the floor if only she had a blanket, but it was not something he would actually care to propose to her. It was not the way to treat guests invited to a banquet to say the least.

“How about going to Mr. Morris and borrowing some things?”

“Ugh.”

Certainly, he was short on guests and so had bedding to spare. That plan was especially attractive.

“I’ll think about it…”

“Besides that, how will you pick them up? If it’s by carriage, we should make arrangements as early as possible, but we don’t really know when they will arrive…”

“Ah! That’s right!”

He had forgotten about that. One could use a carriage on the road that continued to Nyohhira, but coming with assumptions from the south would not work very well. For that reason it was better for them to go to a comparatively large town like Svolnel and prepare specifically for the mountains in winter.

If a carriage was not arranged, they would have to hire someone to ship the goods…and walk.

One way or another, he needed to get in touch with them somewhere.

“If we’re considering escorts, too, how about we ask Mr. Luward and his men? You’re probably inviting them anyway?”

Lawrence was cradling his head when he suddenly lifted his face up.

“We can do that.”

“I’ll add an attachment to your invitation letter, then. Perhaps we can manage to send a letter to Lenos to Miss Eve and the others? Miss Eve is surely accustomed to traveling, so she’ll probably gather information and make preparations there.”

That was Col for you, both intelligent and well accustomed to travel.

He had already become completely dependent on Col; the boy was less of an apprentice than someone he could not help but think about convincing to stay on in order to keep the business running.

“I’ll entrust all those things to you.”

“Understood.” Col respectfully bowed his head as he spoke.

He would leave the spring banquet in Col’s hands; he had to deal with the more immediate issue of the craftsmen.

Having righted his thoughts, Lawrence went down to the central town amid lightly falling snow to make various preparations.

Things instantly got much livelier with the arrival of the craftsmen.

Usually, it was just Lawrence, Holo, Col, and Hanna—four people in a building designed for the lodging of numerous people, making it feel rather empty.

Besides, even though Holo was highly territorial, she was unexpectedly accommodating of guests. When they had settled on going ahead with a bathhouse, she had said with interest, “I do not mind it being lively.”

But with winter having crested, with spring seemingly just on the other side of the hills, Holo withdrew from the ruckus they were raising every night.

Out of not feeling well, she spent many daylight hours shut in her own room; she did not seem to have any appetite, either.

She claimed it was from living this deep in the mountains during such a season and being forced to eat mostly dried meat and fish every day. When people spoke of spring sickness, they usually meant colds going around; people recovered right around when vivacious, fresh plants sprung up. Even the council had numerous absences; some people lost a fair bit of weight from loss of appetite. Seeing these things, Lawrence thought it mysterious that no one questioned the effectiveness of the baths, which were said to cure everything. Perhaps spring sickness was in the same category as lovesickness.

For his part, Lawrence had told Hanna to wash as much of the salt off as she could when preparing meals, even at the cost of less taste, but Holo seemed unable to endure that.

She had probably eaten too much along with the lively craftsmen at times, too.

For a while, even when Lawrence brought her gruel, all she seemed to do was take the scent in. In the end, though wheat gruel was no good, rye bread boiled in goat’s milk went down fine, so she was currently eating small amounts of that. She was holding up pretty well given that she could not even drink wine.

Even though this was spring sickness, Lawrence was fairly worried at times, but Hanna told him there was no reason for special concern. As she seemed to be well versed in illnesses, Holo evidently trusted Hanna quite extensively; even if she could pull the wool over Lawrence’s eyes, she got nowhere with Hanna.

As he nursed Holo and gave instructions to the craftsmen, more and more days passed as he prepared for the spring banquet.

When a little more time passed, around when sunny days began to outnumber days when snow fell, a letter reached Lawrence. It had come to Svolnel, written by Eve’s hand. As Col had suggested, he had written a letter and sent it to Lenos, but that seemed to have been in error.

Even so, just as he had surmised, for her to have properly sent a letter ahead of her from Svolnel, she had not lost her knack for travel.

If she came from Svolnel, she would arrive before the festival of St. Alzeuri, but preparations for food and other things would still be steadily under way. That was why Lawrence replied that she would make it just in time if she took it easy on the way up. He also wrote that he was surprised she would really come.

She would probably make a strained smile and say, “I was invited, so why are you so surprised?” but she would no doubt laugh herself silly if he told her the circumstances under which that letter had been sent. Lawrence chuckled to himself as he pictured the scene.

Because she was in a foul mood, Holo, sideways on her seat in front of the fireplace, made a questioning sound and shot him a suspicious look.

“It would seem our guests are on their way, safe and sound.”

Several days prior, he had received letters indicating Weiz and Mark and those with them had safely reached Lenos. They seemed to have sent their letter on the way out, so they had probably reached Svolnel around the same time as Eve.

He felt somewhat odd as he thought about that.

Holo made a halfhearted nod as she sat in her chair, pulling a blanket over her lap. “You supposed poorly,” she said curtly.

“And yet, there is still time, is there not? You should focus on recuperating till then.”

As Holo spoke, she slowly closed her eyes, moving her chin so vaguely it barely felt like a nod, and turned toward the fireplace.

Even in poor condition, Holo was Holo.

When he was being soft, she always behaved frankly, but gracefully.

After taking the opportunity to show Holo the letter, he gently stroked her head. In the old days, she liked it when he messed with her hair, tousling it, but nowadays she seemed to prefer long, gentle strokes.

As her hair was being leisurely stroked, Holo browsed the contents of the letter. Though she had difficulty with writing even now, reading was no problem at all. There had been times when Lawrence’s concern over Holo’s lies that she could not read a single word had backfired. Perhaps Holo was remembering back to that time when, as she finished reading Eve’s letter, she sniffed the letter’s scent and made a small giggle.

“She is fairly angry about something, it would seem.”

“Oh, aye?” Holo made a typical small smile as she returned the letter to Lawrence. “Eve’s angry, is she?”

As Lawrence asked her back, Holo shifted her gaze to the side and closed her eyes.

It was as if she was saying, “The fool still understands nothing.” She chuckled.

But Holo’s good mood frightened Lawrence in a different sense.

Holo sank back into the chair, eyes closed. In that pose, with the tip of her tail gently swaying, it was as if she was having a pleasant dream.

“More importantly, how are things going with the business?”

For Holo to switch to that topic herself meant she wanted to dance around the other.

She was definitely hiding something, but with her worn down like this, he prudently followed her lead. On their journey, too, arguments broke out most easily when she was feeling off stride.

“It’s getting there. I’d say the skeleton’s all finished and eight-tenths of the meat is on, too. We should be getting the fine decorations and fixtures bit by bit as the snow clears.”

“Indeed. A pity I cannot watch the work in progress.”

Certainly there was pleasure in watching wood and stone put together as a building was being built. But only the passive observer had it easy; owners had no small amount of things to worry over.

“Go one step at a time. Sometimes your eyes see what is far off with surprising accuracy, but you also miss things right under your nose. ’Tis not so?”

“…”

He thought it was like she was lecturing a child, but when she asked again, “’Tis not so?” he answered, “That’s right.”

“Aye.”

Holo made a satisfied nod and then added, “But.”

“And yet your penchant for overlooking what is at your feet has led to your picking up some unexpectedly joyful things, yes?”

“Huh?”

At Lawrence’s reply, Holo made a light smile and waved dismissively with her hand. “It’s nothing,” she seemed to say. “More importantly, you, what’s happening with that?”

As Holo spoke, she opened her eyes, strength having returned to them at some point.

With the look she gave him, even Lawrence could not mistake what she meant by that.

“That, is it?”

“Aye. Will it be in time?”

The serious face Holo was making greatly resembled a look of concern, no doubt because her eyes were wide and her face was displaying a fair bit of emotion. Incidentally, it was her mouth that stood out when she smiled. It was truly lovely how she opened her mouth ridiculously wide to guffaw when she seemed to be really having fun.

As a matter of fact, while it was rare enough for Holo to be hiding something deep down, it was equally rare for her face to display this much emotion.

Without thinking, Lawrence embraced Holo’s cheeks with his palms, stroking her, forgetting that Holo had “trained” him to do so only a short time before.

“I’m confident the appraisal and supply of the goods will be worthy of a top-rank merchant.”

Holo closed one eye with a slightly dejected look while he stroked her neck like he would a puppy’s.

Perhaps she thought her wisewolf wisdom might be affected depending on how much her cheeks were stroked and her tail swished.

“But those appraisals have gotten us into trouble more than once.”

“It’s like a stone wall. We wouldn’t be here if it was any other way,” Lawrence casually replied to Holo’s abusive manner of speaking.

Holo made an exceedingly distasteful face as she stuck her tongue out, making a sigh.

“Are you not the type to keep breaking stone walls?”

“If you didn’t like it, you should’ve gotten out of the bath.” He spoke while pinching her cheeks.

They were words he would have been far too scared to speak in the middle of his journey with Holo. Nowadays, he did not worry at all that if they had a big argument on one day, Holo might be gone the next.

Holo trained her red-amber eyes on Lawrence, staring.

Many times over, water had been spilled and flames fanned from such a point onward.

Even so, ever since he had met Holo in that far-off village, Lawrence was proud that what Holo stared at the most was him.

As he confidently looked back at Holo, her ears finally wilted, her tail seeming to curl as she wrapped it around her own feet.

Among beasts, the first to look away lost.

Holo pouted her lips as she spoke.

“Once soaked, I cannot get out of the bath without getting cold.” With that, she looked at Lawrence once more. “Thus, I should just soak in the water, at least till spring comes and it becomes warm outside.”

Holo had been obstinate about not going to Yoitsu because she could guess well enough what had become of it.

According to a book she had seen in the church Elsa administered, Yoitsu’s wolves had been attacked and scattered to the winds by the Moon-Hunting Bear. Furthermore, in spite of having traveled around so much, they had never met anyone purporting to be one of Holo’s comrades, nor had they even heard of one doing so.

If they went and saw, it would become the truth.

But if they did not go and see, they still would not be sure.

This age was not the age of the people of mountains and forests that Holo and her comrades knew.

In this age, which to them was a long, bitter winter, they were compelled to live quietly and in secret.

Lawrence could not remain married to Holo for centuries. He would almost certainly die before she did.

Holo was well aware of that. It was as if she was deciding what she should do afterward.

That being the case, Lawrence could not call staying soaking in the bath until the water ran out the right thing to do.

He should build stone walls to protect the bath and arrange good food, good wine, and the playing of musical instruments.

A merchant found joy in bringing joy to others through their wares. They risked everything for the sake of hearing at the end, “Ahh, that was delightful.”

Then Holo spoke. “But I feel as if I have been soaking just a trifle too much of late.”

Lawrence wanted to explain in detail just how much he did every single day for her sake.

But it was a princess like this that could bring cheer to a merchant with a single word.

“My apologies.”

As Lawrence spoke, he embraced Holo from the side as she sat in her chair.

Inside Lawrence’s arms, Holo took a very deep breath.

Perhaps she thought of Lawrence as the finest of food, but if so, he did not mind. On this occasion, if it was a choice between a sacrament granted by a priest he barely knew or having Holo season him with the finest oils mixed with the finest salts, he would rather Holo do it from head to toe.

As he thought of such things, Holo’s tail, which had seemed asleep until now, slowly moved, making a swishing sound. As Lawrence loosened his arms slightly, she pouted a little like a sulking baby, but rationing in small amounts was a basic part of business.

“So, about that…”

On a cold morning like this, Holo would seriously obstruct Lawrence if he was trying to get her out of bed, but here, she listened as Lawrence spoke those words, a somewhat absentminded look still on her face.

“Aye…?”

“Want a preview? I was thinking that the banquet wouldn’t be a bad place for its debut.”

The item in question had been made in Svolnel and was on its way to Nyohhira at that very moment.

For a while, Holo drifted off, thinking about it, she seemed to use Lawrence’s chest to wipe her face once, exhaling before speaking curtly. “Indeed. I mind not.”

Lawrence drew his chin in a bit, as this was a terribly blunt way to say it. Between the two of them, was that really such a light thing? And such.

But taking no heed, Holo closed her eyes and yawned.

“Now that I’m warm, I’ve become sleepy.”

This was Wisewolf Holo, quirks and all.

Beside himself, Lawrence thought, It certainly figures, as Holo made a slight twist of her body and thrust her arms out.

“Mm? What is it?”

“Pick me up.”

She said it without the slightest shred of embarrassment.

As it was the nature of a merchant to respond to requests, even this one, he could not help himself.

Lawrence cradled Holo and picked her up. He thought, with a somewhat strange feeling, the day would come when he would no longer be able to carry her like this.

Holo would remain young as he became old.

Until now, Lawrence had thought only of Holo, who would be the one left behind alone, but he had spared little thought for himself.

At the moment, he still had little grasp of the meaning of getting old. His body was in good health; if he hardened his body a bit, he thought he would be able to become a traveling merchant again. But at some point his body would decline, becoming decrepit with age, and Holo would start looking like his own granddaughter.

Perhaps when that time came, he would curse his own helplessness, or perhaps lament how pathetic he had become, for in the past he had been able to cradle and lift up Holo.

From that perspective, these daily trivialities, that would repeat themselves for who knew how long, constituted precious moments he ought to value far more than gold.

It was as if her abusive language was a distraction to keep that fact from weighing upon Lawrence’s heart.

“Aren’t you bringing your wolfishness to tears?”

Holo turned her body around in Lawrence’s arms, her eyes narrowed, apparently in good spirits as she replied, “If I cry, will you console me?”

Within his arms, Holo’s big ears twitched, her tail swaying happily.

This was happiness…almost too much happiness to bear.

Therefore, all they could do was enjoy it—for they could neither stop the flow of time, nor reverse it.

Lawrence kissed the base of Holo’s closer ear, carefully putting her to bed.

Being a narrow town, streets were few.

Even without inspectors to ask what your cargo was and where it was going, those things were quite clear to all. As a result, rumors that Lawrence was holding a banquet for close acquaintances to celebrate the opening of his business had long circulated around town.

It had even been made known that he had what were clearly odd connections for a mere traveling merchant. This being the case, he would have all eyes on him whether he wanted it or not, but Lawrence did not grow timid whatsoever.

For the banquet he was preparing would be very fine indeed.

“What are you doing?” Holo called out to Lawrence while he looked over the hall of the main building that he had decorated.

These last several days her condition had improved as she had eaten more, perhaps because she had made clearer what she wished to eat and what she did not.

“I was just thinking, look at how far I’ve come.”

He said it as a light joke, but Holo made a rude laugh beside him.

“Is that a voice of mourning I hear?”

“…”

He looked down beside him at Holo and sighed.

“Only because you made me show off.”

“Heh-heh.” Holo folded her arms behind her, nuzzling against Lawrence’s arm with her face alone.

“Your own business, something you’ve gained and lost before.”

Not only once, but also twice.

There was a time when Holo had shouted at him, “Are you giving up on your dream?” That was when Holo herself had become the merchandise, about to be sold off.

For a while, Holo kept Lawrence company like that, gazing at the hall with him.

There was white fabric all over the reception table, the chairs, and the walls, making them ready to greet human beings of even the highest rank. Even if the utensils and trays were not silver, he had been able to put together a full set of brass. Swindlers deceived people into thinking fool’s gold was the real thing, but the dull, golden twinkle of brass held the indecency of gold in check, giving off what Lawrence thought to be a rather pleasant glint.

Even though he had thought it would be difficult preparing flowers in the present season, Hanna had somehow gotten her hands on plenty of early blooming ones that he had used to decorate.

Even if the hall was deserted now, it would no doubt be full of people and laughter soon enough.

It seemed that, in the end, everyone they had invited had come and would arrive without incident.

With his fingers, he counted thirteen years since he had set out on his own as a merchant. Finally, he had an establishment to call his own.

“It would have been nice if your master could have seen this, too,” Holo chimed in, apparently noticing him counting with his fingers.

Lawrence made a pained smile and shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, he was an eccentric man. He’d probably complain about all sorts of things.”

“Do you want to go find him?”

It was Holo who spoke such words—Holo, who would have either yelled in anger or cried if he had shown the slightest sign of wanting to travel.

The horse that had seen Lawrence through so many trials had become an obstinate horse that only carried Col’s things because Holo had strictly commanded it to do so.

Even so, Lawrence put his hand on Holo’s head, drawing near, and said, “Why would I?”

Holo turned her head, looking up at him.

He had not spoken much of his master, even to Holo.

“All I have to do is have a business so big he’ll have to take notice, after all.”

“…”

Holo’s large ears twitched as she discerned the meaning of his words, reading Lawrence’s sentiment with her large eyes.

But, Lawrence thought to himself, he was confident she would not find what she sought within his heart, for he did not understand it himself.

No, he thought. It was probably the same way she thought about Yoitsu.

Lawrence and his master passed through a treacherous mountain trail, reaching a town inn at the ends of their endurance. Just before Lawrence fell asleep, his master told him, “I’m heading out for a bit,” and left without any proper luggage.

No one had seen him since.

Lawrence had heard he had debts and a woman he loved. He probably thought Lawrence would just slow him down.

But his master had left him all of his charters and most of his cash on hand.

He was a man of many mysteries, so he probably ended up as a monk or recluse or something.

At the very least, that is what Lawrence thought, for it dispensed with all concerns.

“Before that, I need an establishment no one’s going to laugh at.”

“They shall not laugh.” Holo seemed peeved as she spoke, unclasping her hands from behind her back and folding her arms in front of her chest. “They absolutely shall not laugh.”

“That might be a problem in itself.”

As Lawrence pinched her cheek, she seemed annoyed as she turned her face aside.

“But even these things can happen if you live long enough.” His murmur was deep in emotion.

A mere traveling merchant.

A traveling merchant who thought great profits were as distant as the moon floating in the sky.

His being in that place and time seemed very much like a reflection of that moon floating on the water.

“’Tis all thanks to me.”

Holo said it without an ounce of shame.

With Holo like that, Lawrence took her hand, speaking to her as if she was a princess.

“I do not deny it.”

“But ’tis thanks to you that I am so happy now, too.”

Holo said that with even less shame.

She said it with a determined look, a chuckle, and a smile.

As Lawrence shrugged his shoulders and replied, “I won’t deny that either, you know,” Holo’s tail swished around as she cackled.

Just as she was doing that, Col opened the door and entered.

Because ’twas the occasion of a banquet, he wore not his usual worn-out clothing, but a seminary student robe Hanna had tailored for him. His hair being fastened and held up by a red ribbon was no doubt the result of teasing by the musicians and dancing girls.

“Everyone is here!”

He was out of breath, possibly from running all the way over from the center of town.

Lawrence and Holo’s faces met, and both nodding at the same time, they walked forward.

As they went outside, it was surprisingly fine weather, even by the standards of the last few days, enough to make someone wearing thick clothing sweat.

“Because the sky has been nothing but clouds, ’tis making my eyes blink.”

“Are you all right?”

“I just wanted you to know if there are tears in my eyes ’tis not my doing.”

As Holo spoke those words, she stomped on Lawrence’s foot.

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Fool.”

As Col opened the door, he looked to and fro in front of the establishment and finally made a pained smile.

Col called out to him just so. “Ah, right. Mr. Lawrence…”

“Mm?”

“Mr. Luward and the others should be bringing it up right about now, but where shall you present it? At the start of the banquet? Or here, perhaps?” Col spoke as he made ready a stepladder and mallet below the building’s eaves.

The front of the bathhouse served as a fine front entrance, but it was still incomplete, and there was a reason for that.

Lawrence thought a bit before replying.

“Here’s good. That’s what it’s for to begin with.”

“I suppose so. Best to use it as a nice opening ceremony, then.”

Col moved with a bounce in his step. To be frank, Lawrence had not paid much heed to the tiny details because Col had taken care of them all beforehand.

“You’ve come to rely on him quite a lot.”

“Jealous?”

As he asked, Holo leered, showing her fangs. “As if I could lose to a little brat like that.”

It was a wolfish face she did not show very often, one not so much frightening as bewitching.

“Well, you have become a fair bit more plump of late.”

As Lawrence spoke in jest, Holo stomped his foot with all her might.

He suffered in silent agony as Holo coldly declared, “Fool.”

“Ah, Mr. Luward and the others are coming! Er, did something happen?”

As Col glanced between them, Holo made a grinning smile as Lawrence suffered without a word, something that happened rather often. Col made an exasperated smile and went to welcome Luward and the others.

“But I wonder how it’ll feel in the end?”

She spoke in such a sunny voice that it was as if what had just occurred had never existed.

Though it would do Lawrence no good to speak of the fact, he was in awe at the speed of the change.

“It’ll feel simple. Simple is best, after all.”

She replied, “Indeed,” and nodded.

Lawrence had conveyed his broad desires to Hugues the art merchant, and from the drawings Hugues had come up with, he had selected the simplest of them.

From there, the drawing had been shipped to Svolnel, entrusted to the hands of Jean Millike, the man who ran it. Lawrence had wanted to entrust someone else, but Holo had stubbornly insisted.

In the end, Millike did accept; he also sent an exceptionally curt letter that simply said: “Invite me when you hold the celebration.”

No doubt Millike, child of man and spirit, who even now held sway over that town to protect the burial site of his beloved wife, who had departed long before him, had a thought or two in regards to Holo.

Nonetheless, the two did apparently have a few things in common. From time to time, Holo would send off some alcohol to him and he would send some to her, back and forth.

And so, what Lawrence had requested was cast in the furnace that had been lit once more in Svolnel.

It was the same furnace where the first gold coins bearing the Debau Company’s symbol of the sun were minted, and the day that furnace was lit was the day Lawrence and Holo had sworn to go as far as they might together.

No doubt a first-rate craftsman had been hired to do the work.

As neither Lawrence nor Holo had wanted to look at it before it was complete, they had no idea what the final product looked like at all.

So the sign that would hang over the bathhouse’s front entrance would truly be revealed for the first time this day.

“Mr. Lawrence! Miss Holo!”

Moizi raised his voice first, his great frame and vigor undiminished by the years.

Luward Myuri was a tad taller and his physique quite a bit sterner after six years, perhaps looking so radiant because of the backdrop, but to Lawrence’s eyes, he looked like he was at pains to drag a smile onto his face.

“It’s been a while.”

Luward spoke calmly and put out his hand.

Lawrence gripped his hand, shaking it vigorously.

And then, Luward knelt before Holo on one knee, suddenly coming to a halt.

This was no doubt his display of the highest respect to Holo, comrade of Myuri, the symbol of their banner and the wolf of Yoitsu from whom he had inherited his name as captain of a mercenary company of people of Yoitsu.

But Holo did not like this kind of thing.

Luward, still halted on one knee, respectfully took Holo’s hand and put his lips to the back of it.

“A fine male you have become.”

“Thank you very much.”

The Myuri family line had passed a message down for Holo’s sake.

No doubt Holo was grateful beyond words; no doubt Luward, current head of the house, could not be more proud.

“But you have become even more beautiful. Truly, among women, you are—”

Right around there, Holo put her index finger to Luward’s lips.

“…?”

“Kufu.”

Holo smiled and tilted her head slightly, her gaze shifting from Luward’s questioning look to the horse-drawn wagon behind him.

“The luggage is over there?”

“Ah yes. Hey!”

With that, Luward completely regained his captain’s demeanor. No doubt the men who had followed Luward in his father’s stead no longer called him “Young One.”

“I was more worried about this than any other cargo escort job we’ve ever had.”

The scars on his face had increased, making his smile feel more striking.

No doubt he would slip past death many times more as the years would pass, growing into a mercenary sharper and more forceful than even Moizi.

“Should we put it up right now?”

“No, we’ll do it once people come, right?”

Holo’s words were directed toward Lawrence.

“I think that’s best. They’ve come all this way.”

“Understood. Moizi and I have it here, so go ahead and unveil it.”

It was a large, round metallic sign that a single adult could just barely get his arms around.

Some people simply had the name of their establishment for the design on their signs; others used symbols that carried some kind of drama or that simply stood out.

Lawrence had put the name of his establishment on the sign.

“It came out nicely?”

As Lawrence asked, Luward carried it over together with Moizi with ease, making a leer as he spoke.

“It made me tremble.”

“Can we use that line as a testimonial?”

Luward first made an easygoing laugh at Lawrence’s words. “How about ‘’Tis the finest bathhouse of the age, where even the hardy Myuri Mercenary Company feels at home’?”

“Oh, everyone has arrived!”

Lawrence suddenly grew tense at Moizi’s words.

He could see a group coming from a grove of trees toward the top of the hill.

Eve was first, followed by Norah and Elsa and more. There seemed to indeed be five people.

In the end, he would still never understand Holo’s true intent.

But beside him, Holo was in an exuberant mood; it seemed that Holo really had not brought this about because he had made her angry.

If that was so, what in the world was this?

No, best not to question, Lawrence decided.

Either way, there was no more felicitous day than this.

To Lawrence, there was only a single thing that he could think of that would be more so.

“Ah, that’s right.” It was while she held Lawrence’s hand, in the middle of heading to the entrance to the grounds to meet their guests.

“Mm?”

“There is something I forgot to ask.”

“What?”

Was there something she had forgotten to have prepared for the day’s feast?

He thought it must be something like that.

“Aye. The name.”

“Hm?” Lawrence replied, then continued. “We decided on a name, didn’t we? Er, well, certainly if you want to change it, it can still be changed…But didn’t you like it? Spice and…”

He would have continued, but Holo’s gaze alone brought Lawrence’s lips to a halt.

It was not because she was angry. She was not sad, either. Nor was she beside herself. It was that even though her smiling face was so soft, it bore a look of seemingly unfathomable happiness, as if merely looking at him was enough to stir her heart very deeply.

And so she spoke. “’Tis not that.”

“That?”

Lawrence spontaneously raised his head, looking all around the area.

Holo giggled and smiled. “Honestly,” she said with a sigh. “So you really had not noticed? I was beginning to think you simply pretended not to…”

Lawrence was utterly confused.

What was Holo talking about?

While this was going on, the party of guests reached the top of the hill.

Unexpectedly, the first one up the hill was Weiz the money changer, but apparently Enek the dog had been chasing him; he had probably made a pass at Norah or something.

But the sight of them did not really enter Lawrence’s head.

Inside his head, he felt like something incredible was about to be born.

Yes.

So strongly, like something, something completely new, was about to be born, here and now!

“It can’t be—” As Lawrence raised his voice in a near shout, he became too overwhelmed to say any more.

He was in no condition to greet their guests; everyone around them paid attention to Lawrence’s odd state.

Holo grinned. “To the very end, you never actually asked why I invited them to a banquet,” she said. She narrowed her eyes—because of the dazzling brightness, or perhaps to hold back tears. “Obviously I wish to brag!”

And then, she lifted her chin and stood up on her toes, heedless of her surroundings.

There was no way he could decide something like that with all these people watching…!

He did not know if what reached his ears after were cries of acclaim or exasperated sighs.

But as Lawrence embraced Holo, he could say with certainty that he was the happiest man in the world.

Such was the memorable opening of a legendary bathhouse said to be a place of many smiles and much happiness…

…Spice and Wolf.

THE END