Spice and Wolf - Volume 20 - Chapter 1

WHAT FALLS IN SPRING AND WOLF

The snow disappeared from the mountains, the trees budded, and the world bloomed with color.

The stone-cold winter wind gained the scent of soft earth.

The change from winter to spring to early summer happened every year, but the happiness it brought was always fresh.

Nonetheless, plenty of work awaited as the world grew more active, some of it enjoyable and some not.

The most dreadful of them all found its way to Lawrence this year.

“Ngh…mm…Achoo!”

Something had gotten into the master of Spice and Wolf’s nose, and he awoke with a sneeze. He thought for a moment that a spider had spun a web on his face as he slept, but it seemed he was wrong.

Wondering what it might be, he rubbed his face and soon realized. He pulled back the blanket over him, and there was a terrible sight.

“Hey, get up.”

Under that same blanket was a girl who could easily be mistaken for a child, fast asleep. She had beautiful flaxen hair and, at first glance, looked like nobility, but her thin frame made her appear more like a nun.

Of course, Lawrence had not smuggled someone in behind God’s back—it was his wife, Holo.

In short, while not anything particularly shameful, there was something Holo did not wish for others to know. It was not how carefree she was, curled up sleeping without the blanket.

It was how she had pointed animal ears on her head and a large tail growing from her behind. She was the avatar of a wolf, who once called herself a god and had been worshipped as one.

“So it’s this time of year again…”

As he looked down at Holo, a half smile from some sort of dream on her silly sleeping face, the self-proclaimed wisewolf’s large tail moved slowly. Lawrence immediately sneezed again.

The blanket was covered in brown hairs underneath, and of course, the color was the same as the sleeping Holo’s tail.

The shedding season had come again this year.

Nyohhira, famous as a hot spring village, was not only popular in winter but also during summer. Again today, there was plenty of luggage stacked at the port built on the river that cut through the village.

In the tavern beside the port, Lawrence pulled out some silver coins from his wallet and lined them up neatly.

“Here it is.”

“Hmm. Silver debau…and seven of them. Good weight, too. Been a while since I’ve seen a neat coin without the edges scraped away.”

The one counting Lawrence’s row of coins was a man with a rather large nose. Perhaps it looked so big because of how red it was from the alcohol.

The man dressed like a woodcutter pretending to be a merchant—which matched his occupation exactly. He was a traveling craftsman.

“I appreciate your patronage every year. But it seems your wife’s got rather long hair.”

On the table with ale and pork sausages were almost thirty brushes, their bristles all in neat rows. This craftsman made brushes and hair accessories for the dancing girls who came to the village, but Lawrence was very aware that he ordered the most brushes by far.

“She brushes her hair when she finds a free moment. It’s terribly expensive.”

The debau silver, a sun engraved on the face, was a splendid coin, considered best among its peers.

Lawrence had handed over seven.

A skilled craftsman supporting a family as an honest citizen could earn a silver and a half to two silver at most in a day’s work, so he knew how wasteful it was.

“I appreciate the business, but why not go for a metal one? A good gilded one will never rust and is gentle on the hair. One of those would last a long time.”

The craftsman spoke words that would lessen his own keep. He was probably tired of making tens upon tens of brushes. He wandered, unaffiliated with any town association despite his talent, likely because he was the type to dislike repetitive work.

“She’s insisted that she doesn’t want to use a metal one.”

“Ha-ha. There are plenty of girls like that, saying it’ll damage their hair. Well, better than them wanting only metal brushes.” The craftsman laughed, gulping down his ale, and finally heaved a loud sigh. “I can take your orders for a few more years, but what’ll you do after that?” he said, gazing at the front and back of his new silver coins before putting them into his wallet. “My eyes’ve started going bad. Quite the hassle lining up all the bristles.”

“Is that so…? I was hoping to always have you make them for us.”

“Why, then I’ll find a fellow craftsman for you. A workshop in town could easily get all the brushes you need done.”

But that would cost them the craftsmen association’s commission rate and shipping fees, plus the quality would be worse even if they paid the same price.

As Lawrence thought about how he needed to convince Holo somehow, the craftsman emptied his ale, stuffed the rest of the sausage into his mouth, and stood.

“Well, I’ve got work at the next bathhouse.”

“Oh, my apologies. Thank you so much.”

Like the impatient craftsman he was, the man was already walking off and responded to Lawrence with a wave of his hand.

Lawrence gave a tired sigh, downed his own ale, grabbed his bagful of brushes, and returned to the bathhouse.

There were already guests at the bathhouse, so Holo usually stayed in the bedroom during shedding season. That was because her fur stuck everywhere, which made it a chore to clean. Moreover, if the guests caught a glimpse of the characteristic wolf hairs, they would naturally grow nervous at the thought that a wolf emerged from the forest during the night and had been wandering around.

“Here, new brushes.”

He spread them out on the writing desk, then took one and tossed it to Holo. While she typically sat on the bed to groom herself, she was currently on a chair she had placed beside the window.

She looked rather elegant, with a cup of wine or something of the sort sitting on the windowsill.

“Hmm. As always, these brushes smell of fine wood.”

She leaned down to the new brush and sniffed it.

Lawrence in turn took a whiff, and there was the scent of freshly cut lumber.

“As expected, the scent of the forest suits my tail best.”

Holo spoke with great delight, but she was probably being self-concious. She must have felt sorry for how expensive it was, yet found it difficult to switch to a metal brush.

“I don’t mind but don’t scatter the hair too much.”

“You fool,” she said, although it was true that there would be no end to cleaning the room at this time of year. Almost reflexively, Lawrence took the broom leaning on the wall and began sweeping the floor.

Holo, sitting in her chair, took offense.

“You grow more unpleasant every year.”

“Hmm? Sure, I suppose I’ve gotten more refined over the years.” Lawrence stretched his back, stroking his beard as he spoke. “Well, I’m much happier since we have one fewer tails this year.”

There was another in the bathhouse who had a wolf’s ears and tail. Those belonged to their only daughter, Myuri, but she had stuck with Col, a young man who had been working at the bathhouse before leaving to travel, so she was no longer home. That still pained Lawrence even now, but it was not all bad. Especially since, unlike Holo, Myuri did not seem very interested in maintaining her tail, and because she left it to shed on its own, it was more of a handful than it needed to be.

However, as Lawrence placed the broom back on the wall, it dawned upon him.

“Actually, we haven’t lost a tail.”

“Hmm?”

“I forgot about Miss Selim.”

Selim was the new girl who had come to work at the bathhouse not too long ago. Odd circumstances had brought her to take on the job, and like Holo, Selim was also the embodiment of a wolf.

“Well, we have the brushes we ordered for Myuri, so I suppose I could give those to her.”

It was the master’s job to mind his employees so that their work could be easier.

Lawrence thought about that as he picked out several brushes from the desk when Holo reached out from beside him and snatched them all up.

“These are mine.”

Lawrence was dumbstruck but quickly recovered.

“What are you talking about? Miss Selim must be having a hard time just like you are.”

“She can hide her ears and tail, so there is no need.”

Holo’s reply was curt.

For a moment, Lawrence thought she was serious, but he quickly came to his senses.

“Myuri could hide her ears and tail, but she was like you at this time of year.”

Unlike Holo, their only daughter Myuri could freely show and hide her ears and tail. Yet, they did not simply disappear once she hid them and still required maintenance.

“Why are you telling such obvious lies?”

When Lawrence asked his question, he was more exasperated than admonishing. Without even a hint of uncertainty, Holo looked away in a huff and spoke.

“’Twould be better to just give her the coin. The artisan with the big nose is still in the village, yes?”

That was true, but Holo certainly had no need for that many brushes, despite how many she went through.

That was Lawrence’s line of thought, but he had learned from experience that responding logically to Holo’s whims would only make things more complicated. Brushes were not perishable, either, so giving Selim money and ordering brushes separately would produce the same result.

In the end, he chose to obey Holo.

“Very well, then.”

He responded, and Holo still looked at him like she wanted to say something but first returned the brushes and the bag she held back onto the desk.

“By the way, dear…”

Holo sat back down in the chair and spoke solemnly, even clearing her throat.

Though this happened every year, she would never ask for it herself.

“Yes, yes, I understand, milady.”

Lawrence wore a tired smile and took in his hand a brush that still smelled of the forest.

It was like peeling an onion, where it seemed as if one layer of skin suddenly turned into two; an optical illusion.

That was what maintaining Holo’s tail felt like every year.

Once they ordered the new brushes, Lawrence was always the one to do the first brushing, and after that, he would only do so when Holo asked.

And this year, she had been asking much more than usual from the very start. Once a bit of his work was done and after he had finished lunch, Lawrence was in the room with Holo, who lay over his lap facedown.

Her freshly brushed tail waved about as she dozed lazily.

The great wisewolf was rather particular about caring for her tail, and under no circumstances had she allowed Lawrence to touch it for quite some time back when they first started traveling together. When that thought crossed his mind, he got a real sense for how much she trusted him, and a smile spread across his face. It was also an expression of resignation at how idle she looked, since the motherly poise she had so refined had been completely discarded ever since Myuri left.

Lawrence pulled out the hairs tangled in the brush and added them to the mountain of fur that had been stuffed in a bag.

He always thought about making a cushion out of it, but Holo consistently refused: “I am the one who sits atop you, not the other way around.”

Regardless of who sat on top of whom, his merchant’s instincts felt it somewhat of a waste. Had Holo been a sheep, it would have been unthinkable to throw away her sheared wool.

“…Bwaaa—”

As he was thinking, Holo made a strange sound and her body twitched.

He thought she resembled a dog dozing outside on a warm day, but he knew well what would happen if he mentioned that out loud.

“Hey, you’ll get sick if you don’t sleep with the covers on.”

He said it out of consideration, but Holo began waving her tail at his face, as though telling him to be quiet.

“Come on, sto…stop!”

As he fought against her tail, Holo reached out to him when she had the opportunity and grabbed the nape of his neck. Oh no, he thought as he fell over, becoming the wolf’s prey.

“…I have to go back to work soon,” he said, but Holo clung to him, her tail wagging back and forth. “I swear…You’ve been so undisciplined ever since Myuri left.”

She had not even one word to raise a word in argument.

Incidentally, the bit of wine Lawrence had for lunch was stronger than he had thought. He soon found himself struck with the irresistible temptation for a nap.

He had a great deal of work he needed to do, yet he could hear the devil whispering to him that it would be all right to relax for just one day.

As Holo’s tail moved slower and slower, Lawrence’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

Just as his consciousness was about to fade, he somehow managed to shake away the drowsiness and got up.

“No, I can’t. Miss Hanna and Miss Selim are working right now.”

Holo, still lying on the bed, shot Lawrence a spiteful look.

“I know having to stay in the room is depressing, but there’s an exciting summer waiting for you once you get over this.”

Anyone who ventured into the mountains could gather heaps of mushrooms and nuts, and the bees building hives in the region meant there was enough honey to fill an entire river. Fish from the rivers were more delicious in summer than they were in winter, and once the road conditions improved and grew lively with travel, herds of livestock would come—and with them, fresh uncured meat.

That was why he had to work hard and prepare.

“If you’re that bored, then why don’t you think of some use for this?”

Lawrence spoke as he pointed to the bag stuffed with Holo’s hairs, and she narrowed her eyes.

“We gather so much every year, and it takes so much time, too. It’s a waste to do nothing with it. Hey, when that noble girl came a while ago, she had a doll made from her pet dog’s fur, no?”

It was extremely well-made, and the dancers had been quite interested in it. It had crossed his mind how rich he could be conducting trade with items such as that, but he did give up when he heard how much trouble it was to make one of those dolls.

“Your tail hairs must be plenty blessed to keep the bears away.”

He did not mention anything about the wolves, but the rulers of the forest would certainly keep clear if they caught Holo’s scent.

“Fool.” Holo spoke curtly, however, and rolled over. “I am Holo the Wisewolf. To use parts of my body so easily means disaster shall befall you.”

“That’s overdoing it.” He laughed, and Holo glared at him.

If he were to tease her any more, she would truly get angry at him.

“Just stay put for now.”

With that, Holo gave a deep sigh. Her ears and tail drooped weakly, dejected.

“I do not mind staying in the room…But how I wish to soak in the baths…”

“Don’t do that.”

Since they lived in the mountains, the residents were very sensitive to rumors about wandering wolves. If wolf hairs were found floating in the baths, the commotion would not end with just Holo and Lawrence’s inn. The entire village was liable to erupt into a frenzy.

“I’ll stock up on something good for you.”

In the end, with no choice but to placate her with food, Holo’s ears twitched.

“Hmm…Then I prefer roast pig.”

“Hey, don’t be so unreasonable. You know there’s no way I can stock up on roast pigs.”

He had explained to Holo many times how difficult it was to obtain live pig in the mountains.

First, they would have to order with a merchant traveling through Nyohhira, who would have to relay that to a butcher in the town downstream from the village. Once the butcher received the message, they would go to the market, tell the butcher’s association farmhouse transaction receptionist what size and type of pig they wanted, then wait for the farm to bring one in. If they were lucky and the farm did have one, and there were no similar orders from other butchers, only then could they obtain it. For it to finally arrive in Nyohhira, the process went in reverse, and if the pig was still alive, then it would cry, poop, and try its best to run away, which would require special couriers to manage. Additionally, since everything was to be included under one price for the whole pig, contracts would have to be drawn up between the transporting and purchasing merchants. It was quite possible a notary could also be dragged into it.

In any case, it was an enormous hassle, and the costs were astronomical.

No matter how many times he explained that it was not a matter of simply being stingy or spiteful, Holo always remained skeptical.

When he thought he might have to repeat it all over again, Holo’s ears twitched, and she spoke.

“’Tis not unreasonable.”

“Come on.”

As he began to explain with a sigh, Holo got up and peeked out the window.

“Look, dear, ’tis the pig merchant.”

“Huh? No way something that convenient—”

He started to speak as he looked out the window, and there it was—a pig on a line being pulled along. Holo’s ears must have caught the pig’s squealing.

“Let us roast that for tonight. How about it, dear?”

Holo’s expression transformed from listless to cheerful, and she grasped his clothes like a child, pestering him.

Lawrence, however, was not in shock because of the pig.

He recognized the person leading the animal along.

“Mr. Luward?!”

It was a stalwart, veteran mercenary, who did not quite fit the image of someone that would take a pig for a walk.

He hurriedly rushed out to the front of the bathhouse to greet him, and Luward, unburdened with only several subordinates in tow, stood there, relaxed.

“Hey, Mr. Lawrence.”

“…”

He thought he might have been mistaken, but it was, in fact, Luward.

He appeared to be in good health, and his smile grew increasingly dazzling every time they met, leaving Lawrence feeling a bit like he was daydreaming.

“Um…Well, if you’re here for a chat, then come in. Holo will be glad, too.”

Luward nodded, turned back to his subordinates, and ordered them inside.

And at the end of the lead he gripped in his hand was a fat, round pig.

“I would have sent you a letter, but we’re in a rush,” Luward said once he entered the bathhouse.

While Luward’s mercenary company was not that big, it was a band of soldiers who were no stranger to valor here in the northlands. Due to their strength and fame, they were in such a position that any and every lord would empty their wallets to call them to their territory.

And this mercenary captain had just entered his house in a rush with a pig in tow.

Things were not quite adding up.

“You must be busy during this season…” Lawrence murmured offhandedly something he did not quite understand himself.

“Well, sure, we’ve secured good income this year, but we took on some peculiar work. Anyways, let’s have a chat. That’s also why we came today,” Luward said.

Certainly, he had brought only five subordinates with him, and his right-hand strategist was not present.

“And of course, I didn’t forget the souvenir.”

Apparently the pig he had brought with him was a gift. Lawrence smiled wearily at Luward’s usual lively demeanor.

“I’m sure Lady Holo and our mercenary troupe’s princess would be thrilled, right?” Luward continued.

The name of Luward’s band was the Myuri Mercenary Company. It had been created by the humans who were entrusted with a message given to them by Myuri, one of Holo’s old companions, after the two had last seen each other.

It was also their daughter’s namesake.

“Is our princess any bigger? And perhaps her attitude has improved as well?”

Luward spoke delightfully. The tomboyish Myuri loved Luward, a man who lived out real adventure stories and served as her strongest playmate since he never flinched, no matter what sort of unheard-of pranks she pulled on him.

Luward adored Myuri, too, but there was something that pained Lawrence.

“Well…”

He told Luward that their daughter Myuri had left on a journey with the young man who had worked in the bathhouse, Col.

Upon hearing this, Luward did not even notice that the lead had slipped from his hand.

“Oh my…Those two are…”

“Y-your head, sir!”

Two subordinates propped Luward up as he reeled.

Luward ordered his subordinates back, and with his hand on his forehead, he gazed skyward and closed his eyes.

When he finally looked at Lawrence, his face wore an expression that not even his troops had seen when they had been nearly wiped out.

“I can’t believe I said that without any consideration to you, Mr. Lawrence.”

He pressed his hand to his chest as though he had been shot with an arrow.

“I feel like I’ve just sent my daughter off to be married…”

“They didn’t elope.”

Luward deflated at Lawrence’s quick response.

“Are you sure?”

“You have my guarantee.”

Luward seemed to finally understand when Lawrence spoke so insistently.

He smiled with a furrowed brow, lightly patted the stubborn bathhouse master on the shoulder, and even embraced him.

“Well then, I guess it’s time for a drink.”

Lawrence finally felt as if he had met someone he could empathize with about his daughter.

Plentiful, fatty meat clung to the ends of the bones Holo feasted on. Paying no mind to the grease dripping down her chin, she bit and tore into meat so tender it came straight off the bone. The pork melted in her mouth, becoming more and more flavorful as she chewed.

In the end, she licked off the yellow fat still stuck to the bone before finally draining the ale that had been cooling in the ice room.

“Hmah…So good…!”

Holo, the hairs on her tail bristling, was overcome with emotion as she spoke.

“I’m very glad you like it.”

Since other guests in the bathhouse dining hall would stare, they used the hearth in the bedroom for a bout of drinking.

Lawrence was slightly concerned since the smell of pork fat would not disappear for a few days, which meant Holo would be hungrier than usual for as long as that lasted.

“I really wish your daughter could have eaten it as well,” Luward said as he stuck the diced pork loin onto the metal skewer he had brought with him.

That cut of meat is said to be most delicious when cooked all the way through.

“What a pity it would be to waste such good meat on that fool. It’s enough to write to her and say ’twas good.”

Holo and her daughter, Myuri, competed quite seriously when it came to food.

However, Lawrence suddenly realized something.

“I see. A letter, hmm…If we tell her we have good meat, I wonder if she’ll come back home.”

Luward smiled wryly when he heard Lawrence muttering to himself.

“As someone who shares the Myuri name, I don’t think Col would be so bad.”

“Say it again for this stubborn fool,” Holo said, gnawing on the crunchy fried pig’s ear.

“But, Lady Holo, us men could never be so wise.”

Holo sighed, exasperated, and reached out to the pork intestine stew.

“By the by, why have you come? Even I feel indebted receiving a whole pig as a gift.”

She said this, but she had enough energy to put the food away almost entirely by herself. They were right to set aside portions for Selim and Hanna when slaughtering the pig.

As Lawrence considered this, the typically daring Luward hesitated rather conspicuously before opening his mouth.

“Er, about that…”

He withdrew a small pouch from his hip, where he kept his sword.

“This is a charm that I received from your daughter.”

The sewing on it was rough, and it could not be called nice-looking even out of flattery.

Holo put down her ale and her nose twitched, her eyebrows quickly knitting together.

“Why has that fool given you such a thing?”

From the way she said it, Lawrence understood that it was Myuri who made the pouch.

“Well, when we went hunting together in this village, we were talking about what would happen if we were attacked by wolves, and she told me to keep this.”

“…”

Holo looked irritated.

“What’s inside?” Lawrence asked, and Luward looked extremely guilty.

“The hairs from your daughter’s tail.”

“Her tail?”

“Yes…I refused her three times, but she hid several in my luggage. I couldn’t throw them away, so I ended up carrying one around with me…”

The emblem of the Myuri Mercenary Company was a wolf, and Holo’s old companion had a hand in its formation, but Luward and the others never depended on Holo’s extraordinary power. That was partly of pride and out of respect for Holo as well.

Thus, he must have felt deeply pained in borrowing Myuri’s power, although it was out of his control.

However, it was strange that they would bring a pig all the way to the bathhouse for that.

As various speculations ran through Lawrence’s head, Holo placed her mug firmly on the floor, as if signaling something.

“Well, I suppose you ran into trouble wearing that as wolf repellent, no?” Holo spoke as she reached out for the skewered meat as it scorched.

Trouble? As Lawrence turned his gaze toward Holo, Luward spoke.

“Yes…exactly. In the beginning, no matter what forest we passed through, we no longer had any problematic encounters with wolves, and it was a great relief.”

Luward took a carafe from one of his subordinates and poured more drink into Holo’s mug. They must have been something like his personal guard and probably subordinates he could trust. They had been completely unfazed when they saw Holo’s ears and tail.

“It’s led to an odd situation where we recently took some work.”

“Hmm.”

Holo’s tail rustled, as if to say, “Tell me.”

Hairs fluttered about as they were shed, but Luward of course did not even so much as narrow his eyes.

“Right now, we are working as guards for a certain noble, but we were asked to curb the wolves that roamed in his territory.”

“Curb.” Holo repeated the word, a mischievous smile on her face.

Lawrence, being concerned about Luward’s position, directed a cough toward her.

“’Tis a joke. It sounds like a rumor spread that wolves stay clear of you, and someone who heard of such employed you, then went off to hunt the wolves to exterminate them, yes?”

Luward wordlessly drooped his head, so that seemed to be spot on.

“That is exactly it…”

“And? So with our little fool’s hair, most wolves stay away, no? Or perhaps you encountered our kin?”

While there were not many beasts like Holo, who understood the human language and lived long lives, they did certainly exist.

Among them were wolves, and Selim was a good example. They were often powerful beings as well.

In that case, then they would have no choice but to carry Holo away with them in order to relieve the current situation, so it made sense they brought a pig as tribute. The problem was how Holo would have to turn on the wolves she should be calling her companions.

A chord of anxiety ran through Lawrence, but Luward shook his head weakly.

“No…”

“Mm…Hmm?”

Holo, who had just spoke of the worst possibility, looked at Lawrence with a mixture of relief, confusion, and worry.

Lawrence, too, found it unexpected, as he had not imagined any other possibility.

“Mr. Luward, it seems like you have been caught up in some sort of trouble due to our daughter. So it is our job as her parents to take on this responsibility. Do you think you could tell us what it is?” Lawrence asked, and Luward looked at him like a sinner to a priest in a confessional.

“I feel greatly obliged for your consideration. Honestly…To be honest, we are entirely responsible for all this…But this is not something we can do anything about,” Luward said. He held a fist to his mouth as though ready to bite into it, then lifted his head resolutely and continued. “In fact, it’s the opposite.”

“…The opposite?”

Holo’s tail flopped from right to left.

“Yes. The lord who hired us requested we do something about a pack of ferocious wolves roaming about the forests. While we were originally hired for a territorial war, our contract had already been settled, and to show cowardice would cause problems for our banner. With no choice, we accepted and went into the forest to curb the wolves. And as always, with the help of your daughter’s pouch, we had an immediate effect. However, that was one month ago.” Luward sighed deeply. “It seems the leader of the pack has become infatuated with me.”

It was clear from his sullen expression how terribly idiotic he felt explaining this.

“I want to believe it was a misunderstanding, but that’s all I can think of. At first, I thought they saw us as a formidable foe, so they followed us at a great distance. But one day, placed in front of the inn where we were lodging, we found a deer.”

The mercenary captain wiped away the beads of sweat on his forehead.

“In conflicts between tribes from long ago, warriors would intimidate their enemies by placing the carcasses of animals before their rival’s houses or harassed them with magic, but…”

He then peeked up at Holo, who responded, “We do not do such things,” her expression oddly serious.

Lawrence noticed how the tip of her tail was quivering and realized that she was suppressing a laugh.

“Not only that, but after we found sheep outside countless times, we found fox and rabbit, badgers, large carp, and even lamprey…The guarantee it could not be out of malice was when we found a large beehive outside.”

Holo pretended to drink her ale, desperately trying to hide her mirth. Yet, her tail shivered, like a snake in its death throes.

“Then one day we decided to confront the wolf. And what a magnificent pack the male led…”

Luward pressed his hand to his forehead, as though enduring a headache. Lawrence decided not to ask what happened and what sort of situation it ended up being.

A large male wolf, infatuated by Myuri’s scent, had fervently offered tribute.

Luward did not seem to be injured, so although he was likely not attacked, he probably did not feel very alive from being fawned over, either.

“It would be a warrior’s disgrace to turn a blade against someone who harbors no ill intent. Yet, we were up against a wolf, the opposite of a human…er, I mean, Lady Holo and Mr. Lawrence are different, though!”

“Don’t worry about it. And then?”

Lawrence urged him on, and Luward inhaled deeply, then continued.

“Even if no one gets hurt, we would still be troubled if surrounded by a pack of wolves. Someone may think we are using some sort of strange magic, and while there are people who might think we are part of the same pack, others might not think the same way. And…,” Luward said, “if possible, we would hope that you, Lady Holo, could explain this misunderstanding to those wolves.”

Holo then burst out into a fit of laughter.

“Heh-heh-heh…I am sorry. What a predicament this must be for you…But…Snort. Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

Holo laughed out loud, which was unlike her, and almost doubled over.

Once her fit had ended, Holo drew closer to the drooping Luward and took Myuri’s pouch from his hand.

“I swear. Our little fool is still young.”

She brought her nose closer to it and sniffed it, then tossed the pouch onto Lawrence’s lap.

“But we certainly cannot overlook our daughter’s carelessness. The old Myuri who had given you his claw would surely misjudge me as I have given you so much trouble.”

Luward looked up at her as if he were a criminal whose death sentence had just been canceled.

“Then—”

“Yes. We have no choice but to explain the situation to those hapless wolves.”

“Thank you. My strategist, Moizi, is wearing one of the pouches on his person, and he should be doing his best to handle that wolf right now.”

Moizi was Luward’s pseudo father-turned-strategist, a man with a magnificent bearlike physique.

When Lawrence imagined Moizi flustered as a large wolf fawned over him, he felt bad, yet found it funny.

“But…” Holo then spoke. “I cannot go.”

“Holo!”

Lawrence interjected, but Holo glared at him with a strangely sharp gaze.

Overwhelmed, Lawrence fell silent, and she waved her tail, satisfied, before speaking.

“Instead, I shall send one of our young ones.”

“Young…ones?”

“Miss Selim?”

Holo’s lips drew together into a pout at Lawrence’s question.

Then she faced Luward—not Lawrence—and explained:

“’Twas just a little while ago we hired one of our kin. A rather promising young wolf named Selim. She should fit well enough for the job.”

“Thank you. But…”

Luward glanced briefly at Lawrence, then at Holo. He seemed to notice a sort of odd atmosphere arising between the two.

“I must stay in the bathhouse. Help is the work of a newcomer. Is that not right?”

Of course, Luward could not deny this.

“That is true, but…”

“Then ’tis settled.”

Holo spoke and reached out for more meat.

Just as she opened her mouth wide to take a bite, she stared at the two dumbfounded men.

“I am Holo the Wisewolf. Do you find something unsatisfactory with my judgment?”

Luward shook his head in denial, and while Lawrence still had some questions, he merely sighed.

Selim accepted the job without a hint of resistance, despite being given such an odd duty.

Her return would be delayed had she traveled with Luward, so they told her the name of their destination as well as providing a map, allowing her to leave the evening of the same day Luward came to the bathhouse. It would take her two days to go there and back, so she would be gone for about four days total.

Luward and the others, who had taken five days just to travel to the bathhouse, were clearly envious of her good legs.

Luward and the others left the day after, and while it was not a very exciting reunion, Lawrence was glad to see them since one never knew where and when something might happen in the mercenary line of work.

On the other hand, he and Hanna were the only workers left in the bathhouse, so he had no choice but to explain the situation to the guests. Selim had to leave on short notice, and Holo was feeling under the weather so she was resting. He explained how regretful he was that there may be things they could not totally fulfill to the guests’ satisfaction.

Luckily, most of their guests were regulars, and they insisted they would be fine alone with just some drink and food. It seemed things would somehow turn out okay.

Fatigued, Lawrence saw Luward off and returned to the room for a moment, and Holo, waving Luward off from the window, turned to Lawrence with an accusing look.

“Did I not tell you so?”

For a moment, he was not sure what she was talking about, but there on the desk, along with the bunch of brushes, was the charm that Myuri had made.

“Is this what you meant by disaster?”

The answer to his question of why they could not use the hairs from her tail every year as wolf or bear repellant had become quite apparent.

Holo rested her chin in her hand on the windowsill and looked up at him, annoyed.

“I am Holo the Wisewolf. There is nothing in this land that can compare to my wit and charm. Those who carry amulets stuffed with bits of my fur would leave this place and stupefy male wolves in every land.”

Lawrence took it as an exaggeration at first, but that is exactly what happened with the charm that Myuri had made.

“The males with blood rushing to their head may perhaps follow the scent and end up at this bathhouse.”

Though stories of knights who surround a princess and all kneel before her were made up, this was not at all fiction.

“Then at the bathhouse, those good-for-nothings, like unsatisfied sheep, would push the weak wisewolf around. What do you think these males would do? In the laws of the forest, the strong are the just.”

He wanted to ask who exactly would be pushing around whom, but he could imagine the situation.

Regardless of the details, it would be fatal if there were wolves lurking around the bathhouse.

“That would be…a disaster.”

Lawrence spoke, and Holo sniffed in irritation.

“But…,” Lawrence said, continuing. “You should have gone, not Miss Selim.”

Myuri was the cause of their problems this time, and more importantly, Selim, who could hide her ears and tail, was working for the bathhouse, unlike Holo.

It was this moment that Holo looked sincerely dejected and heaved a great sigh.

“Fool.”

Then, just as she looked at the disappointed Lawrence, she stood up lazily and walked toward him.

Lawrence unconsciously tensed, but Holo embraced him, almost falling into him, and pushed him back onto the bed.

“H-hey!”

As Lawrence found himself flustered, thinking it odd she was so moody, Holo gripped him tighter with the arms she had wrapped around him and spoke.

“They are all so easily infatuated in this season. I cannot allow you to stay under the same roof alone with that girl.”

“What?”

Just as he was about to tell her that such a thing would never happen, she dug her nails into his back.

“The fool who wanted to present her with brushes without a second thought has no right to speak.”

Lawrence finally realized why Holo had criticized him when he wanted to give Selim a brush. He wanted to say how he had no ulterior motives, nor would Selim have taken it the wrong way, but in the end, he decided not to. This was not about how he felt but how Holo felt.

There was unexpected strife in life at the bathhouse after Myuri left, which he thought would be completely uneventful.

Holo, too, must have been insecure…but she was not.

As she was, she no longer had a reason to brush up on her motherly poise, so she must have been wanting to make selfish demands, pout, and act on her whims.

Holo was originally much more princess-like than Myuri.

“Well, I’ll apologize about the brushes. I wasn’t being very considerate.”

“As always,” Holo said with a muffled voice, her face still pressed against Lawrence’s chest.

“But about making those charms, it isn’t that bad, is it?”

Holo’s ears perked up.

She raised her head and looked up at him, and he smiled back.

“Don’t you want to see how awesome I’d look as I fight back all the male wolves all lined up, drawn in by your scent?”

Holo’s eyes widened, bearing her fangs in a grin.

“You used to shiver at a single distant howl when we lived on the road.”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“Hmm?”

“I’d muster up all my strength against the scariest opponents if it were for you.”

Holo shut her eyes, as if a sudden gust of wind blasted over her face, and her ears twitched.

Then she glued her cheek directly onto Lawrence’s chest.

“’Tis only your words that are so talented.”

“Then can I show you that it’s not only my words?”

Holo’s ears perked, and she twisted her body about. Either she was lonely alone in the room, or perhaps everyone was exceptionally susceptible to infatuation this time of year, as she had mentioned earlier. She was doting on him more than usual.

But Holo, who never said anything foolish, looked up at him with expectant eyes.

When their gazes met, Lawrence smiled, and when he saw an opening, he quickly pushed her off him.

As Holo rolled to the side like a little child, Lawrence quickly stood up.

She stared blankly at him in surprise.

“The scariest for me is the bathhouse going in the red. I have to face it, okay?”

When Holo realized she had been tricked, she flushed unusually scarlet, grabbed a pillow stuffed with wheat husks, and threw it at him.

Lawrence caught it easily and placed it gently on the bed.

“Well, I’m back to work, but you stay put here.”

Holo was curled up on the bed, perhaps vexed, and her tail puffed up as she spoke.

“You fool!”

It was just another day at the bathhouse, one where nothing happened.