Sugar Apple Fairytale - Volume 2 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

WHEN THE SNOW FALLS

Anne felt something cold fall gently onto the tip of her nose. She looked up to see gray clouds, hung low and spreading out across the sky. Snowflakes fluttered down from above in ones and twos.

“Snow… Alas, it’s snowing,” Anne mumbled pessimistically, rooted to the spot. By contrast, a small fairy danced with joy up on the roof of the wagon that was parked behind her.

“Wow! It’s snow. I love snow! It’s so pretty, huh? Isn’t it, Anne?!”

The fairy’s blue eyes sparkled. Born from a drop of lake water, he was named Mithril Lid Pod.

“What will we do…?”

“What is there to do? It’s so beautiful!”

“This is terrible…”

Mithril was frolicking happily, while Anne was sinking into despair. Neither of them was paying attention to the other’s disposition. But luckily, one member of their party remained composed: another fairy, lying stretched out across the seat of the cart, long legs dangling over the side.

“Not that I really care, but how about giving your customers their goods?” he said, sitting up.

Anne blinked and looked back at the young woman standing in front of her.

“Ah! I’m sorry, I spaced out. So…uh…?”

The woman, dressed in a luxurious fur cape, was not looking at Anne. Rather, she was staring blankly at the driver’s seat of the wagon.

Anne let out a quiet sigh and glanced over her shoulder to where the young woman had directed her gaze.

Oh well. I suppose next to him, everything else looks dull.

The woman was staring at the fairy, who had now sat up on the wagon. He had glossy black hair and black eyes. The obsidian fairy was cold and lovely in appearance, like falling snow. Fluttering snowflakes landed on his eyelashes. In spite of herself, Anne was captivated by the sight, too.

…Beautiful.

But this fairy had a sharp tongue.

“Scarecrow. Hurry up and give her the merchandise.”

Anne’s fascination broke the instant he called her scarecrow.

“Challe! I told you not to call me that!”

“Well, hurry up, then, slowpoke.”

After those few words, the obsidian fairy Challe Fenn Challe lay back down again.

Anne pulled herself together and addressed the still-dumbfounded young woman in an especially loud voice.

“Ahem!”

“Huh, ah, oh.”

At the sound of her voice, the woman snapped out of it and looked back at her.

Anne smiled with relief. “Here you go. Your total is two cress.”

She carefully presented a large sugar candy to the young woman.

Its flashy design consisted of a bundle of multicolored spring flowers. The arrangement and colors had been cleverly thought out so that the different types of blossoms would not clash with one another. The young woman had commissioned it from Anne a week earlier.

She had asked for “a magnificent candy sculpture, a bouquet with at least ten kinds of flowers.”

Candy made from silver sugar is used in all sorts of ceremonies. It drives away misfortune and invites joy. It is a sacred food, and it is said to hold “the promise of sweet happiness.” The more beautiful the form, the greater the joy that will come.

Anne was a candy crafter who made such sweets.

The expression on the young woman’s face when she saw the candy was proof of Anne’s skill.

“Isn’t it wonderful?”

The woman seemed surprised as she said those simple words. Then she looked back over her shoulder at the fairy she had brought with her. He was slender and elegant and youthful, and he was just a little bit taller than the woman. He looked unspeakably frail.

“You. Carry that sugar candy.”

The docile-looking fairy did as he was told and took it from Anne’s hands.

The fairy sounded deeply impressed when he said, “Of all the candy sculptures prepared for my lady’s birthday these past several years, this one is the best.”

The young woman answered curtly, “I suppose. All right, here’s your fee. You’d better accept it.”

With the clinking of pocket change, the woman dropped ten copper coins into Anne’s hand. Anne cocked her head.

“Um, the fee is two cress. You’re still one cress short.”

“That should be plenty.”

“Huh? We agreed upon two cress.”

“I commissioned you because I heard rumors about your skill, but you aren’t a real Silver Sugar Master, are you? Around these parts, only a Silver Sugar Master can expect to make more than one cress. That’s the most an ordinary candy crafter makes. Take it and be glad.”

“But! A promise is a promise!”

The young woman smiled placidly as Anne tried to protest.

“Oh my. In that case, I suppose I don’t have to buy it at all.”

When she said that, Anne’s words caught in her throat.

If the woman didn’t buy her candy, all the silver sugar and hard work that had gone into it would be totally wasted.

“Hey, hey, hey! Human lady! From what I could hear, you sound mighty stingy. I, the great Mithril Lid Pod, cannot keep quiet about this…”

Atop the wagon roof, Mithril shouted and started rolling up his sleeves.

“Hush, Mithril Lid Pod. Things will only get worse if you get involved.”

Challe interrupted Mithril’s shouting. Then he sat up on the driver’s seat again.

“What did you say?! Don’t sound all high and mighty when you’re just lazing around!”

“You kicking up a fuss isn’t helping things, either.”

“Excuse you—!!”

Ignoring Mithril’s clamor, Challe alighted from the wagon. The single wing on his back was like translucent silk. He walked over to Anne with slightly weary, deliberate movements. Even those listless steps had an elegant charm to them.

“Do you want to take it back?” Challe asked quietly.

His hushed voice had a dangerous ring to it. His wing glowed with a cold silver brilliance.

“I can get your candy back and make her pay the two cress as well. What do you want to do?”

Perhaps as a fellow fairy, the one accompanying the young woman sensed Challe’s strength and threatening aura. The single wing on his back shuddered.

“I don’t know what you’re planning to do, but I can tell it won’t be very nice, whatever it is.”

“That depends on what you do next,” Challe warned matter-of-factly.

Frankly, Anne didn’t want to sell her wares to a customer like this. But she had made the candy sculpture to fulfill the young woman’s order. She felt that turning her down and selling the piece to someone else would be like foisting secondhand goods on them. It would be discourteous to whoever bought it.

Anne hated the idea of matching the woman’s unscrupulous actions with underhanded behavior of her own, as Challe had suggested.

She shook her head. “No… Challe, it’s fine.”

She needed money at the moment, however little. Anne turned back toward the young woman and looked her directly in the eye.

“What? Have you got something else to say?” asked the woman.

“No. Very well. One cress will do. You may take it.”

Anne stared at the young woman, who flinched for a second. Then she snorted, putting on a brave front. She turned her back to Anne and quickly walked away.

Before he left, the fairy accompanying the woman fearfully averted his gaze from Challe. “I’m sorry,” he apologized quietly, bowing to Anne. Then he quickly chased after his mistress.

The figures of the young woman and her fairy grew distant in the lightly falling snow.

Their path was hemmed in on both sides by walls of red brick; it was a narrow alleyway. The passage meandered before sloping upward. At the top was the town’s shopping district, set along a broad avenue paved with cobblestones. Both sides of the street were lined with shops that had wide front windows. Anne thought the young woman must have hailed from a family that owned one of those stores.

About ten years ago, the town had begun to flourish when it became a stop on a trading route for wool manufactured in the North. Now it had developed into a huge city, the second biggest after Lewiston, the royal capital.

This was Westol, the capital of Charmae Province.

Charmae was adjacent to Harrington Province, where Lewiston was located. Charmae was governed by the Earl of Downing, an elder statesman who had displayed his tact during the reign of the previous monarch.

Anne dropped the copper coins into the pocket of her dress. Then she shrugged, feeling dejected.

“I should have known it would be hard selling silver sugar candy without being a Silver Sugar Master. We’re right in the Silver Sugar Viscount’s backyard, after all.”

“That’s right, dammit! That arsehole, Hugh.”

Mithril glowered in the direction of the shopping district.

Wearing a worried expression, Anne grumbled, “Well…Hugh isn’t necessarily to blame, though…”

Hugh was the name of the current Silver Sugar Viscount, that being the title given to the Silver Sugar Master who worked exclusively for the king. The Viscount is considered the pinnacle of all candy crafters, including the Silver Sugar Masters.

Anne had become acquainted with Hugh by chance about two months ago. He had helped her in her quest to become a Silver Sugar Master.

Ultimately, however, she had not been able to become one.

Above the rows of houses lining the shopping district, Anne could see the spire of Westol Castle, the provincial governor’s residence. It was probably a watchtower. Shifting her gaze west from the spire built of black rock, she could make out another almost identical tower constructed of pale stone.

Across a small lake stood a white structure, an exact copy of Westol Castle. It was named Silver Westol Castle and was granted to the Silver Sugar Viscount.

“There’s no way we can camp outside tonight, is there?”

Snow was falling continuously from the sky. The ground beneath the soles of Anne’s shoes was hard, and it was beginning to freeze. The sun set quickly in winter, and it was already growing dark.

The snow might stick tonight.

Anne pulled her cape tight over her dress.

Crafted from tanned leather and lined with feathers, the cloak was embossed with designs of various plants. It was a top-quality garment and exceptionally effective at retaining heat. It was much too luxurious for someone of Anne’s standing.

“This cape is a lifesaver. I’ll have to thank Kat again.”

Anne had acquired the cloak in Lewiston, just before coming to Westol. She’d happened to encounter an eccentric Silver Sugar Master, a young man who went by the nickname Kat, who had asked her for help with a job. He’d given her the cape as a reward.

Anne’s journey had become much easier thanks to the garment.

The fairies didn’t feel cold, so they weren’t affected by the chilly winter. They would probably be fine camping out in the snow. Yet even with her cloak, it would be impossible for Anne to spend the night exposed to the elements.

“Let’s go, Challe, Mithril. We’ll have to stay at an inn tonight. I need to find someplace cheap.”

As she spoke, Anne turned toward her old horse-drawn wagon.

That wagon had once been hijacked, but she’d later found it abandoned on the outskirts of Lewiston. Anne had traveled with her mother for fifteen years in that wagon, and it held many memories. Though it was old and shabby, she had been overjoyed to get it back.

Anne took the horse by the bridle without getting up on the driver’s seat.

In the opposite direction from the shops, she headed down the alleyway. The ground sloped gently downward, and the road gradually broadened.

“Hooray! We’re staying at an inn! I love watching the snow fall through the window,” Mithril said from the roof in a cheerful tone.

Anne smiled. “Me too. When you watch snow from a warm room, you can enjoy the beauty of it without feeling the cold.”

Pulling the horse along, Anne moved the carriage slowly. Once she started walking, Challe came up beside her and asked, “What about money? Do you have enough?”

He was acting nonchalant, but Challe knew how little money Anne had on hand, and she could tell he was worried for her.

Anne’s earnings were meager. Few customers were willing to buy sugar candy from a fifteen-year-old girl who was not even a Silver Sugar Master. She did have customers who were aware of her skill and would place orders from time to time. Even so, people often struck a hard bargain, like the woman earlier.

“Leave it to me… Actually, I don’t have enough to say that. That’s why it’s got to be a cheap inn.”

I’m not really looking for luxury. As long as it keeps us out of the cold, any inn will do.

But it’ll be Pure Soul Day in just over a month. And then the end of the year will be upon us…

The temperature would continue dropping by the day. She needed to find lodging to stay out of the cold for the rest of winter.

On top of that, Anne would soon have to get started on making her Pure Soul Day sugar candy to send her departed mother off to heaven. She wanted to secure accommodations and get settled in if possible, then spend time making something spectacular.

Moreover, she hoped she could hunker down and spend New Year’s Eve in her lodgings.

She wanted to do it for her companions, Mithril and Challe. Even if it wasn’t much, she hoped they could enjoy a pleasant holiday. Anne wanted the three of them to celebrate the New Year comfortably together.

Well, all of that requires money, huh?

Anne thought about her meager savings and felt miserable.

“Shall I earn us some cash?” Challe asked suddenly.

Anne’s eyes went wide at the unexpected words. “Earn money? How?”

“I’ve got my ways.”

“You’re not thinking of doing something dangerous?!”

“Do you really think I’m that savage? Do I look like I might go and mug someone?”

Challe gave Anne a look of displeasure.

The fairy did seem like he could calmly commit robbery. But Anne couldn’t say that, so she answered with a stiff smile.

“I don’t think that at all, no. But as far as your special skills go, you’re good at being violent.”

“I can make a fair amount of cash by searching out humans with time and money to spare and renting myself to them for the night.”

Challe said the unthinkable as if it were no big deal. Anne went pale.

“Wh-wh-wh-what are you saying?! Do you understand the meaning of what you just said?! You’re talking about selling yourself!”

“Indeed.”

“No, not ‘indeed’! I would never ask you to do something like that, even if my life was at stake. You absolutely mustn’t, Challe!!”

“Why not?”

He asked the question earnestly, and Anne blushed. That wasn’t something to ask a fifteen-year-old girl.

Anne wondered what on Earth had become of Challe’s sense of virtue. Perhaps one forgot the very notion when they’d lived over a hundred years. In fact, she often wondered about the things he might have experienced in that time. She could only imagine, and the color drained from her face. Anne didn’t even want to think of such things.

As she blanched, Mithril tutted and wagged his finger with a smug look on his face.

“How can you ask why, Challe Fenn Challe? Honestly, guys like you who don’t understand women’s hearts could never have a human partner.”

“Understanding wouldn’t change anything.”

“Nooo way, you’re wrong.”

“It’s all the same.”

“It is not, and both of you are missing the point!!”

Anne shouted with all her might.

“This is a question of dignity! Anyway, let me worry about money. Challe, you don’t have to concern yourself over it. Actually, don’t even think about it! Please!”

Challe looked a little shocked at Anne’s declaration.

“You’re very stubborn.”

It wasn’t exactly stubbornness. Anne was worn out.

If Challe had offered to make money by baking and selling bread, or repairing shoes, she probably would have accepted his help. But she had a hunch that his moneymaking schemes were all too dreadful to consider.

Anne made it down the hill. There were redbrick buildings standing here and there in ones and twos, with large gaps between them. In the open spaces, broken-down vehicles and farm equipment lay in piles.

Anne looked around, and her eyes settled on one of the buildings.

It was long and stood at two stories tall. Beside it was a stable with a simple roof. Hanging from the structure’s brick wall was a wooden signboard carved with a design featuring hats and boots advertising lodgings.

The establishment was unmistakably an inn, but it seemed awfully shabby. The tiles on the eaves were falling apart and seemed like they might slide off in an avalanche at any moment. But Anne was in no position to expect luxury.

She parked her wagon beside the stable. Accompanied by Challe and Mithril, she entered the inn.

The bar-cum-dining-room on the first floor had a musty smell to it, a mixture of dust and old cooking oil.

Behind the counter was the bone-thin, bald proprietor. When Anne asked him about the prices, he answered that the cost was thirty bayn per person per night. He closely scrutinized Challe.

A night’s stay would cost ninety bayn for the three of them. The single cress that Anne had just earned would basically disappear.

Her remaining funds did not even total two cress.

Even so, there was no way they could camp out in the snow. With the money she had currently, they could keep out of the elements at this inn for three days. Anne resolved to earn more during that time and requested a room.

The room she was shown to was dark. The wooden window frame was nailed shut and would not open.

Moreover, there was only a single bed, and it filled the whole space. The room was so small that Anne and Challe had to twist their bodies around just to move past each other as they looked down at the bed.

“I can’t see a thing through the window…,” Mithril grumbled, sounding disappointed.

“Sorry. We’ll stay at a nicer place if I ever get my hands on some money.”

Anne looked around the room as she spoke. The corpse of a huge spider was lying on the floor under the bed. Disgusted, she shuddered slightly.

Just then, she heard someone hesitantly knocking at their door.

“Yes?”

Once Anne answered, the door opened slowly. Timidly peeking in was an old woman. She was completely covered from head to toe by a plain woolen shawl. Anne had seen her before.

“Ma’am? I believe we met a couple of weeks ago?”

Just after Anne arrived in Westol, the old woman had placed an order for sugar candy. This was two weeks before she’d received the commission from the merchant’s daughter who had come to retrieve her candy sculpture earlier in the day. The old woman was supposed to have picked up her candy two weeks ago, but she had not appeared on the appointed day.

With no alternative, Anne still had the candy she had made for the woman sitting in her wagon.

“I saw your wagon outside. The innkeeper told me you were in this room. I’m sorry for being so late, dear.”

The old woman fished ten copper coins from the pocket of her threadbare dress.

“One cress, as we agreed. I’ve got it right here.”

“Great! Thank you, ma’am.”

Anne gratefully accepted the money.

“Your sugar candy is in the wagon. Why don’t we go downstairs together? After I give it to you, we can get a little something to eat.”

Thanks to the extra income, Anne had a bit more breathing room now. She had expected to gnaw on some dried berries before bed that night, but with another cress in her pocket, she felt she could afford to have some soup.

The bar-cum-dining-room was quiet, with only two or three groups of customers. Anne left the old woman and the two fairies to wait there and went to get the sugar candy from her wagon.

“What do you think of this? Per your order, it’s a pair of snow birds.”

The candy sculpture depicted two white birds with slim, delicate legs. Their long necks curved gently downward, and their beaks were pressed together as if they were whispering to each other.

Snow birds are migratory. They fly from the continent to the Kingdom of Highland at the beginning of winter. And once these birds choose a mate, they never change partners, and they live the rest of their lives as a pair. They are a motif favored by lovers and couples.

The innkeeper and the other customers stared at the candy sculpture Anne had carried in with surprise. The workmanship on the finely etched feathers drew their eyes.

The old woman nodded repeatedly, looking pleased.

“It’s beautiful. Yes, lovely. My husband told me he wanted snow birds. This is wonderful.”

“Is it a present for him or something?” Anne asked innocently.

The old woman smiled sadly.

“No, this is for Pure Soul Day. My husband always told me that for the year he died, he wanted a snow bird candy sculpture for Pure Soul Day. But every candy crafter I talked to told me it would be impossible to make for under a cress. So I decided to sell my ring to pull together at least one cress. But I just couldn’t sell it for the price I expected to get. I’m so sorry for being late. You were the only one who would accept my commission at the lowest cost for a candy sculpture in Westol. Thank you for making something so beautiful for so little.”

Mithril clicked his tongue when he heard that one cress was the minimum market price for a candy sculpture.

“I can’t believe that rich lady. She lied and bought Anne’s candy for a rock-bottom price!”

Anne also realized what the merchant’s daughter had done to her when she heard the old woman’s words.

However, she was more concerned about the circumstances of the customer in front of her, who was gazing lovingly at the candy sculpture.

The old woman’s dress was worn out around the cuffs and hem and covered in stains. Her woolen shawl was pilling and thin. Despite her shabby clothes, she had always worn her ring. It must have been very important to her. Yet she’d had to sell it in order to afford the candy for her dead husband.

The woman’s fingers, knotted and gnarled like a withered tree, looked like they were in pain. Her body was thin, and it wasn’t difficult to imagine that she rarely ate.

“Well then, I’ll be taking this with me.”

The old woman stood up. As she did, Anne quickly fished five copper coins from her dress pocket.

“Ah, I almost forgot. Wait a minute, ma’am. Here’s your change.”

She pressed them into the old woman’s hand.

Mithril shouted in surprise.

“Anne?!”

Cradling the sugar candy sculpture in one arm, the old woman looked at Anne with slight confusion.

“Oh, but I only gave you one cress, right?”

“I miscalculated the amount of silver sugar I needed to use. This piece of candy only costs fifty bayn.”

“Wait, but it’s so big…and besides, the minimum price—”

“I’m not a Silver Sugar Master, so I don’t make candies that cost that much. And I don’t live in Westol, so the market price doesn’t mean anything to me. Please, take your change.”

Anne’s broad smile clued the old woman in to what was going on. Looking apologetic, she tucked the coins into her dress pocket and whispered, “Thank you so much. I can buy a month’s worth of grain with this.”

Anne watched the woman leave the inn with slow steps, then sat down in a chair. Half of her thought that she had just done something foolish, while the other half was happy with her decision.

Challe was sitting across from her. When she glanced at his face, he looked like he had something to say.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Keeping his legs crossed and his chin in his hands, Challe abruptly averted his gaze.

I bet he wanted to call me stupid or tell me how brainless that was.

Anne looked up at the ceiling. She understood the consequences of her actions, and she was fine with it.

Mithril, however, was a different story. He hopped up on the table, eyebrows raised.

“Anne! Why would you give back half your payment?!”

Anne shifted her gaze to Mithril and smiled.

“You misunderstand. That sugar candy was really worth fifty bayn.”

“You’re lying, you dummy! If you keep doing things like that, you’ll starve to death!”

“It’s fine,” Anne insisted. “I’ll get proper payment from my wealthier customers.”

“It is not fine!” Mithril sternly thrust his index finger at her. “I’ve been saying this for a while, but you need to be more conscious of your current financial situation! Do you think you’re in a position to be concerned about that old lady? You’ve only got about three cress to your name…”

Before Mithril could launch into a lecture, something smacked the back of his head.

It was Challe, who had struck him with an open palm.

“Ow! What are you doing? Who slaps somebody in the head?”

“I could flick you instead if you would prefer.”

“But I’m tiny; a flick from you would kill me instantly!”

“Probably, yeah.”

“You knew that and suggested it anyway?! You’re a monster!”

“You made me say it. Pipe down. You’re making a scene.”

Challe had a pointed look in his eye. Mithril and Anne followed his gaze to the innkeeper, who was standing behind the bar counter.

The proprietor was wearing an unpleasant grin. He set down the plate he had been wiping, came out from behind the counter, and walked over to the table where Anne and the fairies were sitting.

“Say, miss. Are you sure you’ve got enough money to pay the lodging fees?”

In contrast to the professional demeanor he’d maintained earlier, he was acting overly familiar now.

“I sure do—the full amount. One person is thirty bayn, so it’s ninety bayn per night for the three of us.”

“Fraid not. I’m sure I told you earlier that it’s five cress per person per night.”

Anne was dumbfounded at his words.

“You never said that. I know you told me it was thirty bayn each per night.”

“You must have misheard me. It’s five cress.”

“That’s an outrageous price!”

“Oh, didn’t you know? Hotel charges for high-end places like this typically run four or five cress a night. That price is perfectly reasonable. It’s not so ridiculous that I would get punished by the governor, even if you filed a complaint.”

“Then we won’t stay here. We’re leaving.”

“That’s fine, but I’ll have to collect a cancellation fee. You already went into the room, after all. The cancellation fee is five cress.”

Anne lost her cool. She stood up and in a harsh voice shouted at him, “If you’re going to be that crooked, I really will complain to the governor!”

The innkeeper shrugged. “Go right ahead. It’s your fault for mishearing me. I have every legal right to collect a cancellation fee. You’re the one who’ll be thrown in jail for the crime of trying to stay in an inn even though you have no money.”

Why is the owner being so mean?

Anne couldn’t understand it. But his cruel words still stung.

Anne scowled at him as hard as she could, and the innkeeper cackled.

“Don’t make such a scary face, little lady. I’m not a bad guy. I’m prepared to overlook your mistake. I’ll let you stay here just for tonight. But in exchange, you hand over that pet fairy to me. If you do that, I’ll forget about the fee for one night’s stay.”

He was staring at Challe as he said that.

The fairy didn’t so much as twitch. He was, however, glaring at the innkeeper with contempt.

Anne finally grasped the proprietor’s ulterior motive.

Challe was like a top-rated gemstone. There could be no doubt that the innkeeper had been appraising him from the beginning, estimating how much the fairy would sell for.

The innkeeper was up against a single young girl. He assumed he would have no difficulty threatening or coaxing her and could easily confiscate her pet fairy.

He would overcharge her for the room, just to the limits of what was reasonable. Even though the amount was within the standard range, he’d heard from Mithril that Anne was unable to pay it. In the unlikely event that she complained, he could dismiss any accusations by claiming that his prices were reasonable.

Challe spread his palm out quietly on top of the table, a blank look on his face. Beads of light began to gather there. His beauty convinced people otherwise, but Challe was no pet. He was a warrior, skilled in combat. The fairy could stand against ten human warriors with ease when he conjured his magical sword.

And the light gathering in his hand signified he was about to do just that.

Anne was boiling with anger at the craven innkeeper.

Hand over Challe? What does he think Challe is?

As she fumed, the hem of her dress fluttered gently in the cold breeze. But she was too focused to pay it any mind.

Only Challe looked calmly in the direction of the front door, where the breeze had come from. Frowning slightly, he stopped the conjuring process with a nimble shake of his hand and remained calmly seated in his chair.

“I know what you’re after, your little scheme. But too bad for you! He doesn’t work for me, and I don’t control him. It’s not up to me to decide whether I give him over or not in the first place! He goes where he likes of his own volition, and he doesn’t go where he doesn’t want to.”

Anne slapped her hand down on the table with great force.

“I won’t let you talk about Challe like he’s an object!”

“That’s right! If you tried to put a twisted guy like this to work, you’d regret it like crazy!”

Mithril chimed in too, shouting earnestly, as was his way.

“What are you talking about, young lady? The things you’re saying don’t make any sense. Anyway, all you have to do is hand over the wing of that pet fairy.”

“It’s not mine to give up! The wing is Challe’s.”

“I don’t need to hear any more whining from you, little girl. Give it here!”

Showing his true nature at last, the innkeeper lunged at Anne threateningly.

“That’s far enough.”

A cold, metallic voice came from behind the proprietor. Then a silver blade quickly came to rest against the base of his neck, its elegant arc gently curving around and over his shoulder.

The innkeeper gasped at the sudden appearance of the blade.

“Wh-what is this? What on Earth?”

Equally surprised, Anne glanced behind the innkeeper.

Standing there was a tanned young man with silver eyes and white hair, holding a gently curved sword in his hand. He had a limber-looking body, like that of a big predatory feline. His peculiar appearance wasn’t easily forgotten.

“Oh…it’s you! Salim, if I remember correctly…?”

Mithril, too, looked up at the man, flabbergasted.

Salim smiled slightly.

“Good evening. It’s been a while. So we meet again, Anne.”

“Why are you here…? Wait, if you’re here, then that means—”

Just then, someone embraced her from behind, wrapping her in strong, sturdy arms.

“Hey! It’s been a while, Anne. Getting into trouble like usual, huh?”

Startled by his jovial voice, Anne craned her neck to see who it was.

“Hugh?!”

The young man hugging her had messy brown hair that he’d carelessly combed back. He wore a simple but well-tailored jacket. His smiling brown eyes brimmed with a mixture of charm and wildness.

“You’re still so small and skinny.”

As he said that, Hugh ruffled Anne’s barley-colored hair.

Anne was overcome with surprise at the pair’s sudden entrance.

But Challe seemed like he had already been well aware of their presence. He sat there calmly, his chin resting in his hands.

“So you go around waltzing into places like this? You must have a lot of time on your hands.”

At Challe’s snide comment, Hugh flashed him a big grin.

“No, no, we just popped in. Today’s been so busy, my head was spinning. You could try being the tiniest bit enthusiastic or grateful, couldn’t you, Challe? You noticed when we came in but completely ignored us.”

As he spoke, Hugh squeezed Anne tightly.

“You’re going to snap the scarecrow in half. Let her go.”

“Oh? Are you jealous?”

“Who’s jealous? Of whom?”

Challe seemed openly displeased.

Anne’s mind finally started working again. She realized that Hugh was pressing himself closely against her.

“Wah! Hugh?! Let go of me!”

Hugh readily opened his arms when Anne started flailing and struggling. Then he made a show of looking sad.

“You guys really have no respect for me at all, do you?”

Anne leaped back over to Challe’s side and grabbed on to his sleeve cuff as he sat there calmly.

The innkeeper, with Salim’s blade at his throat, asked in a quivering voice, “Wh-who are you people? Robbers…? Th-the governor’s men will surely arrest you for something like this!”

“The governor’s men? Ah, I’m pretty well acquainted with the old governor, so I think we’ll be fine.”

Hugh approached the innkeeper. His formerly playful expression was now serious.

“My name is Hugh Mercury. I bear the title of Silver Sugar Viscount,” he announced.

Young as he was, Hugh was indeed the current Silver Sugar Viscount.

When he heard that name, the innkeeper’s face paled.

“You know, the Earl of Downing is an old friend of mine. And he’s quite zealous about keeping public order in Westol. So he was troubled to hear rumors of a crooked inn that was ripping off timid-looking travelers. The old man said, ‘If there’s any proof, hand out capital punishment on the spot.’”

Hugh grinned.

“With me as a witness, well, the old man won’t have a word of complaint. Not even if I execute you right here and now.”

The other customers in the room stood up fearfully and fled to stand by the wall.

The proprietor’s legs began to tremble.

“Salim. Do it.”

Anne reflexively clapped both hands over her mouth when she heard the coldhearted order. Despite that, she shouted, “You can’t! Stop it!!”

The blade ran across the innkeeper’s throat.

He fell to his knees and collapsed on the floor. He lay still where he’d fallen.

“No…no way. I don’t care what the circumstances are; you can’t just execute someone that quickly…,” Anne muttered. She seemed like she might sink to the floor right then and there.

Challe stood up from his chair and supported her from the side.

“Scarecrow. Look carefully. He’s just passed out.”

Anne heard Challe’s voice from above her head.

As he instructed, she looked closely at the fallen innkeeper. His eyes were rolled back, and he was lying with one cheek against the floor, but there was only a slight break in the skin at the base of his neck. It looked like he had just fainted out of fear.

This time, Anne clung to Challe’s arm in relief.

Hugh gave further orders to Salim as he put his sword away.

“Salim. Summon the nearby guards. Hand this guy over to them. Once you’re done with that, go back to the castle.”

Salim nodded and left through the front door. After watching him go, Hugh rolled his head in gentle circles, as if to shake off his grim mood. Then he turned to Anne again.

“Sorry about that, Anne. Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“What the…? Hugh…what are you doing here? Are you on patrol?”

“Nope. Actually, I don’t have that kind of authority. I’m just the Silver Sugar Viscount,” he said nonchalantly. “I just happened to run into you, so I thought I’d deal with that guy. I heard rumors that a young candy crafter had appeared in Westol with an unbelievably beautiful fairy in her company. I thought she sounded familiar, so I came looking, that’s all. Especially since it’s snowing tonight. I figured you wouldn’t be camping out, and I thought I’d find you pretty easily if I checked all the inns.”

Then Hugh bowed low, like an actor in a drama.

“I’ve searched far and wide for you, Miss Anne Halford. Allow me to invite you to Silver Westol Castle.”