Sugar Apple Fairytale - Volume 2 - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A FORCED GOOD-BYE

A bell rang downstairs.

It happened the same day that Anne had moved into her room in the castle tower. Jonas rang his bell that evening. He must have gotten impatient after her arrival. There were sounds of someone entering Jonas’s room immediately and then leaving again.

Anne wasn’t sure what she would do if Jonas finished his sculpture first and it was accepted by the Duke of Philax. The thought made her anxious. Still, morning arrived with no further movement from below.

Neither did an order for Anne to stop working on her sugar candy and leave.

So she continued laboring on her sculpture through the day. The sun rose high in the sky as she worked with Mithril’s help.

She was surprised to hear the bell downstairs ring again.

“That was Jonas, wasn’t it?” she said, looking up from her work. “He finished one piece last night, and now another one? Maybe he fixed some spots that were pointed out to him, or something like that? I wonder if he beat me to it?”

Anne had been thinking about ringing her own bell very soon. Naturally, she was nervous.

Mithril saw Anne looking anxious and stood up.

“Okay! The great Mithril will lend a hand!”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll go take a peek.”

Mithril discreetly tied his personal pocket handkerchief around his head and sneaked out of the room.

Anne wondered how Jonas’s sculpture had turned out. Eager to know, she waited impatiently for Mithril to return when Challe came back from his walk. Mithril was dangling from his right hand, struggling violently.

“Let me go! Let go, Challe Fenn Challe!”

Anne’s eyes went wide. “Challe, what are you doing with Mithril?”

He let go of Mithril’s shirt collar. The tiny fairy flopped to the floor and shrieked.

“I was on my way back from my walk and happened to run across him just as he was about to go into Jonas’s room,” Challe explained. “He looked like he was planning to do something strange, so I grabbed him.”

“I wasn’t going to do anything weird at all! I was just gonna play a little prank. I thought I would ring the bell to signal he was done, that’s all!”

Mithril was sitting on the floor with his arms crossed, and he turned away from Challe in a huff.

“You said you were only going to take a peek! Were you really planning on pranking him?!” Anne shouted in surprise.

Jonas was a jerk, but Anne didn’t approve of getting that kind of comeuppance.

Mithril stood up, looking a little panicked. “No, wait, Anne! Don’t misunderstand me! I really did go just to get a look. But Jonas looked super bummed out, so I got excited. I thought I would kick him while he was down.”

“You got excited to kick him while he was down…? That’s even worse, isn’t it…?” Anne mumbled.

Challe said, “She’s right. If you’re going to do something, forget about little pranks and cut right to serious measures.”

“What do you mean by that?! Pranks are bad enough, but surely, any decent person could recognize doing something serious is worse!”

When she said that, Mithril and Challe glanced at each other. And then—

“We’re not people.”

They said it in unison.

Anne put her head in her hand, disappointed.

“Ah, right… Let’s just…drop it.”

She gave up on scolding the two fairies.

“But if Jonas was down in the dumps, maybe that means his sugar candy didn’t please the duke.”

When Anne said that, Mithril folded his arms again and nodded enthusiastically. “I think that’s absolutely what it means. Furthermore, he had bruises on his face. He must have had a little lover’s quarrel with Cathy. A stupendous state of affairs!”

Challe looked suspicious of what Mithril was saying.

Anne cocked her head. “Would Cathy do something like that?”

She couldn’t imagine Cathy raising a hand against Jonas when she was his biggest supporter. She decided Jonas had probably just fallen on the stairs or in his room.

“So. Is your candy sculpture finished?” Challe asked.

Anne looked at her own work, which was standing behind her.

“Mm. I think it’s ready.”

“Should I give the signal?” Mithril grabbed the cord happily.

In truth, Anne felt like she hadn’t quite grasped what the duke meant by “improving her precision.” She had taken it to mean she should include more detailed sugar work, so she had increased the draping of the fairy’s dress and added an openwork pattern to the hem.

She worried that complicating the piece any further would destroy the overall composition. So she nodded with determination.

“Go ahead.”

When Mithril pulled the cord, the sound of the bell echoed through Anne’s room and the corridor outside and off into the distance somewhere. Before long, Anne heard stiff shoes coming up the stairs.

Without a knock, the door to her room opened.

“The duke…?”

There stood the Duke of Philax, Duke Alburn himself. He was accompanied by a page running behind him, but Anne had never imagined he would suddenly come to such a dreary room. It seemed preposterous.

In a panic, she knelt down on the floor and lowered her head. But Duke Alburn didn’t even look at Anne or anything else in the room. He went straight to the workbench and examined the candy sculpture.

Anne kept her head bowed and strained her eyes trying to see the duke’s reaction.

She could see the duke’s hands. He was clenching his fists, as if to contain a great anger.

“It hasn’t changed,” Duke Alburn grumbled.

“Ah…”

Anne lifted her head, unsure of the meaning of his words.

Duke Alburn looked at Anne. There was a hint of rage in his eyes.

“Didn’t you listen to what I said? I ordered you to sculpt the fairy painted in the portraits. And I also ordered you, yesterday, to improve your accuracy. This is the same as yesterday. Nothing has changed. Neither you nor the candy crafter downstairs understand a thing.”

That was all he said, then he immediately turned on his heel and left. Anne was stunned.

“What does that mean?”

What is he dissatisfied with?

Challe Fenn Challe was leaning back against the wall, staring at the sugar candy Anne had made.

Anne had been worrying nonstop about what was wrong with her sculpture. She had been sitting in front of it since midday, staring at it without moving. Then she’d rushed through dinner and then sat down before the candy again. She’d only realized it was dark when Mithril lit the lamp. She had thanked him for doing so but then resumed scrutinizing her candy sculpture.

Challe could understand Anne’s confusion.

As far as he could tell, the first piece that Anne had made showed near-perfect workmanship. She couldn’t add more detail than she had put into it already. Its form was perfect. The balance would be destroyed if she added or subtracted anything.

He couldn’t tell why Duke Alburn was so displeased.

Mithril was also sitting by the window with a serious look on his face, waiting patiently for Anne to collect her thoughts. He didn’t seem to be winning the fight against sleep, though, and was dozing off.

“Maybe I should try sculpting it from a different angle…”

It was past midnight when Anne muttered these few words. Suddenly, she stood up.

“If I tinker with this sculpture any more, the whole thing will fall apart and be worthless, even if I do improve my precision. I’ll make another one…something more realistic…,” she muttered.

Anne snatched the lamp off the table and was about to head out the door.

“Trying to get lost?”

When Challe called out to her, Anne seemed to snap out of it with a start and turned back toward him.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I’m going to take another look at the portrait of that fairy. If I remember correctly, it should be in the reception hall. I’ll look at it again and then alter the orientation of my sculpture to be more realistic.”

“So you think you can make it there without getting lost?”

When he asked, Anne made an expression of surprise, then hung her head.

“That’s right… I forgot…”

Then she looked at Challe apologetically.

“I know it’s the middle of the night, but would you come with me? Would that be okay?”

“Let’s go.”

Challe moved away from the wall and took the lamp from Anne’s hands. He led the way to the reception hall.

The hall was, of course, pitch-black. In the darkness, Challe held the light of the lantern up to the portrait.

It was cold, and Anne was hugging her shoulders. She could even see her own breath.

As he gazed at the portrait of the fairy wearing a gentle smile, Challe had a sudden thought. “Perhaps the Duke of Philax isn’t asking for a splendid work of sugar art?” he wondered aloud.

Anne looked up at Challe in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“If all he wanted was a magnificent piece of candy, your sculpture should have satisfied him perfectly well.”

“But the duke isn’t satisfied. The piece I made wasn’t what he wanted.”

When Anne turned her gaze back to the portrait, she stared at it intently, as if challenging it to a fight. Her face somehow looked more mature than usual.

The following morning, Anne started working again. Over the next five days, she made a new sugar candy sculpture.

It was just as large as the last one, but she completely changed the presentation.

She went down to stand in front of the portrait many times and drilled every detail of the fairy’s appearance into her mind. She made a work that was realistic in presentation, like a perfect three-dimensional copy of the portrait.

Anne thought this piece lacked the aesthetic appeal of her previous creation. Instead, it featured a vivid use of color and an emphasis on sharp lines, fitting stylistic choices for a realistic portrayal. Without those things, her sugar candy sculpture would have lacked focus and come across as incomplete.

After five days, Anne thought she was finished. But she decided to go look at the portrait to check one more time.

She’d already made dozens of trips to and from the reception hall, to the point that she knew how to get there without needing Challe’s guidance.

“I’m going to take a look at the picture, okay?” Anne said to Mithril, who was tidying up the table, before she left the room.

Challe had, as always, gone out for his walk.

It was twilight. Small windows ran along the staircase that spiraled around the interior of the tower. They let in the sea breeze, the light of the setting sun, and the smell of sea salt.

The chilly air brushed against her nape the moment Anne left her room, and she sneezed. She shivered, then began her descent.

When she did, the door to Jonas’s room opened, as if this had been perfectly timed to coincide with the moment Anne was passing by.

Jonas peeked out. His face was haggard.

For the past five days, Anne had not heard the bell ring from downstairs. So she had figured that Jonas must also be remaking his sculpture.

“Anne.”

He called out to her, so she came to a halt. This was unexpected.

“What?”

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean, what? I’m going to look at that portrait of the fairy.”

When she answered, Jonas made an expression of disbelief.

“Then that means you’re making a sculpture?”

“Of course I am. Aren’t you, Jonas?”

“I can’t make anything. I have absolutely no idea what his critiques mean. I’m ready to quit…”

Anne was surprised to hear his feeble whining.

“What are you talking about? Though it would help me out if you gave up.”

“Now’s the only time you’ll be able to say that!”

Jonas suddenly shouted in anger and shut the door. Before it closed, Anne caught sight of a blue bruise on his left cheek.

“Jonas?”

Anne was concerned about Jonas’s behavior. He seemed cornered. He had gone out of his way to stop Anne as she passed by and confided in her, despite the fact he considered her his enemy. She could only imagine that something serious had happened.

Perhaps he was asking for her help. She briefly considered taking the time to hear what he had to say and talk to him about whatever had happened.

But when she remembered the poor treatment she had received from Jonas in Lewiston, it seemed like she was being a hopeless, good-natured fool. She walked right on toward the reception hall.

Anne checked the portrait once more and went back to her room. Then she rang the bell to signal that she was finished.

As expected, Duke Alburn appeared.

After staring at the candy sculpture for a short while, scrutinizing it, the duke glared at Anne with blazing eyes. She could almost see the rage rising from his whole body like a cold mist.

“What is this that you have made?”

“It’s the fairy in the portrait.”

“Wrong. This is utterly incorrect.”

Anne was shocked at his words. She had never expected to receive such harsh criticism.

She had certainly made her sculpture more realistic than the last one. There was no way it was inexact.

That can’t be right. I made it exactly like the painting. What is he dissatisfied about?

She was confused. In spite of her better judgment, she asked, “Well then, what’s wrong about it? Please tell me.”

“Everything,” the duke answered.

“What do you mean by that? I checked the portrait countless times and copied it onto the sculpture exactly. The workmanship is delicate, and I added more detail, while arranging the overall balance so it would work as a piece of candy.”

“I mean what I said! The whole thing is wrong, no more, no less! This only looks like her; it’s just an imitation! I can’t stand the sight of it!” Duke Alburn shouted.

Then he suddenly knocked the candy sculpture off the bench.

For an instant, Anne stopped breathing as she watched her candy smash on the floor.

Anne couldn’t move. Between the shock of seeing the fruits of five days’ labor broken into pieces and the terror Duke Alburn had instilled in her after exploding in anger, she stood frozen to the spot.

“Make her. Make her real.”

Duke Alburn spat out those words and said nothing else as he left the room.

Anne sank to the floor in exhaustion. The stone floor should have been cold, but she didn’t feel it.

Mithril rushed over to Anne in a panic. He smacked her cheeks while she sat there in a daze.

“Anne, Anne, are you all right?! Get it together, Anne!”

“…My sugar candy…”

Gradually, tears welled up in her eyes.

“What happened here?”

There was a voice from the doorway. Anne slowly turned her head and saw Challe standing there. He had come back from his walk. He was making a stern face as he looked at Anne, slumped on the floor, and the smashed candy sculpture.

“Was this the Duke of Philax’s doing?” Challe asked Mithril.

When Mithril nodded, Challe looked like he understood the situation.

He walked calmly over to Anne and got down on one knee in front of her.

“You couldn’t raise a hand to stop him?”

His voice was monotonous, but even so, his concern for her came through perfectly well.

“…No.”

“The Duke of Philax wasn’t satisfied with your work?”

When Anne shook her head, Challe sighed lightly. Then he began talking in a gentle voice.

“What the Duke of Philax is asking for is something unachievable, for you or anyone else. Even if you make a respectable candy sculpture, I doubt he will accept it. It would be best to withdraw.”

“…Huh?”

“You don’t need a thousand cress or to earn yourself a reputation. You should back out and leave this place.”

“Are you talking about quitting this job halfway through?”

“That’s right.”

“But, I…I took it on. I said I was up to it.”

“There are some things you just can’t do.”

At that point, Mithril voiced his agreement.

“He’s right, Anne. I also feel like it would be best for you to quit. It’s too bad about the thousand cress, though.”

Leave the job?

If I can’t do it, that would mean resigning from a job that I accepted. The thing that’s keeping me from completing my work is that I don’t really understand what the duke is asking for. This is his fault, and yet…

No way.

Deep in her heart, she felt the pull of something unreasonable, some sense of obstinate determination.

I don’t want to admit that it’s impossible.

“It’s my fault I can’t do it, my fault that I can’t understand what the duke is asking for. I mean, it goes without saying that I should make what the client requests. I just can’t tell what that is because I’m not clever enough.”

Still in shock, she answered in a tearful voice.

“What he wants is something unimaginable,” Challe said. “It’s probably something that can’t even be made of candy.”

Could he really be demanding something that’s impossible to make?

Anne thought back on everything Duke Alburn had said and done. While she was thinking, her feelings of agitation settled down. Then Anne remembered the expression that had flashed across Duke Alburn’s face, just for a moment.

“It can’t be something impossible to make.”

She looked up suddenly.

“It’s got to be something that can be made of sugar candy. When the duke looked at my candy sculpture, just for a second, he seemed happy. But after examining it carefully, he said it was wrong. I don’t think he would have made that face if he was looking for something impossible to represent in candy form. That’s why.”

Mithril looked stunned to hear those words. “So you’re saying that you’re going to keep the job, Anne?”

“Please stop. I know you’re both worried about me…but…”

“You’re the candy crafter here. You should be the one to decide,” Challe said bluntly, and he stood up.

“I’m sorry, Challe, Mithril Lid Pod. You’re stuck keeping me company, but…”

“Only because there’s no one more interesting around to pass the time with. I don’t mind.” Even as he grumbled, Challe took Anne’s hand and helped her to her feet.

Mithril nodded in agreement, despite looking somewhat fed up. “We know perfectly well that you’re a dummy, Anne, so we’re not surprised at all.”

Anne didn’t want to abandon the request.

She was too stubborn. She hated the idea of raising the white flag and running away.

Outside of making sugar candy, there was nothing Anne wanted to do and nothing she thought worth doing. A part of her felt like she might lose her grasp on that special calling if she abandoned her singular focus for even a moment.

But even if she stubbornly decided to continue working, she wondered what kind of sugar candy she ought to make. Determination didn’t change the fact that she was out of ideas.

For the time being, she decided she would take it easy and rest for the remainder of that evening.

She didn’t touch the silver sugar. Instead, she focused on regaining her composure and preparing herself to grab onto some new idea.

Anne finished her dinner and sat at the table drinking hot tea. She wanted to warm her body up before bed.

She poured some for Challe, too. He was leaning an arm against the table, holding his palm above the steaming cup and enjoying his tea. He seemed to be enjoying the aroma of the aged tea that wafted through the room. From time to time, he narrowed his eyes; whenever he did, his wing shone a gentle pale-green.

The exhaustion from the past few days’ work seemed to have caught up with Mithril. After dinner, he had immediately slipped into bed. Anne looked at him breathing deeply in his sleep and felt she had done something wrong. She had been so absorbed in her work that she hadn’t noticed how tired he was.

Since moving into the tower room, Mithril and Anne had been using the bed. Challe had been spreading a leather sheet out on the floor and sleeping under a single blanket. Anne had been worrying about that, too.

“Challe. You sleep in the bed tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“That I can do, but I’m kicking Mithril Lid Pod out. His teeth grinding is annoying.”

“That’s so mean! Don’t do it.”

“Well, then, I’ll sleep on the floor. That’s fine with me.”

Anne deflated. In the end, Challe had no inclination to use the bed. Yet she found it exhausting when he jerked her chain like that, because she reacted sincerely every time.

“Just when did you become such a curmudgeon, Challe?”

“I’d be shocked if you could find someone who’s lived over a hundred years and isn’t a little bit of a misanthrope.” Then he looked across the table at Anne and smiled mischievously. “I bet you wouldn’t change deep down, even if you lived for a century.”

“What is that supposed to mean? Are you saying I’m not charming at all…? But a hundred years ago, huh? I wonder if you weren’t so cynical back then, Challe…”

“Back then, sure.”

“You weren’t?!”

She couldn’t imagine it. But just as Anne had once been a baby, Challe must have grown and changed as well. She wondered what kind of look Challe had had on his face when he was born. Maybe he had been smiling innocently like a young boy. Anne wished she could have seen it. Liz would have.

Liz.

The feeling that resembled jealousy reared its ugly head again. Hoping to swallow the feeling, Anne gulped down her cold tea. The tea slid down her throat, but the awful feeling still remained.

As she looked at Challe’s calm profile, the urge to ask him about Liz welled up in her chest.

“How about getting some sleep?”

Anne had suddenly gone quiet, which Challe had taken to mean that she was exhausted.

But she wasn’t tired at all. Rather, her emotions had in some respects cooled down, and her head was clear.

She wrapped her hands around her empty teacup and stared down at it. And then—

“Liz…”

Finally, the name came out of her mouth.

Anne knew she was making a mistake.

But she didn’t stop the words that followed.

“What kind of girl was she? Was she beautiful?”

“Beautiful?”

Challe didn’t seem to wonder why Anne would ask him something like that. He probably thought she was making regular small talk.

He fixed his gaze on an empty spot in space, as if he were looking at Liz standing there.

“I thought she was.”

“What color were her eyes? Was her hair long? Was she very graceful?”

“She had blue eyes. Her hair was quite long. She never cut it, from age five on. Graceful…? Not exactly, but she was mature. She was quiet and thoughtful.”

Beautiful, mature, and quiet? A thoughtful young lady.

I am not pretty. I’m childlike and noisy. I don’t think things through a lot of the time.

Anne’s mind filled with self-deprecating thoughts.

And I’m jealous…

She couldn’t help but be desperately jealous. Challe probably saw Liz everywhere he looked with his black eyes. As Anne stared at his lovely profile, that thought pierced her heart.

Suddenly, Challe looked in her direction. Then his eyes widened slightly.

“What’s the matter?”

Anne didn’t know what had startled him.

Then she felt something wet.

She noticed the drop of water that had fallen near her hands. She touched her own cheek. She was crying.

“Ah…what’s this? I…”

She wanted to stop it, but there was no way to hold back the tears that were already flowing.

Challe was looking at her with confusion, a rarity for him.

For the past few days, she had done nothing but worry about her sugar candy. Then that candy had been smashed by Duke Alburn earlier in the evening.

That must have been why she was crying. She had decided to continue with the job, but the exhaustion was throwing her emotions into an unstable state. Normally, she wouldn’t cry over something like this. She wouldn’t have been foolish enough to ask about Liz in the first place. Her tears had finally shown her the extent of her own stupidity.

She didn’t want Challe to see her like that, so she turned her back to him. She couldn’t move from her spot.

She didn’t know what she would do if he asked her why she was crying. That was all she could think about.

“Did I say something to hurt your feelings?”

“No…”

She shook her head, but she couldn’t lift her face. She wept even more when he spoke to her.

After a little while, she sensed Challe standing up. He was probably trying to be considerate. He left the room without hesitation.

Anne chided herself for being foolish.

At last her tears stopped, and she wiped her face roughly with the sleeve of her dress.

She was certain she had made Challe feel uncomfortable. It wasn’t his fault she’d started crying. She had to tell him that. It would be best to get him to come back to the room quickly and get some rest.

Anne also needed to sleep and recover her energy. Then she would set about her work again the next day.

Surely, she would be able to forget these unpleasant feelings once she did that.

Anne left her room with a lamp in hand and headed for the stairs.

“Challe? Challe, are you out here?”

She illuminated the staircase up and down and called his name, but there was no answer.

When Challe went out strolling alone, he often went to the roof of the tower. So she went to check the rooftop. But all she found was a strong wind howling through the darkness. Challe wasn’t there. She went to check the reception hall, too, just in case, but he wasn’t there, either.

She knew she would get lost if she went anywhere else. Helplessly, she returned to her room.

When Anne reached her room, she saw that the door was slightly ajar. She was sure that she had shut it tightly when she’d left. Feeling hopeful, she quickly opened the door.

“Challe?!”

Standing there was someone different.

“Jonas?”

“Hey, Anne.”

Jonas looked uncharacteristically nervous.

“Why are you in my room?”

“There was just something I had to take care of. Say, do you know what this is?”

As he said that, Jonas held up his right hand and showed her something he was holding. It was a fairy’s wing, about the size of his palm.

“That wing—”

When she looked at the bed in surprise, she saw Mithril sitting there, hanging his head.

When Mithril noticed Anne’s gaze, he lifted his face. He looked like he was about to cry.

“Anne, I’m so sorry. I was fast asleep, and…he stole my wing.”

Mithril had one wing left on his back. Anne had returned the other wing, which had been plucked off by a fairy hunter. It could never be put onto his back again. So Mithril had been wearing his own wing wrapped around his neck like a scarf. But the one that had been wound around his neck was missing.

“Jonas. What possessed you to do that? Give him back his wing. If you have a problem, you can take it up with me directly, can’t you?”

Her voice trembled with rage.

“I’m not planning to do anything to you. Though there is something I’d like to get you to do for me.”

Jonas did not speak or act like someone with the upper hand. His eyes made him look like he was at his wit’s end, like he’d been backed into a corner.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. I want you to go to Challe now and tell him, ‘I don’t want you with me anymore, so please leave the castle.’ Say, ‘Don’t show your face in front of me again.’”

“Why?! Why would I do such a thing?!”

“It’s not impossible, is it?”

Jonas twisted Mithril’s wing sharply with both hands.

Mithril shrieked and fell off the bed.

“Stop it!!”

Anne tried to throw herself upon Jonas, but he dodged nimbly and held the wing aloft.

“I’m taking Mithril with me and retiring to my room. I’m leaving Cathy behind. I’ll give the wing back once you do exactly as I say and drive Challe from this castle. But if you try to tell him about me, Cathy will be listening. She’ll let me know right away if she hears anything I won’t like. And then I will tear this wing to pieces.”

“Jonas, you…”

“Come along now, Mithril.”

Jonas gave Anne a sidelong glance. She glared at him, and he quickly left the room.

As Mithril walked past Anne, he apologized to her.

She had absolutely no idea why Jonas would do this. She was almost blind with rage. Taking Mithril as a hostage was beyond cowardly.

“Don’t forget I’m watching you, Anne.”

There was a voice from beside the window. Cathy was sitting there cross-legged, watching Anne with a faint smile on her face.

“If you say anything more, I’ll report it to Master Jonas immediately.”

That was all Cathy said before the color suddenly started to drain from her body, starting from her feet. She gradually grew transparent and disappeared. Turning invisible was her special power.

“Why are you doing this?”

Anne was wild with anger. But she knew that she had to do as Jonas said. That was the only thing she did understand.

Why did Anne start crying? I don’t really understand.

She asked me about Liz, and I just answered her questions. That’s what I thought, at least.

And yet Anne started crying.

Come to think of it, during those years I spent with Liz…after she turned fifteen but before she died…I often could not understand what she was thinking. She would cry or get angry out of nowhere, just like Anne. And she would always say the same thing when she did: “It’s because I’m in love with you.”

Challe had felt the same. He had loved the young lady from the bottom of his heart.

So he had thought carefully about the best path to bring her happiness. The conclusion he had reached was that it would be best for Liz if he was not around. Rather than allow her to be unhappy by his side, it would be better to entrust her to someone who could definitely bring her joy. That was the safer choice. He would have been satisfied with that.

But Liz had cried. After she’d repeated that she was in love with him, he had answered that he felt the same way.

“My love for you and your love for me are different,” Liz had responded.

He hadn’t understood what she had meant. And she was killed before he could figure it out.

For twenty years after Liz died, he had given himself over to hatred and rage and had taken his revenge.

When he saw that through, he had fallen into despondency.

His anger and animosity toward humans had smoldered away in the depths of his heart. Then he’d slowly ceased to care about anything. He had spent nearly eighty years as a hollow shell.

If he really thought about it, the only experience he’d had dealing with humans and their feelings was the fifteen years he had spent with Liz. He had an overwhelming lack of understanding. He was practically on the same level as fifteen-year-old Anne. Perhaps he even had less experience than she did.

He was well acquainted with the feelings of hatred, rage, and resignation. But he didn’t know much outside of that. It was difficult for him to make inferences about Anne’s feelings.

Challe stayed on the walkway along the ramparts until it was past midnight. A strong wind carrying the smell of seawater blew ceaselessly through the pitch-dark night. It was the perfect setting to cool his head.

The stars were high overhead, clear and brilliant in the midwinter sky. Challe could measure the time from the positions of the stars. When he thought it was late enough that Anne would be asleep, he made his way back to the room.

No matter what happened during the day, she woke up the next day like nothing had happened. Even if an issue had transpired earlier, Anne would go to sleep, and everything would be settled come morning.

Challe entered the room and was surprised to find that Anne was still awake. She had the lamp lit on the table and was sitting motionlessly in a chair. When she sensed that he had entered the room, she looked up with a start. Her expression was stiff.

“Challe…please. I want you to…get out of here.”

“You want me to sleep in a different room?”

When he answered her with a question, Anne shook her head.

“No. I want you to leave this castle. And…don’t come back again. Don’t come back to me.”

The meaning of her words didn’t immediately sink in. But slowly it registered.

“You don’t want to be together, is that what you’re saying?”

Without looking up, Anne nodded deeply.

What is she suggesting, all of a sudden?

A feeling similar to anger swelled up inside him. But unlike anger, the feeling didn’t turn into rage; it just grew larger and weighed like an awful pressure on his chest. He started to grow irritated.

“And the reason?”

He felt his irritation would never settle down if he didn’t at least ask her that.

But Anne just shook her head.

“Tell me the reason,” he insisted.

The second time he asked, she gave him fragments of an answer.

“It’s not your fault, Challe…it’s mine. I’m sorry. So please don’t ask.”

That seemed to be the best she could muster. She kept her eyes downcast and didn’t move, except for the trembling of her shoulders.

It was just like earlier when Anne had started crying. He did not understand the cause at all. But he had no doubt that she had her own reasons.

All of a sudden, he felt something cold run through his chest like an icy draft.

Is there any reason for me to stick around if I’m not needed here?

The familiar feeling of lethargy that he’d known for eighty years came creeping back to him. He had completely forgotten about it over the past two and a half months.

This must be how everything works. It all ends abruptly.

Challe figured it was pointless to ask Anne any more questions. He couldn’t see a reason to keep on asking anyway.

When he had decided to go with Anne, he had felt certain that she needed him. He was with her because he was convinced of it. That was all.

Now that he had been told quite clearly that that wasn’t the case, there was no need to continue questioning her.

Challe turned his back to Anne and started walking away. Old feelings of despondency came back to him. But among them was a new knot of irritation, as if some foreign object were lodged in his chest. It was his first time feeling that particular discomfort.

Challe left the castle.

Anne couldn’t hold back her tears as she listened to Challe’s retreating footsteps.

She kept her head down, and tears dripped onto her lap.

“What a good job you did.”

Cathy reappeared. She jumped down from the windowsill, then up onto the table.

“Awww, are you crying?”

Anne rubbed her tears away on her sleeve and turned her face away from Cathy. The fairy huffed as if Anne had ruined her fun, then left to fetch Jonas.

She had rejected Challe. The anger and all the other feelings she had toward Jonas left her body, leaving her feeling drained and empty. She leaned limply against the back of her chair.

I wonder what Challe thought of me? I’m sure he thought I was a selfish jerk. But maybe he’s relieved to be separated from me. Like he’s finally really free.

She had never really understood why he’d stayed with her in the first place. Perhaps he had felt some sort of obligation toward her for returning his wing to him. But he must have been happy to leave now that she had rejected him. Anne was certain that Challe was leaving the castle feeling refreshed.

Her tears welled up again at the thought.

“So you really did it, huh, Anne?”

Jonas had entered the room; she held back her tears with some effort. She didn’t want him to see her crying or upset.

She got to her feet and came closer to Jonas.

“Come on, give back Mithril Lid Pod’s wing.”

“Not yet. Tomorrow, you and I are going to meet with the Duke of Philax. And you will not contradict a single thing that I say. All you need to say is that everything is exactly as I claim.”

“What are you planning on doing?”

“Just do what I say. I’m returning the little bastard to your room. He’s so annoying; just holding on to his wing will be sufficient.”

That was all Jonas said before leaving.

Anne wondered what Jonas was trying to do. She had no doubt that he was trying to set something up for his own advantage, just like two months earlier when he had stolen her sugar sculpture.

Unlike last time, though, she couldn’t see the part of him that took joy in his scheming. He was the type of guy who couldn’t hide his glee when he came up with some sort of wicked plan to get ahead. She couldn’t sense any of that delight in him now.

After a little while, Mithril came back to the room, hanging his head despondently.

“Anne, I’m sorry, I…”

“Mithril Lid Pod!”

As soon as she saw him, she rushed over, scooped him into her arms, and hugged him tightly.

“Are you all right? He didn’t do anything awful to you?”

“Anne, did you do as Jonas said? Did Challe Fenn Challe leave? I’m sorry, it’s my fault you had to do that.”

“It was not your fault. Jonas is the bad guy here.”

“But you love Challe Fenn Challe, Anne! Having to tell him to beat it must have been really painful.”

Anne blushed to hear Mithril say that so suddenly. But even as she did, the distress she’d felt the moment she saw Challe turn to leave filled her chest again. She was on the verge of tears, but she held them back.

“What are you talking about? I’ve never mentioned anything about loving Challe, so how would…?”

“You don’t have to hide it. I can tell, Anne. Who exactly do you think I am? I’m the great Mithril Lid Pod! Don’t you dare lump me in with that moron Challe Fenn Challe.”

Anne burst out laughing for a second when she heard Mithril call Challe a moron, even though she still had tears in her eyes.

“A moron, huh? Challe would be angry if he heard you.”

“I mean, he is one. It’s so obvious, so why can’t he see how you feel?”

Now that he mentions it, Mithril may be right. I blush at the way Challe behaves, run away from him, and burst out crying. A normal man would at least be wondering.

If we were talking about Jonas, I’m sure he would have been long convinced that I was interested in him.

“You do love Challe, right?”

It was like Mithril said: Her behavior made it obvious. Anne gave up on denying it and nodded earnestly.

“Mm. Probably.”

Mithril rubbed the spot under his nose. Then he chuckled. “You do? Right, well. Of course you do.” He sounded a bit disappointed. “I knew that already.”

“But it doesn’t matter. Challe already left, so…”

Still holding Mithril in her arms, Anne sat down on the bed.

“I wonder what Jonas is planning to do after separating us from Challe?”

Her apprehension grew. She felt even more anxious without Challe around. She felt helpless, as if someone had thrown her out into wintry weather naked.

She realized how demanding she had been to ask about Liz, and then she burst into tears again.

I’m an idiot.

Maybe Challe was always thinking about the past, but that had nothing to do with her. The most important thing was that he had been at her side, and she should have been glad for it.

She had forgotten that and had longed for more.

Didn’t Hugh say something about that?

“Humans find it difficult to adapt to harsh circumstances but quickly get used to a comfortable environment.”

Without realizing it, Anne had gotten used to having Challe next to her.

I want him with me. That alone was enough. I don’t care what he’s been musing over; I just want him here. Oh Challe, Challe!

There was no way that he could hear her. But she couldn’t stop herself from calling his name over and over again in her heart.