Sugar Apple Fairytale - Volume 6 - Chapter 4.1

Chapter 4

FAIRIES AND HUMANS

As darkness descended over their surroundings, flurries of snow began to fall.

Anne had been shivering the whole ride, sitting between Lafalle’s arms on the horse. Behind her, his body and the arm holding her waist were cold, like steel. He was a fairy, so that was to be expected, but she didn’t recall feeling so cold when she’d ridden with Challe.

As for the red threads wrapped around her neck, Lafalle had dissolved them during the ride, but their icy sensation remained, along with her fear. Anne was frightened and cold.

Without her cape, she was at the mercy of the wind. Her shoulders, arms, and legs were quickly frozen stiff, and she shivered from her very core.

The black horse Challe was riding followed after them, staying a little ways behind Lafalle’s palomino. Anne wanted to turn and check that Challe was still there, but frozen with cold and fear, her body wouldn’t move as she wanted it to.

The horses ran west from Lewiston. They stayed off the main roads, driving deeper into the wilderness. Howling winds blew past them, and there were no signs of any houses nearby or any fields. They were clearly someplace few people went, and Anne had an idea of where they might be.

The edge of the Bloody Highway…

The Bloody Highway was the major road connecting Lewiston to the western side of the kingdom. A year and some months earlier, Anne had traveled it with Challe and Mithril.

Around it, the soil was infertile, and humans didn’t settle there. There were many wild beasts and all types of bandits lurking along the way. The Bloody Highway itself was dangerous, but stepping off the road and into the wilderness was practically suicidal.

Nevertheless, Lafalle drove his horse forward without hesitation.

The wind blew past them and made the dry grass sway, sending a noisy rustle rippling across the whole plain.

Now that the sun had set and snow was falling, the cold was even more biting. Anne’s body was chilled through and through, and her teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. Lafalle seemed to notice her trembling, and he chuckled dryly.

“What’s the matter? Are you cold? Poor thing,” Lafalle whispered blithely into Anne’s ear. “I’m terribly sorry, Anne. But look! We’re already here.”

The sky was steeped in a deep indigo blue. A black mountain range stood out against the blue sky, with an even darker black shadow perched atop it, like the mountain was carrying the dark shape on its back. It was a rugged fort made of enormous rough-hewn stones. There were rows of small windows set into the high walls, several of them lit from inside.

The two horses galloped straight up to the stronghold without stopping.

An empty stone arch served as the entrance. It appeared the door that once stood in it had been destroyed, and there was nothing to prevent anyone from going in or out.

Tendrils of dry ivy crept along the walls and over the arch. When the three of them entered the fort, Anne saw various thin trees and sparse shrubs in wintry desolation scattered about inside what appeared to be the curtain wall. The place looked like it had been abandoned for decades.

Lafalle brought his horse to a stop and nimbly got down off its back. Then lifting Anne in his arms, he lowered her to the ground.

Challe also dismounted and approached Lafalle.

“Now that we’ve come this far, you must be satisfied. Let Anne go. She can’t possibly escape from this place alone. And you hold my wing. There’s nothing I can do.”

Lafalle was looking with unbridled delight into Challe’s black eyes as Challe stared squarely back at him. At some point during the ride, Lafalle’s hair had returned to its usual ambiguous color, like green and blue pigments dissolved into milk.

Challe would not look away, and Lafalle eventually gave in and shrugged facetiously.

“Well, I’d like to play with you a little more, but it seems that would make you impossibly angry.”

Then he pushed Anne lightly on the back, sending her stumbling into Challe’s chest.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, startled.

Anne couldn’t stop shivering or keep her teeth from chattering. Anxious, Challe embraced her tightly.

“Lafalle, give us a room. One with a hearth. I’ll start a fire and get her warmed up.”

“Allow me to show you in.”

Lafalle gazed at their surroundings. Then all around—from behind columns, from the entrance leading into the fort, and from the thickets of thin, bare trees—countless large, dark figures appeared one after another.

Challe frowned.

He and Anne were quickly surrounded by brawny fairies with thick arms and necks, built like boulders. There were probably around twenty of them. They were obviously warrior fairies. Anne had seen many like them since her youth.

“They will show you the way.”

The warrior fairies wore blank expressions as they surrounded Challe and Anne, urging them on. Challe moved forward, holding Anne by the shoulders. She could just barely manage to walk, but her knees trembled terribly with every step.

The warrior fairies led them to a room on the highest floor of the keep.

It had a wooden door and one small window set high up in the wall, just large enough to put one’s head through. The walls and floor were undressed stone. There was a hearth, but it appeared long disused. On the stone floor before it lay a thick rug, but it, too, was faded and worn.

“Wait here. I’ll be back soon.”

Challe sat Anne down on top of the rug and left the room.

The place was dark, cold, and lonely. Anne hugged her shoulders, but she couldn’t stop shivering.

Before long, Challe returned. Just seeing him nearly brought Anne to tears, she was so relieved. He had brought back all sorts of things, including a lamp, blankets, and some firewood.

After lighting the lamp, he wrapped Anne’s body in blankets, tossed some wood into the hearth, and got a fire going. Anne watched in a kind of daze as Challe completed each task.

For a long while now, Anne had been working at the very limits of her ability. The emotional ups and downs had been extreme, and her troubles had seemed endless.

And now, on top of all that, she had been kidnapped. Along with the cold and her exhaustion and fear, all that stress suddenly rushed down on her, and as if a flip had switched inside her, she fell into a state of lethargy.

Once the fire in the hearth was burning vigorously, her skin gradually started to warm up. But the chill at her core wouldn’t go away, like she was frozen through to the center. Challe sat behind Anne and embraced her again.

“Lean back.”

Challe pressed gently on Anne’s forehead, laying her head against his chest. Both Challe’s body, where it touched her back, and his fingers, where they touched her forehead, were icy cold—a fairy’s normal body temperature.

But it wasn’t the same as Lafalle—that chill that seeped into her body wherever he touched her, cold like steel. Touching Challe felt like touching a smooth piece of pottery. He felt somehow soft, like her own body heat might gradually transmit to him.

“I’m cold,” she said, finally able to form words again. It must have been the relief of Challe holding her.

“I wish my skin was warm, like a human’s.”

As he spoke, Challe took Anne’s right hand and blew on it.

A fairy’s skin was cold, but for some reason, their wings and breath were slightly warm. Perhaps the heat of their life force came flowing out in those spots. Challe knew that his own breath felt warm to humans. He had even warmed Anne’s fingers like this before.

After blowing on her right hand for a little while, he moved to her left.

Anne’s brain felt sluggish and hazy. Memories of Lafalle’s attack kept running through her mind.

She wondered if Elliott was all right and what had become of their work. Without Anne, the workshop would probably fall behind schedule again. And then there was the matter of Challe’s wing.

“Challe…your wing…”

As vacant as Anne’s mind was at the moment, the loss of Challe’s wing made her heart ache with bitter frustration.

His wing, which she had worked so hard to recover, was in someone else’s hands yet again. But this time, it wasn’t a human—it was a fellow fairy. She couldn’t believe that Lafalle would do something so cruel.

“Don’t worry about that. It can wait.” Challe’s voice was gentle and kind. “You must be tired. This is the perfect time to clear your mind and sleep. You have no work to do tomorrow.”

Comforted by his words, Anne closed her eyes. She was at her limit mentally and physically. She wanted to sleep.

It was a relief to feel the weight of Anne sleeping in his arms. Their situation was dire, but for the time being, Anne was unharmed.

As she leaned her head against Challe’s chest and slept, he could see the nape of Anne’s exposed neck. Lafalle had kissed her there. And not only there, but her hair and her cheek, as well.

Before, when Lafalle had run his hand across Anne’s cheek, Challe had felt displeasure beyond comparison.

As if to cleanse the hair where Lafalle had kissed her, Challe kissed the same spot, lingering a little. From there, he moved his lips to her cheek and gave her a long kiss there, too. Then, finally, he kissed the nape of her neck, this time with force. Over and over again.

“…Nnh.”

Anne stirred fretfully, startling him.

Challe suddenly became aware of his own actions. What had he been trying to do to Anne, who trusted him so much that she felt safe falling asleep in his arms?

Back to his senses, he stroked her hair, the same way he had done for Liz when she was young, so long ago.

He continued that for a little while, until he heard noises and felt the presence of several people outside the door.

“Oh my, did she fall asleep?”

Lafalle opened the door and was the first to step into the room. Following after him, several warrior fairies brought in a roughly built bed. They set it down in one corner of the room, then left.

Lafalle watched the fairies leave, then said breezily, “I’m not in the habit of making a fuss over humans. It never occurred to me that your darling Silver Sugar Master would require a warm bed.”

There was a thick mattress laid out on the bed, and it had several blankets and a quilt. It had to be warmer than lying on the stone floor. Without a word, Challe picked Anne up and moved her to the bed.

“Flames are so beautiful,” said Lafalle. “When I first saw humans burning fires inside their homes, I thought they were using them as decoration. I was surprised to learn that they were necessary to them. Humans are such weak creatures. Their forms resemble ours, but they couldn’t be more different. Originally, they were savage animals, ugly beasts with no intelligence or power. Those beasts aspired to be like us, and through their great yearning, they were transformed. They gained bodies like ours and began to develop some sense, you see. The account is in the fairies’ book of genesis. Did you know that?”

Lafalle stood in front of the hearth, gazing into the flames. His wing caught the light from the fire and shone with a gleaming blend of pale red and orange.

After putting Anne to bed, Challe returned to the hearth, leaned over, and tossed in more firewood. He didn’t look at Lafalle.

“I don’t want to listen to your idle chatter. If you’ve finished your business, get out.”

“But I’ve prepared a different room for you, Challe. Not a shabby place like this. You are meant to be by my side. I would never treat you so poorly.”

Challe laughed at the other fairy’s absurd claim.

“You wouldn’t treat me poorly? Are you joking? How can you say that after seizing my wing?”

“I’d like to give it back right away, and I will. Just as soon as you recognize you are meant to be with me and accept that truth in your heart. Unfortunately, you don’t seem ready yet.”

“If you understand that, then get out. You’re an eyesore. I don’t intend to leave her side.”

“You seem quite taken with her, this Silver Sugar Master. Certainly, one can detect the aroma of silver sugar on her hair and skin, which is not entirely unexciting.”

Lafalle spun around and headed toward the bed. Looking down at the sleeping Anne, he smiled faintly. “If I embrace her, do you think I might discover why you’re so attached?”

He slowly extended a hand toward Anne.

Challe rushed over and grabbed his wrist from behind. “Don’t touch her!”

Lafalle burst out laughing. “I’m joking, Challe!”

He turned around and, with his free hand, grabbed hold of Challe’s other arm. The two fairies grappled with equal strength, each holding the other fast and neither able to move.

“Let go of me,” Lafalle ordered. “I told you I was only joking.”

“I won’t forgive you even if you were joking. If you dare lay a hand on Anne, I’ll kill you.”

Gritting their teeth, they glared at each other.

“You think you can cut me down? While I hold your wing? You might slice right through it along with me.”

“If that’s what it takes to cut you down, I’ll do it.”

“So you’re really that devoted to her, hmm? But, Challe, we are different from humans. No matter how much fondness you may have for Anne, it can only bring sorrow to you both.”

The know-it-all look on Lafalle’s villainous face made Challe furious. “What would you know?” he spat.

“I understand even better than you do, since I can look at things objectively. Let’s say that you and Anne did fall in love. What would become of it? It would probably work out fine for you. Until Anne’s life span ran out, you could seek comfort in her. But as a human, Anne would have no descendants. She would live out her days as your pet and leave nothing behind. Do you think that would make her happy as a human?”

Challe’s face went blank, and Lafalle smiled faintly. Their stalemate broken, Lafalle gradually pushed Challe backward until he was pressed against the wall.

Challe had felt it ever since he saw Anne and Keith smiling at each other at the Radcliffe Workshop.

It was more natural for humans to live among their own kind—and probably better for them. But though he believed that was true, his desire to cling to Anne and never let her go had become too strong to fight.

“Fairies ought to live with fairies, and humans with humans,” said Lafalle. “That’s the most natural way. You’ll only make Anne unhappy.”

Noticing Challe’s wavering emotions, Lafalle pressed further. “The last fairy king, Riselva Cyril Sash, tried to come to an understanding with humans. But ultimately, he fought against Cedric, the human king. The fact that they ended up at odds is proof that fairies and humans cannot live in harmony. The humans killed Riselva, but you and I are meant to carry on his legacy.”

This sounded like nonsense to Challe. He frowned in displeasure, and Lafalle’s faint smile disappeared.

“The precious stones from which we emerged were set into the hilt of a forgotten blade. From the moment I was born, I wondered who its owner was. So I looked into it and into the significance of the chapel where it lay. One hundred years ago, the kingdom was at war. The humans’ control had not advanced as far as it has now. In old castles and churches, you could still find writing that the fairies left behind. The humans won’t admit it, but this script, called Highlandia, was created by fairies. And from those writings, I learned that the sword’s owner was none other than the last fairy king, Riselva. Opal, obsidian, diamond. Three stones of different types but all with a similar energy. Those three stones were chosen deliberately. And it was Riselva himself who chose them.”

“Traditional depictions of the fairy king say that he was born from a ruby,” Challe interjected. “As a gemstone fairy, he ought to have been able to create his own blade. Riselva would have had no need to carry a sword.”

“Not for fighting, perhaps,” Lafalle replied. “But no matter how long his life span, once it came to an end, he would have to leave behind a successor, surely? So each fairy king wore a sword that he didn’t need, inlaid with stones meant to birth the one to follow him. Each sword held three stones with similar energies deemed fitting to birth the fairy king’s successor. The king then prayed for one, or even all three, to give rise to new life worthy of such a position.

“However, Riselva lost the war, and his sword passed into the hands of the human king, Cedric. In place of the fairy king’s corpse, Cedric laid the sword to rest in a chapel.”

“There’s no proof.”

“Then why have I known the name Riselva Cyril Sash since the moment I was born? You should have known it, too, Challe.”

Fairies were born with vague knowledge of everything the object that birthed them had experienced.

Challe, too, had known at the time of his birth that humans were something to be cautious of.

Somehow, he’d known that the world had day and night, that it had four seasons, and that it rained and snowed. He’d known that there were stars in the sky. And he’d known that there were things such as birds, insects, and all sorts of other animals.

However, the only proper noun in his memory had been the name Riselva Cyril Sash.

Challe hadn’t even known the name of the opal inlaid beside the obsidian from which he was born. Though when he heard Lafalle’s name for the first time, he had realized it referred to the one born from that stone’s energy.

Why had he and Lafalle had that one name etched into their memory from before they were born?

Perhaps it was the name of someone close to them. Or maybe the person who had prepared the obsidian and the opal had intentionally tried to leave it behind in their memories.

“The chapel was under the protection of a human family, the Lowells. As a branch of the Millsland family, they were descended from the human king, Cedric. For ages, the second daughter born to each generation of the Lowell family was destined to spend her life protecting the chapel. You know the name of one of those young ladies, don’t you, Challe? I gather you once lived by her side.”

Liz had dwelled in a castle in the wilderness from an early age. Born the second daughter of the Lowell family, she had a special role to play and was to live in that castle for the rest of her days.

The purpose of her role was never explained to Liz. She’d only been told that it was her duty to reside there. But whenever any mail arrived for her from outside the castle, there were always three particular words written before her name.

“…The Fairy Seal.”

The Fairy Seal Elizabeth Lowell, the letters had read.

“The human king laid Riselva’s sword to rest. But after the war, the humans feared that a new fairy king might be born from the precious stones set into its hilt. However, because the sword was interred in a chapel built by Cedric himself, the people couldn’t do anything imprudent. So they built a castle to ensure that no one went near the chapel, and they enlisted a noble family to live there as its guardians.

“Even though they went to such lengths to guard the sword, I was nevertheless eventually born. A moon eagle, sharp-eyed even in the darkness, wandered into the chapel and stared at the opal. It was pure chance. Actually…maybe it was inevitable, something brought about by the fairy king’s dying wish.

“We can’t be born without the gaze of a living creature, but it would take one that could see in the dark, or someone to sneak in and light a lantern, for a fairy to be born in that complete darkness. I didn’t think it would happen again. That’s why I felt secure leaving you. But by the time I got back, you were born and had already disappeared.”

Liz must have been forbidden from going into the chapel. But as a five-year-old girl, full of curiosity, she had set out to explore the place. Then she had been enchanted by the sparkle of the obsidian she saw there and started to visit frequently.

Riselva Cyril Sash did that?

It was as if an apparition had taken solid form and was standing before Challe’s eyes. He could see the fairy king, who had lived five hundred years in the past and had prepared the precious stones that gave birth to Challe and Lafalle. There was an almost tangible feeling of truth to Lafalle’s strange story.

“The chapel was buried in a cave-in about fifty years ago. Before it happened, I took the diamond out. That stone’s time has also long since come. But for some reason, no matter how much I stare at it, no fairy is born. There must be something preventing it. Ultimately, you and I are the only ones who were born from the three stones to which the fairy king entrusted the next generation. And it took more than one hundred years for us to finally meet. We met because we were meant to. Don’t you agree?”

Lafalle had Challe pressed up against the stone wall.

His eyes, an ambiguous color like drops of dye dissolved in milk—neither green nor blue—seemed to reflect the ambitions of the many generations of fairies before him.

As Challe faced him, he felt something resonate with his fairy nature. It wasn’t quite nostalgia, but now that he knew Lafalle’s true identity, he couldn’t help but sense how closely they were related.

“Challe,” Lafalle whispered. “We are meant to inherit Riselva’s legacy. We are meant to become fairy kings.”

“Fairy kings?”

“We must gather the fairies together and liberate them. With our strength combined, we’ll be able to rally our people and stand up to the humans. We’ll take back the fairy kingdom. For the sake of our people’s freedom, we must become kings. We can reign together. In the oldest inscription I found, it was recorded that, before Riselva, there were two kings. And when they ruled together as a pair, they were doubly strong.”

Lafalle didn’t sound like he was joking.

Our people’s freedom.

Challe had personally experienced the humiliation of having his wing taken and the agony of being enslaved. The word freedom appealed to him. He wanted to believe that they really were meant to do something to liberate all fairies from that agony.

Such thoughts flashed through his mind for a moment, but he soon remembered Anne.

Anne is a human.

Antagonizing the humans would mean making her their enemy as well. That was unthinkable.

And those of the Paige Workshop were also human. He couldn’t regard them as enemies simply because of that. He couldn’t turn his sword against them.

“I don’t suppose you’ve forgotten the humiliation of having your wing stolen?” Lafalle continued, trying to entice him.

“The humans who tore off my wing are dead,” Challe replied. “That is over. Not all humans are so detestable that I want to make the whole race my enemy. Even if your story about Riselva is true, that doesn’t mean I’m meant to fulfill his legacy. Rule over the humans, you say? Just the two of us? It’s a fantasy. I can’t play along with a delusion like that.”

“We can do it if we gather our comrades. You saw it yourself. I’ve already recruited many fairies with considerable combat ability.”

“Think about how many humans there were five hundred years ago and how many there are now. How different do you think those numbers are? These past five hundred years, the human population has exploded. Even now, it continues to increase. There’s no way there are that many of us. Even if we scrape together every fairy in Highland, I doubt it will amount to much. If you want to go ahead in spite of that, then do as you please. If fairies win their freedom, I will welcome it. Do whatever you want. But don’t involve me. Even if Riselva himself wished for us to be born, I have no interest in being a fairy king.”

Challe turned away.

Lafalle whispered soothingly, “Challe… Challe, you and I are two of a kind.”

“You’re probably right… Yes.”

That was a fact Challe couldn’t deny.

Lafalle smiled, looking satisfied, and loosened his grip on Challe’s arm.

Not missing his chance, Challe used his whole body to thrust Lafalle away, breaking the other fairy’s hold on him. This seemed to take Lafalle by surprise, and he staggered backward several steps.

“But that’s all,” Challe said. “You can do as you please on your own. You and I may come from the same place, but we are different people.”

At Challe’s cold assertion, Lafalle’s face went blank. “You still say that even now that you know the reason you were born?”

“I’ll decide what I was born for,” Challe replied. “And anyway, how can you say that Riselva’s legacy is to fight the humans and take back the fairy kingdom? He wanted to coexist with them.”

“But it wasn’t possible. For a fairy king, there is no other path than to fight for the sake of all fairies. Riselva was defeated, but I know he expected us to continue his fight.”

“You can’t say that. No one knows for sure.”

“Is that your answer, then, Challe?” Lafalle glanced back at the bed behind him. “How infuriating. So this little girl has stolen your heart completely, has she?” he spat, turning his back on the other fairy. “Well, I suppose it can’t be helped. If that’s what you have to say, then I’ll rule over you, too. I am your king, after all,” Lafalle announced indifferently over his shoulder before leaving the room.

Fairy kings, huh?

Assuming that Challe wanted to, it would likely be possible to gather enough fairies to take control of part of the kingdom and place it under fairy rule.

But then what?

There was no way the humans would quietly coexist with a fairy kingdom. The fighting would never end, and the fairies would never find peace. He could see no future for them like that.

If the fairies were told they were fighting for their freedom, they would probably feel they had no choice.

But even if Challe did wish for a fairy kingdom and his people’s freedom, he couldn’t help but feel like there ought to be another way. He didn’t know what that was or how he might achieve it, however.

He sat down on the side of the bed where Anne was sleeping and brushed back her bangs.

“Tell me,” he whispered, bending down to kiss her forehead. He felt as if she might have an answer.

Why did he feel that way? What was he expecting out of a helpless, naive, scarecrow-brained little girl?

He began to grow anxious. He was worried that by touching Anne this way, by being affectionate and trying to protect her, he might bring her sorrow instead. Lafalle’s words had unsettled his heart.

Keith, full of worry, drove his horse onward toward Hollyleaf Castle.

He was in a one-horse wagon owned by the Radcliffe Workshop and used mainly by apprentices running errands. He had chosen it because it didn’t require preparation and he could get moving immediately.

In truth, he ought to have asked Marcus or the head candy crafter for permission to leave work, but he didn’t have time for any of that.

Anne…

That day, Keith had been hard at work as usual when a visitor arrived for Marcus. Normally, Keith wouldn’t have paid it any mind, but the person who came was a messenger from the Silver Sugar Viscount, and Keith knew the Viscount was observing the Paige Workshop’s progress. With that in mind, he took notice.

The messenger gave Marcus an urgent letter from the Viscount—very rare indeed. Marcus looked surprised as he quickly opened the envelope, and Keith insisted that he be allowed to read the letter with him.

Inside was a warning for all Silver Sugar Masters and candy crafters.

Recently, there had been a spate of attacks targeting candy crafters. The culprit was a fairy who had somehow escaped human control, had powerful combat abilities, and was known to be a ferocious fighter.

That same fairy had attacked the Paige Workshop’s workspace the previous day. He’d injured the proxy maestro and abducted the workshop’s head candy crafter along with the warrior fairy working as her bodyguard.

To protect the safety of all candy crafters and find the kidnapped Silver Sugar Master, the Silver Sugar Viscount—with the cooperation of his patron, the Earl of Downing—was sending out troops to hunt down the fairy culprit.

He urged all candy crafters to take sufficient precautions. The maestros of each faction were expected to warn all branch workshops under their authority.

That was the content of the letter.

Keith had heard rumors that there was a fairy attacking candy crafters, but he never expected that the Paige Workshop would be targeted. And the head candy crafter and warrior-fairy bodyguard mentioned in the letter had to be Anne and Challe. Once he’d heard that, Keith couldn’t sit still.

Had Anne really been kidnapped? And what had become of the Paige Workshop after they were attacked? He needed to see for himself.

Keith hurried up the hill leading to Hollyleaf Castle.

After arriving in the courtyard, he pulled his wagon to a stop and gazed up at the castle. It was very quiet. All he could see through the windows were shadows moving around on the first floor of the east wing. If memory served, that was their designated workspace.

Keith headed for the front door and went to knock, but the knocker that should have been hanging there was missing. It looked like it had been torn off; there were only splinters of wood in its place. Left with no other choice, Keith opened the door and called out.

“Pardon me. Hello?!”

But no one came. He lingered a while and called out several more times. He could hear people moving around in the east wing. Eventually, he got tired of waiting and stepped inside.

Opening the door to the east wing revealed a straight corridor. There, standing in the doorway of the room closest to him, he saw Bridget. She was peering inside, looking worried. She didn’t seem to notice Keith. But just as he was about to speak to her, he heard Elliott’s voice.

“Orlando? Where are you going?”

“To work,” a man’s deep voice answered. He sounded calm and composed.

“Is he all right?” Elliott asked, and Bridget, still in the doorway, shook her head forcefully in reply.

“I’m sure his wounds still hurt. Just earlier, he looked like he was in pain.”

“I’m telling you I can do it, Elliott,” the man’s voice said firmly, sounding angry.

There was a brief pause.

“All right, then,” Elliott responded, sounding deflated. “I mean, if you can, then great. But you’ve got to promise you won’t overdo it.”

“Of course,” the man’s voice answered.

Bridget shook her head again. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Bridget.” Judging that they had reached a break in the conversation, Keith spoke up.

Bridget turned around, her eyes widening. “Keith?”

“I’m sorry. I called out, but no one came to meet me, so I let myself in.”

“The fairies who do the housework are too frightened to answer the door at the moment. Sorry about that.”

As she spoke, Bridget walked toward him. Suddenly, Keith noticed something unexpected.

Bridget’s face seemed somehow different compared with when she was at the Radcliffe Workshop. He’d always suspected that her tough attitude was merely a facade. But now, though she still seemed fragile, he could sense a kind of determination in her, as if she refused to let the world keep her down.

“Do you have some business here?” she asked.

“We received a notification from the Silver Sugar Viscount. It said that the Paige Workshop had been attacked and that Anne had been abducted. The news shocked me. Is all that really true?”

Bridget cast her eyes down and bit her lip. “Yes. It’s true.”

“What is Mr. Collins doing?”

“He’s working.”

“Working? At a time like this?!”

Anne had entered the Selection on behalf of the Paige Workshop, and her sculpture had been chosen. After that, she continued working hard to prepare for the First Holy Festival. And now she had been abducted, and no one knew where she was.

How could they simply carry on with their work as if nothing was wrong?

Could it be because Anne wasn’t originally a part of their workshop? Could they have simply used her when it was convenient, only to abandon her in her time of need?

“Mr. Collins!” Keith slipped past Bridget and briskly entered their workspace.

“What are you doing here, Keith?”

Elliott looked up at him in surprise and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. There was a bandage wrapped around his neck, but that was the only difference in his appearance. He was kneading silver sugar as usual.

Also in the room was a man with long black hair tied up in a high ponytail. Half his face was covered in bandages. This had to be the former head candy crafter, Orlando.

“Anne has been abducted, has she not?” Keith demanded.

Elliott fixed his eyes on the silver sugar. He nodded, his hands never stopping their work. “Yeah, she has.”

“And you’re not doing anything?”

“We are doing something. Look—we’re working, aren’t we?”

“I mean doing something to find Anne or to hunt down that fairy.”

“Oh yeah. There’s no way. For now, we’re leaving all that up to the Silver Sugar Viscount.” Elliott spoke as casually as always, but he wouldn’t look at Keith.

“So you’re telling me you’re not doing anything to help Anne?!”

“I mean…we’re working, aren’t we?”

“I’m asking you whether you’re doing anything to help Anne! Why won’t you help her?! Is it because she doesn’t belong to the Paige Workshop?!”

When Keith began shouting, Elliott suddenly lifted his head.

The look in his eyes was terrifying. But before Keith even had the chance to register surprise, Elliott grabbed him by the collar.

“‘She doesn’t belong to the Paige Workshop’?! Don’t joke around!! Anne is our head candy crafter!”

Keith was too shocked to move.

“Elliott!” Orlando tried to get in between them, but Elliott brushed him away harshly with one arm before tightening both hands around Keith’s neck.

“What are we supposed to do?! How do you suggest we tackle an enemy who was too strong even for Challe?! We’re candy crafters! So we’re doing the one thing we can do! Can’t you see that?! We’re doing our best! If we haven’t made any progress on the job by the time Anne comes back, she’ll be devastated. So we’re going ahead with our work!”

Keith was in pain from being strangled, but Elliott’s shouts of frustration and rage were even worse.

“What more do you expect us to do?!” Elliott yelled.

“Elliott, stop it!” Bridget screamed.

Orlando’s face twisted in pain as he grabbed hold of Elliott’s arm. His wound probably hurt.

“Stop! Elliott!”

Having heard the uproar, the other Paige Workshop crafters, as well as Kat, Mithril, and Jonas, came running in from the room next door. Keith was surprised to see Jonas there, and Jonas, his mouth hanging open, must have felt the same about Keith. Neither could have possibly expected to be reunited in such a place, under such circumstances.

One of the Paige Workshop candy crafters—an exceptionally tall and brawny man—ran up to Elliott in a panic and grabbed his arms.

“I dunno what’s going on, but you gotta let him go, Elliott. You’ll kill the guy!”