BPOTWC Chapter 27

Since a little snow had fallen on the first day of the new year, Clarisse called Noah out to the garden as soon as breakfast was finished.

"Today we absolutely have to build a snowman!"

"What's brought this on all of a sudden?"

At his question, Clarisse lifted her chin proudly and told him something she herself had only recently learned.

"Sheridan children build snowmen. And then they compete over whose house has the finer one."

"What meaning is there in such a thing?"

"Well, first of all, they said it's every house's pride to set a snowman up in front of the building."

"Truly meaningless."

"And besides, a finished snowman is very cute."

"To impose one's own aesthetic standards upon others is a wretched habit."

"...Do you really dislike it?"

"I do."

"Then I suppose it can't be helped."

Clarisse turned away, quite disappointed.

She had hoped to build a snowman together with her newly made friend, if at all possible, but she couldn't very well force him into something he didn't want to do.

"But—"

Heading toward the front entrance, Clarisse noticed something odd and turned back.

Noah, who had sworn he would never under any circumstances build a snowman, was following along about five steps behind her.

"Why are you following me?"

"I—I merely thought I'd tag along, if only to o-observe."

It seemed he only meant to watch.

But once they were actually outside and Clarisse began rolling a great ball of snow, he lent his aid, little by little, through magic.

He even used magic to safely lift the enormous completed head into place.

Clarisse, amazed that magic she'd only heard about could prove so useful, clapped her hands for him several times over.

After merrily finishing the snowman and setting it up at the entrance, they returned to Clarisse's room, where Rosalie brought them each a cup of warm milk.

The two sat facing each other before the fireplace, drinking it.

Noah lifted his mask slightly to drink the milk.

"That looks uncomfortable."

Clarisse hinted, gently, that she wished he'd take the mask off.

"It isn't uncomfortable."

But Noah cut this off so flatly there was nothing more to say.

Come to think of it, even the Duke had said nothing more about Noah's mask—it did seem strange for Clarisse to go presuming to meddle in it.

"If it's not uncomfortable, that's a relief. I like it—the cat face is cute."

Clarisse simply decided to accept the mask as part of her friend.

"...Its purpose is not to be cute."

"But it really is."

Clarisse said this with a face full of happy smiles, then, as though something had occurred to her, gave a little "Ah!"

"You know, I've been thinking about what we could play at the Sheridan estate. It would be fun to paint pictures with pretty paints. Does Noah like drawing?"

"What meaning is there in drawing such things?"

"There you go again."

Perhaps finding his reaction just as amusing as before, Clarisse set down her milk cup and laughed softly.

"There's a huge, huge bell tower at the estate too, and the food's super good, and... anyway, it'll be fun!"

Clarisse pictured every corner of the Sheridan estate with Noah standing right beside her in each one.

Somehow her heart raced.

There were so many things she wanted to try with the first friend her own age she'd ever had.

'It would be a problem if Mallangie got upset... No, wait.'

Worrying over the feelings of Mallangie, who had until now been her only friend, Clarisse suddenly hit upon a good idea.

'Noah and Mallangie can become friends too.'

Just as Clarisse had become friends with Noah's red pebble.

"Ah, that's right."

Clarisse stood up and went to fetch the red pebble she'd tucked away in a small drawer.

"Here, I'll give it back. He's your friend."

Noah accepted it without protest. Last time he'd seemed as though he barely wanted it at all.

"You should pack it carefully in your bag? You said you're leaving for Sheridan this afternoon."

"There seems to be... some misunderstanding."

"It would be nice if we could ride in the same carriage. Should I ask the Duke?"

"There's truly no need to go so far. I do not intend to accompany you to Sheridan."

"Wha—?!"

"I am not going."

Clarisse's mind seemed to go stiff and blank all at once. It was simply too strange.

The friends she knew were always supposed to be together. Just as Mallangie and she were always together.

In books, too, friends never parted and always faced hardship side by side.

"Me and... Noah are friends, though?"

"Friends, yes, but do we not each have our own road to walk? I must study the fallen golem here—within it lies some truth long unrevealed?"

"B-but."

Clarisse tried to protest something, but the words wouldn't come out properly.

After stumbling for a good while, all that finally emerged was this:

"I... just... wanted to play together."

The girl felt a small pang of dislike for her own mouth, which couldn't produce fine words the way Noah's could.

"I am busy."

Clarisse looked ready to burst into tears at any moment.

"Busy, but—hm... I suppose I must come to Sheridan once a month, at least."

At what he said, fussing with his mask, Clarisse's head shot up.

"Really?"

He answered, sounding a touch bewildered himself, at the question asked with her amber eyes gone round.

"I have an arrangement to give the Duke regular reports."

Clarisse thought, of course, His Grace really is the best, and clasped both hands tight against her chest.

"So then we can meet up and play in Sheridan? Right?"

"...Did I not say I would be going to make a report?"

"But when we meet again, you'll greet me, won't you? You'll ask how I've been, won't you?"

"I shall not ask."

"Why?"

Even as she asked, on the verge of tears, something like a small laugh seemed to come from behind his mask.

"Before that, the young maiden shall have sent me a letter asking after my well-being."

"That's..."

"And in that case, I too shall write a proper reply, as courtesy demands."

"...!"

Clarisse's heart gave a thump.

Receiving a letter from someone else—especially from a friend—was something that had never once happened to her in her life.

"D-do you really mean you'll write to me?"

Clarisse asked, coming right up close to his mask.

"I—I do, yes..."

"What do I do, I'm so happy."

Clarisse quickly took hold of both his hands. Without so much as asking his leave.

"I'll wait for your reply every single day."

He hastily pulled both hands free and looked around, flustered.

"M-more to the point, young maiden."

"Yes?"

He drew the red pebble from his pocket and pressed it into Clarisse's hand.

"This is..."

〈Oh, girl. My thanks for becoming Noah's friend.〉

"Huh? No, no. I'm the one who's happy."

Answering naturally, Clarisse glanced carefully at Noah's expression.

Wondering just why he'd suddenly handed this over.

"You really are speaking with it."

"Mm...? Noah, can't you hear it?"

Clarisse asked, puzzled.

Because to her, this pebble and Noah felt like very close, connected things.

If she had to compare it to something, it felt something like the way the four stones that made up Mallangie formed one tightly bound relationship.

Of course, Noah was human, so he couldn't possibly become one with a stone.

"I hear nothing at all, in any case. I only sense that a full moon's worth of mana lies within it."

He shrugged his shoulders and gently pushed away the hand Clarisse held the stone in.

"So take it."

"Huh...? Me?"

Clarisse looked back and forth between the pebble and Noah. However she looked at it, the two seemed as though they ought to stay together.

"It seems precious to Noah."

"That is..."

Noah seemed about to explain something, but he thought better of it and shook his head instead.

"In any case, the young maiden shall take it."

Clarisse held the pebble Noah had handed her with both hands. It seemed the red pebble was asleep again, for there was nothing more to be heard from it.

"Th-thank... you."

"And."

Noah glanced around them for a moment. Rosalie, who had brought them their milk, had stepped out briefly to dry her wet boots.

"Have you ever told anyone that you speak with stones? A human, that is."

Clarisse shook her head.

Noah knew because of the red pebble, and because they were friends, so she hadn't especially hidden it from him.

Ordinarily, Clarisse told no one at all of this.

"Actually, I'm keeping it a secret."

A small sigh of relief slipped out from between his mask.

"Then why did you ask...?"

"Does the young maiden wish for a peaceful life?"

"More than that, I want to become a splendid eighteen-year-old."

"To achieve that, you shall certainly need peace. But such a life does not come to one who reveals their power."

"Power...? I just listen to things, that's all."

Even at her words, he shook his head.

"Keep on doing only that. Do not even seek to learn the name of that power, and simply, on days when you are in difficulty, ask the way of the nearest stone—living quietly, in just that manner, is best."

"Mm... all right."

"That is fortunate to hear."

Somehow, deep concern seemed to color Noah's voice.

"It sounds like Noah is worried about me."

"I merely lend you what wisdom I have. It seems, in any case, the young maiden would not... hold up well, in a cruel mage's castle."

"A mage's tower? Me?"

"Tut! I said there was no need to know more."

Since he shook his head, recoiling as if the very thought disgusted him, Clarisse decided not to ask any further about the mages' castle.

Could it be he'd suffered something painful in such a place?

If that were so, she could understand it. Even Clarisse felt her shoulders draw in whenever she spoke of Grezekaia.

"But then, what should I give you?"

Noah had given her his precious red pebble as a gift. She wanted to give something in return worthy of it, but Clarisse had nothing on hand at the moment.

"Hmm."

Tilting her head this way and that as she puzzled over it, Clarisse noticed the white ribbon swaying alongside her pink hair.

"Ah!"

Clarisse quickly pulled and undid the ribbon on her right.

It left her hair tied on only one side, but she didn't mind that now.

"I'll tie your hair for you."

"Wh-what do you think you're doing!"

While the flustered Noah turned his head this way and that, Clarisse took her place behind him.

"Hold still, or I'll tie it wrong."

At Clarisse's threat, the boy seemed to give up, letting his face drop between his knees.

"...Do as you like."

Clarisse swept his hair, which fell all the way to his waist, together with her fingers, gathering it into one.

"It's so pretty."

His hair, the color of a summer sky, seemed to carry a lovely scent as well.

"Do not impose your aesthetic standards on me."

"But it's true."

"...."

She was struggling a little with tying the ribbon when Rosalie happened to return.

Rosalie, a master of ribbons, tied Noah's hair into a pretty bow shape.

And Clarisse's hair, undone on one side, she finished to match, with the very same knot.

Standing before the mirror with matching hairstyles, Clarisse was overjoyed—

"...I cannot possibly show my face to anyone else looking like this."

—while Noah sank down and buried his mask completely between his knees.

That afternoon, Maximilian boarded the carriage bound for Sheridan.

After a short wait, the Duchess and Clarisse approached, walking hand in hand.

His gaze went naturally to their joined hands.

Somehow, the back of his own hand seemed to warm, too. Though that must have only been his imagination.

'Last night... I must have simply been out of my mind.'

While she'd been utterly absorbed in watching the fireworks, the backs of their hands had remained pressed together the entire time.