MB Chapter 30

Ekser was not sociable, and Goiyo only found conversation easy when there was someone else to lead it along. Between the two of them, any pretense of pleasantries was dispensed with entirely, and they moved immediately to the matter at hand.

"Wortien."

At Goiyo's call, a round droplet of water formed at her fingertips and became a smooth, sleek whale.

Ekser's eyes traveled slowly from the whale's head to the tip of its tail, taking stock.

"Still small. The self seems to be in the early stages of formation as well. Though given when the summoning occurred, the growth isn't slow."

Whether Wortien would be ready enough by the time of the hunting competition was another question—but it was the obvious concern, and Goiyo simply nodded.

Ekser seemed to have already thought ahead. He moved directly to strategy.

"The volume of water is too limited to make full use of water pressure for direct attack. Indirect application would serve better."

"Indirect meaning..."

"Sealing the nose and mouth with droplets, or obscuring vision—that kind of application shouldn't be difficult even with a small amount."

Goiyo's expression shifted almost imperceptibly. Blocking breath, blinding prey—the hunting competition was, by its nature, the hunting of animals, which made all of this entirely logical. Confronted with the practical reality of it, however, she found it somewhat more brutal than she had imagined.

'Would it be possible to stun them without killing, then let them go?' She turned the alternative over in her mind, but it had the feeling of a deceit about it—a kindness that didn't hold up under examination.

If it really comes to it, I can always just observe and come back, as Razine said.

Ekser went on to describe other methods: compressing the water forcefully to sweep a foot out from under something, or making the ground slick exactly where prey was about to step. These approaches sounded considerably more peaceful than what had come before.

When the explanation was finished, Goiyo immediately set to working with the whale.

Moving it slowly was familiar by now, but accelerating it, compressing it—these were new, and the attempts came unsteadily. Ekser watched without intervening unless something went wrong, in which case he offered correction; if a better approach existed, he mentioned it.

The moments he spoke were precisely timed, and Goiyo assumed his attention was fixed entirely on the whale. But the man's complicated expression had settled on something else entirely.

'Why did Lady Chloe draw this young woman into the promise?'

His master had never fully trusted him, nor chosen to keep him close. He knew that Goiyo Rubiette was bound up in the promise between Chloe and Entzi, but not the reason behind it—and every time he had asked Entzi, no answer had come.

He had not even been instructed to look into Goiyo's background, which meant he could not investigate privately either.

When he was told to help Goiyo learn to work with her spirit, Ekser had hoped for some thread to pull. But that hope had been cut short by the instruction that followed.

Do not say a word to Goiyo about Chloe.

What possible connection could there be.

His thoughts had gone too deep; the gaze he'd trained on Goiyo had grown heavy. She turned to look at him.

"Is there something you wanted to say?"

"It's noth—"

He stopped himself before the automatic reply could complete itself.

In that moment, Ekser registered it: there was no hidden guard on Goiyo. Those assigned to shadow someone in secret were concealed well enough that ordinary people could not sense them at all—but Ekser's perception was well beyond ordinary.

Then again, within the mansion grounds, there would be no particular need.

Which meant nothing would stop him from asking—and no one would intervene before she answered. If he was found out afterward, he would take the punishment.

Ekser's loyalty to Entzi was genuine. It simply did not exceed his loyalty to Chloe.

If Chloe had been alive, he would never have come to serve Entzi at all.

"...My lady—do you know a Lady Chloe? Chloe Balverdi?"

"Pardon?"

"Lady Chloe Balverdi. Have you ever encountered her, even in passing?"

It was a question that sounded even-tempered. It was, in truth, desperate.

Goiyo's brow creased slightly at the name. Balverdi—a name she had not heard in some time, and was not glad to hear now.

"Balverdi is my mother's family, but I don't know who in particular might be there. They never once came to Rubiette after my mother married."

'Goiyo's maternal family is Balverdi?'

The unknown fact made Ekser's eyes go wide.

"Is that so. ...Forgive me for asking, but may I inquire as to your mother's name?"

"Arzla Rubiette. Before her marriage, Arzla Balverdi."

Arzla Balverdi. He had been connected to House Balverdi for considerable time—and yet the name did not come to him immediately. He searched back through old memory. A face he had encountered once or twice, perhaps—a faint, unsteady shape surfacing from somewhere distant. Chloe's cousin.

'Then this woman is Lady Chloe's fifth cousin once removed.'

He had uncovered a connection he hadn't known existed. And yet Ekser's expression did not lighten. The relation was too distant to be called family in any meaningful sense—and Chloe was not the sort of person who felt anything in particular for family even when it was close.

If Ekser Prebesk, who had always been at Chloe's side, had seen Arzla's face fewer than three times, Chloe and Arzla could not have been close.

Then for what reason—by what logic—

"But why are you asking?"

"Ah—my lady somewhat resembles her. I found myself wondering. Forgive me."

A sufficient answer, plainly delivered. Ekser gathered his expression back into order.

The days of Goiyo seeking instruction from Ekser continued.

When Razine made contact again, Goiyo had planned to explain she had found help elsewhere and ask her to hold off for the time being—but after lending the books, Razine Eliom had not sent word.

Having heard what Entzi said, the silence had become faintly unsettling in its own way. But Goiyo told herself it was for the best.

Following Ekser's guidance, Goiyo came to understand that working with a spirit required something beyond simple concentration.

On days when she had spent hours calling Wortien and directing it, she would find her breath high and tight in her chest come evening—though she had not moved her body at all.

When Ekser explained that it drew on the body's energy and stamina just as working with mana did, she accepted it readily.

The growth was swift in any case: the small whale had grown plump enough to fill both her arms, and Goiyo's constitution had strengthened alongside it.

But fatigue and weariness remained unchanged—and so an afternoon nap became a fixed point in Goiyo's daily schedule.

Today was the same. She had washed and was sleeping through the afternoon. In the ordinary course of things she would have remained with her eyes closed until evening—but a strange sensation, of herself rising and falling, brought her awake earlier than usual.

What she saw was not her room, but the corridor of the mansion. And what she was lying in was not the small bed in her room, but the curve of someone's arms.

Entzi was walking, carrying her—one hand beneath her back, the other behind her knees.

Still half-mired in sleep, Goiyo spoke in a blurred voice.

"Is it already evening? Are you moving me to the bedroom?"

"No. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes—I keep sleeping lately, I'm so tired."

"Good."

"But where are we—"

"Goiyo. A few days ago, I said I'd like you to grant me something I want. Do you remember?"

Through a slow sequence of blinks, it came back to her. Entzi's words: in exchange for his help with spirits, he would like her to do something for him.

"I'd like you to do it today."

"What is it you'd like me to do?"

"Nothing too demanding. You'll only need to choose, one by one, from the options I give you."

"Choose?"

"Yes. Both are fine or I don't mind either—none of that. You must choose one or the other, and that is all."

"I don't understand what you mean."

That's all right. You'll see shortly.

He said it with a smile, and it was clear that further questions would yield nothing. Asking where they were going would fare no better.

She gave up asking. And then, a beat later, the particular way Entzi was carrying her made itself felt.

Should I ask him to put me down?

Goiyo took hold of his arm—but before she could put the words together, he tightened the arms holding her, as though in preemptive refusal.

'Never mind. I'm tired anyway, and this isn't the first time.'

Lady Bethelgius settled into practiced resignation and changed the subject.

"Ekser told me something interesting today."

"What?"

"He said it isn't only water magic you can use with a water spirit. If you expand the range, you can freeze water as well, and there are other ancillary abilities available."

"Purification and regeneration."

The correct answer came from Entzi's mouth without a pause.

"Yes, exactly. It can't restore something like a severed limb the way a priest's miracle might—but for enhancing the body's natural healing, spirits are reportedly superior."

"A remarkable ability. You'll be able to do it, I'm sure."

"Help me a little later on, when I get that far. There's no magic you can't do."

"On the contrary—healing magic is where my talent fails me entirely. I'm quite incapable of it."

"Truly?"

"Truly. So please—do not get hurt."

We're here. He said it, and set her down.

The room at which they had arrived was vast—one she recognized from the tour of the mansion on her first day. But where it had been empty then, purposeless, it was now filled end to end with dresses—every direction she looked, the eye encountered more.

In the center, maids stood waiting. Two of them each held a dress.

One was a red gown whose hem fell in layered curves, gathering and opening like the petals of a rose. The other was a navy blue velvet dress, plain, unadorned, without a single detail to distinguish it.

Goiyo looked at both. Then Entzi spoke.

"Your first choice, Goiyo. Which would you like to wear?"

"Setting aside why you're suddenly having me put on a dress—aren't the options rather narrow?"

"Is the rose dress too ornate?"

"No, the one next to it is too pl—"

The words stopped in her throat.

She had been about to say the navy blue velvet was too plain. The dress without ornament or distinction—the kind she had worn, without question, for year upon year. And yet the word plain had risen to her lips as a judgment against something foreign.

Watching his wife's bewilderment with perfect composure, Entzi pretended not to notice.

"Isn't it rather more in the style you usually wear?"

"I suppose it is."

Had Entzi swept her along until she truly came to love ornate things? Or had she simply grown accustomed to the look of them?

A strange feeling—but not an unpleasant one. Under his steady, waiting gaze, Goiyo said, slowly:

"I'll wear the first one."

Having made her choice, she watched Entzi leave the dressing room. The moment he was gone, the maids came forward, helped her into the elaborate gown, and began to work on her face.

It took less time than she'd expected. The dress that had seemed oppressive simply to look at proved more comfortable than she had feared. All in all, Goiyo felt more or less at ease.

He must have known when she was finished, because Entzi reappeared almost immediately. He, too, had changed.

His everyday clothes had always been fine enough, she had thought—but there was, of course, no comparing them to this.

And this suits him better.

A face that met lavish dress without conceding anything, without being overwhelmed. It struck her as remarkable in the way that familiar things sometimes become remarkable again.

He smiled at her as she regarded him, and offered his arm. Goiyo took the escort and stepped out of the room.

"But truly—why the dress?"

"You'll see shortly."

He led her toward the dining room, his expression pleasantly impenetrable.

A formal dinner in evening wear—perhaps he simply wanted a change of pace. Goiyo half-formed the thought, and then let it go when she saw what waited inside: two long tables, set side by side.

One was laid with a banquet that made every meal she'd eaten here before seem modest by comparison—abundance upon abundance, every inch occupied. The other was a small, plain arrangement of simple dishes that barely claimed a quarter of its table, a modest island in a sea of empty cloth.

This, too, is a choice. Before Entzi could ask, Goiyo walked toward the modest table.

"That one over there is too much."

Unexpected—but Entzi Bethelgius did not miss a step. He snapped his fingers.

The table Goiyo had been walking toward disappeared.

She turned to him, startled.

He regarded her with all the warmth of someone explaining a very simple misunderstanding.

"You've mistaken the situation, I think. Dinner is not one of the choices."