MB Chapter 35

The hunting competition had begun.

Razine Eliom had excused herself to attend to some matter, and so when the opening trumpet sounded, Goiyo was alone.

Several people moved to offer their assistance, but the pitch-black intentions visible behind their smiling eyes were altogether too obvious, and Goiyo declined every offer without exception.

She had made her own calculation: catching at most one rabbit shouldn't require anyone's help.

The calculation had not survived contact with the rabbits.

They weren't quite as fleet as she'd imagined. That much was manageable. The problem was that every time she reached out with Wortien to cut off a wild creature's breath, her hand kept stopping. She had already let the fourth rabbit go on its way, unharmed.

Swallowing a sigh, Goiyo wandered deeper into the forest—and came upon a lake of brilliant blue.

Could this be the legendary mermaid lake? Razine Eliom's words drifted through her mind.

She moved to the water's edge. The lake was so clear it almost hurt to look at—translucent and cool, reflecting the full canopy of the forest above and the shapes of drifting clouds with perfect fidelity.

And along with them: the dim, blurred face of a woman.

'Maybe I'll just look around and leave.'

Many people had registered for the competition simply to enjoy Ramona Forest's scenery, she'd heard. There was nothing wrong with wandering for a while and going home empty-handed. The forest and the lake were quite beautiful, after all—just as Razine Eliom had said.

And Wortien had grown considerably through one thing and another. She hadn't entirely failed her original purpose.

She was arranging these justifications into a tidy pile, bringing her ambivalent feelings into some order, when the undergrowth stirred.

Rustle. Something moving through the brush—and then the quiet awareness of an approaching presence. Another rabbit, perhaps—

She looked up, and a white deer stepped into view.

Still not quite full-grown—only a little larger than Wortien—the deer was lapping at the water's edge to wet its dry throat, cutting sidelong glances at Goiyo all the while. Entirely unlike the rabbits, which had bolted the instant they sensed a human presence. The creature seemed to know by instinct that Goiyo Bethelgius meant it no harm.

White to the tips of its antlers, the deer finished drinking and then—remarkably enough—actually approached her.

Goiyo startled and stepped back, but watching the animal snuffle the air toward her, she could make a fair guess at its intentions.

"This?"

The deer's gaze had fixed on the snack bag she'd received at the start of the competition. She'd been told it had been treated to eliminate scent, but judging by the creature's intent stare, it had apparently been given treats from one before.

The crackling-crunch of the bag brought it closer still, until it eventually ate from her outstretched hand.

Strange, to have a wild thing so near—practically pressing into her arms. Goiyo opened the bag in silence and held it out.

The deer drew fully against her. Then, from somewhere deep in the forest— bang—

"Oh—!"

The deer lurched into the air and bolted. The problem was that in that startled leap, its antler caught the handkerchief knotted in Goiyo's hair.

Her hair came undone in one smooth sweep. Flustered, she broke into a run after the deer, a length of blue cloth trailing from its antler.

"Wait—just a moment—!"

Whether she had forgotten the dignity that was drilled into an aristocrat from birth, or whether she had simply stopped caring, she ran after the fluttering blue cloth regardless.

Her improved stamina, however, had its limits when it came to keeping pace with a deer.

As the white shape drew further ahead, panic pressed upward in her chest. She summoned Wortien and tried to trip the creature's legs—but the water burst uselessly each time, startling the deer without slowing it. Again. And again. And again.

She ran until her lungs hit their limit, repeating the same futile thing over and over—until the water scattered across the ground made the deer's hooves slip, and it stumbled over a tree root and went down.

Only after the deer lost consciousness could Goiyo finally reach the handkerchief. She pressed a hand to her hammering heart and worked the cloth free from the antler.

It was torn.

Her hand tightened around it.

'What is this.'

'What did I even come here to do.'

Her hair was an absolute mess. The situation was beyond sighing—irritation had reached the top of her head and settled there.

Goiyo had no idea what she was doing.

What was even the point of growing Wortien. It didn't have to be a hunting competition for that. And anyway—

She was going to die regardless.

Was there any meaning in raising a whale when the end was already written?

So what if her whale grew to the size of a dolphin. So what if it grew at all—why had she gotten so worked up, declared herself ready to do something she'd never once done in her entire life, over that.

Impulse. Caprice. Whatever she called it, none of it held up. She should never have bothered. The first time she'd ever actually felt something like motivation, and this was what it amounted to.

'Enough.'

She tightened her grip on the torn handkerchief, breathed out what irritation she could, and turned toward the starting point.

A gust of wind rose.

Something strange brushed her nose—a faint, unfamiliar scent—and as she took her first two steps away, she heard the undergrowth stir behind her.

Another deer, perhaps. Or a rabbit. It hardly mattered at this point.

She had no particular intention of looking back. But the large shadow falling across the ground in front of her was another matter.

She turned.

Growl. A large gray wolf was watching her.

Even inside the carriage, her heart was beating too hard to breathe against. Emily Renier pressed her palm flat to her chest.

The corruption she had committed was of the ordinary kind—the sort every aristocrat committed without a second thought. The fault lay entirely with whoever had decided to make an example of it. She'd barely survived, and at what cost.

The tiger who had allowed her to operate as she pleased had not lent its power this time. Watching it extract itself as though the years she'd spent at its side had never existed, her teeth ground with fury.

Having cast her off, he'd probably discovered there was no one left who'd flatter him quite so well.

All those years of playing servant to him. Every last bit of it, forgotten the instant it became inconvenient—and she'd simply been discarded.

The sub-marquess of Prityl had offered something that sounded like an apology— when I become Marquess, I'll help you—but Emily Renier did not believe that whisper.

As if she'd fall for it a second time.

She was not the one who had done wrong. Was it not the greater stupidity—the greater cowardice—to simply suffer because one lacked the power? A chance for revenge had come, and she was not the kind of person too afraid to take it.

She didn't know exactly what would happen. But the competition had started; it would come soon.

She had done exactly as instructed—started a confrontation in full view of as many witnesses as possible. With that many eyes watching, no one could suspect her of a thing. Public provocation as cover. A clean solution.

And yet the anxiety would not leave. Her hands kept folding and folding in her lap.

She opened her mouth to urge the driver faster—

And found, strangely, that no sound would come out.

Kkhh— nhk.

The heart that had been rattling uneasy in her chest began to constrict—sharply, painfully. Emily Renier twisted against it, clutching at her chest.

She pried her mouth open to call for help, and what came out barely crawled.

"S— somebody— help— help—"

Then the small body leaned sideways and fell, and only the sound of wheels turning remained.

Thk. A blade drove through the forehead of the wolf facing her.

The great body crumpled without so much as a dying cry. Goiyo stared at it blankly—and from behind the carcass, a familiar face emerged.

"Are you all right, Lady Bethelgius!"

Razine Eliom. Her hair in disarray, her clothes bearing every sign of having moved through rough terrain at speed.

"I'm sorry. I meant to find you sooner—I was too slow."

"Dame Eliom...?"

"To explain myself—I wasn't certain enough to act on it, so I thought I'd confront Emily Renier first and confirm. I hadn't expected to lose track of you in the meantime. I assumed the Marquess's protective detail would be with you, so I thought you were safe—and then I remembered he'd planned to accompany you himself, which meant they might not be there, and I came as quickly as I could—"

"Calm down, Dame Eliom. Nothing has happened yet."

Goiyo's words cut through the rambling. Razine Eliom drew a breath, though her face remained flushed with self-reproach. 'Thank goodness.'

"I have every excuse available to me—but the largest part of my reasoning was 'it'll probably be fine,' and that was my failure."

"I'm not sure I follow. You went to confront Emily Renier? Is there some connection between her and that monster?"

A flash—almost like instinct—Entzi Bethelgius's voice crossing her memory:

'There's no particular danger from ordinary human perfumes. Even if someone were going around with a scent designed to attract monsters—that would only be a problem for others. I'd be fine, naturally.'

"A monster-attracting scent," Goiyo said.

"...Yes. It was likely transferred when she bumped into you earlier. The scent was similar to the one I gave you, so I wasn't certain at first."

Emily Renier had not been someone who carried herself with much confidence when alone—the fact that she'd picked a fight and immediately disappeared had already seemed strange. So she had another purpose, Goiyo thought, nodding slowly.

The encounter had been startling. But from the moment she'd watched the wolf crumple, something in her had gone strangely calm. She knew exactly what needed to be done.

"We need to remove the scent first. There's a lake nearby."

"I'll escort you back to the starting point. That lake is too deep—it isn't safe."

"There are spectators all along the route back. We don't know how strong the scent is. Going back as we are now is the more dangerous option."

"Then there's no need to deliberate—you could simply summon Wortien. Water from a water spirit is said to have purifying properties. The wet clothes would be inconvenient, though; I'll lend you my jacket."

"I keep forgetting."

Then allow me. Goiyo bowed her head briefly to Razine Eliom in advance thanks and summoned Wortien.

Between the deer chase and the exertion since, simply summoning the whale left her body heavy—but there was no other option.

She reached out to let Wortien clear the scent from her—and a hand came to rest on her shoulder.

Razine Eliom, who had sensed nothing, went for her sword—and found she could not move a single finger.

Goiyo knew the feeling at once. She turned.

Her husband's face looked back at her.

"It's still rather cold for bathing outdoors, my lady."

The man with the unhurried expression she had grown, by now, almost accustomed to: Entzi Bethelgius.

"...The expert course is some distance from here, isn't it."

"I did enter the expert course—owing to a foolish subordinate's arrangements—though it isn't so far."

"One step, by your standards of teleportation?"

"You know me well."

He narrowed his eyes in a smile and pressed his hand on her shoulder just slightly firmer.

Something cool and clean began where Entzi Bethelgius’s hand rested, spiraling gracefully around her in a single, whorling arc—before settling. Her body felt strangely, inexplicably lighter.

Goiyo blinked. Entzi Bethelgius let a small laugh escape him.

"That should do it. Purification magic is not entirely outside my range of talents."