MHHC Chapter 119

Forms of Respect

Charlotte's hand trembled as she swept it across the shoulder Adelheid had touched.

Her voice, choked with fear, sounded alien—as if she'd never heard such a sound from her own throat before.

"Suddenly, I mean… how did you…?"

In that moment, Adelheid felt she might dimly understand Charlotte's state of mind—something she'd thought herself incapable of comprehending for all eternity.

A pitiable woman who had wielded power not her own as if it belonged to her, who had come to believe that ability had been hers from the beginning, cultivated by her own effort.

When she lost that power to someone else's caprice, she must have been consumed by defeat so complete it defied description. Morig's cruel games with human destiny were precisely this horrific.

"It's likely a matter of mindset."

Adelheid offered an answer calculated to sound appropriately honest.

"Let me be clear, Charlotte. I don't desire revenge. Instead of wasting energy on such things, with this power that might vanish at any moment…"

If the moment came when her power disappeared again, could she herself avoid despair as complete as Charlotte's? Adelheid barely managed to continue.

"I intend to do my utmost to care for those around me. I'll work hard toward that. So there will be no regrets later."

"…"

"So I hope you'll overcome your fear as well."

Sister. Normally Charlotte would have recoiled from that word, but now, remarkably, she remained quiet.

Charlotte couldn't see what Adelheid could see, so she wouldn't know precisely what had occurred.

But she seemed to have felt clearly enough that the something that had been crushing her power had finally vanished.

'And that I was the one who resolved it.'

Charlotte stared at Adelheid with eyes that might have held either hatred or admiration—impossible to distinguish. Then, without a word of farewell, she brushed past and left the room.

The journey north proved smoother than the trip south had been.

Familiarity with the route played a part, but the primary reason was the change of seasons. When they'd first traveled south, it had been early spring verging on winter; now the weather approached the cusp of early summer.

The frozen ground had thawed, streams burbled gently, and trees lining both sides of the highway flaunted verdant leaves that cast pleasant shade.

Adelheid sat obediently inside the carriage reading, or opened the window to leisurely enjoy a rare moment of peace.

After a full half-day's travel from the last village, the sun began its slow descent. In the mountains, as always, darkness came early.

"We'll rest here briefly."

At Valentin's command, knights and carriages halted in unified precision.

While soldiers established camp, Adelheid wandered nearby with Margaret, gathering dry branches for firewood.

It had rained a few days prior, so careful inspection was required to ensure the wood hadn't soaked through.

The cook soldiers used the armload of kindling she delivered to build a campfire and set water to boil in their pots.

While dinner preparations progressed, Adelheid moved among several struggling soldiers without pause, casting simple recovery spells.

"Thank you, Your Grace."

The soldier who'd requested healing for shoulder pain rolled his right shoulder with a satisfied expression as he offered his gratitude. Adelheid relaxed slightly at his visibly improved condition.

"Tell me whenever you need it. It doesn't take much effort on my part."

Those who'd initially refused with suspicion now sometimes approached first, having learned that Adelheid's recovery spells proved effective.

"Adele."

Adelheid lifted her head from the ankle of the last soldier she'd been examining. Valentin, now dressed in casual attire, stood at the forest's edge gesturing for her to approach.

"Come here."

"Is something wrong?"

She hurried forward, brushing dirt from her skirt hem, and he linked their arms with a crooked smile.

"The moment I'm careless, you revert straight to formal address."

"Ah…"

Adelheid glanced at nearby Ansgar knights and whispered.

"There are too many watching eyes."

If she used polite speech with the soldiers, she could hardly address her husband the Grand Duke informally.

At least for now, it was better to exercise maximum restraint from conspicuous behavior.

Most Ansgarians accepted the explanation of "healing arts" and treated her without prejudice, but a few undeniably harbored hostility.

Such individuals typically had personal experience losing family to monsters.

"They'll think I don't respect my husband. That I behave this way because I'm a 'monster,' that I'm difficult to control. There's no need to give those who already hate me further ammunition."

She paused, meeting Valentin's gaze.

"So for now, please accommodate me. When we're alone, I'll do as you wished…"

"The problem isn't the words but the psychological distance that still hasn't closed. You managed informal speech with your former nursemaid just fine."

"That was…"

Because she wasn't you, the words rose to her throat.

Becoming conscious of her affection for Valentin and feeling comfortable with him were actually separate matters. Not something she could change in a short time, either.

Adelheid had lived an ordinary life—wretched, even—spending some twenty years utterly removed from magic or divine authority.

Someone who'd lived as a commoner couldn't behave overnight as if she stood equal to a god.

However, since he wanted it so badly, she'd been making maximum effort thus far…

"In any case, from now on we can communicate through will, so the problem resolves itself. Do as you find comfortable."

"…Is that really all right?"

"Just promise me you'll gradually improve."

He smiled faintly, watching her brighten.

"Because someday I want to see you shouting at me, angry with me."

"That would be utterly impossible…"

"I'm both greedy and persistent. And I'm confident in my ability to wait."

He laughed pleasantly and strode ahead around a large tree.

She hadn't thought they'd walked far, but a small clearing appeared. Only then did Adelheid realize they'd moved quite distant from human presence.

"This place…"

"You need a quiet location to practice authority. You're not tired, are you?"

The moment he answered, a gentle breeze tousled his hair. Valentin swept the disheveled strands back with one hand, watching her.

"Of course not."

Adelheid felt that at some indeterminate point, Valentin had shed yet another "shell."

He now acted and spoke as if perfectly adapted to his human body.

The parts that had produced subtle dissonance had worn smooth with use; now she seemed to be watching well-fitted gears operating smoothly in their proper positions.

If she sought flaws deliberately, perhaps his appearance remained too splendid for a human? That flawless skin without a single blemish, features carved in perfect proportion—they never failed to make reality feel distant.

Even now, like this, she could only stare as if entranced, unable to form a single thought.

"…"

The moment their eyes met, time itself seemed to slow.

Leaves drifting down above their heads, the rushing sound of wind, even the occasional cricket song—every sensation sharpened to pierce awareness.

The crisp scent of grass and fresh earth, sunlight pouring leisurely across her cheek, the tremor of breath carried through the air.

"…"

Valentin's gaze, initially almost playful, deepened profoundly in mere seconds.

He watched her with eyes intense as wildfire that refused to extinguish.

What image of her did his eyes hold that would make him wear such an expression? The yearning she felt from him seemed hot enough to touch.

As if fire spreading from tinder, she felt herself slowly heating in response just from standing near him.

Adelheid stepped toward Valentin without conscious thought. As she drew closer, his gaze darkened with something more dangerous.

"Valentin…"

Their breath could tangle at this distance. When Adelheid cautiously reached to caress his cheek, Valentin's throat—still as sculpture—convulsed sharply.

"Don't, Adele, I'm…"

As if only now recognizing this as reality, Valentin's face—frozen expressionless until this moment—twisted.

He grasped her shoulders with trembling hands and gently pushed her back.

"…Don't do this."

His other hand covered his mouth and nose as he turned his head away. As if she emanated some foul stench.

Adelheid blinked rapidly in confusion. For that instant, she'd believed he felt what she felt simultaneously. Had it all been her imagination? She asked, unable to believe it.

"Does this make you uncomfortable?"

The disappointment threading through Adelheid's voice made Valentin shake his head urgently.

"It's not that."

"Then what?"

He twisted his lips as if uncertain how to explain. His mouth worked several times in aborted attempts before he finally released a groan-like sigh.

"This is my failure. I thought I must restrain myself, that I could restrain myself, but increasingly… it grows more difficult."

"I don't understand what you mean. What exactly must you restrain to such an extent?"

"Adele. Step back. Just a little."

"If you don't tell me now, I'll misunderstand…"

The moment she innocently touched his arm again, Valentin seized her and pressed her against a nearby tree.

Her back scraped slightly against the rough, hard bark. More startling than painful.

Adelheid looked up at Valentin, buried in the shadow he cast.

His breathing came labored, like someone truly ill. Her gaze caught briefly on his heaving chest and the prominent tendons of his throat.

"Adele, I…"

The hand gripping her shoulder trembled finely.

"Now, whenever I see you, I feel hunger like a beggar who hasn't eaten in a month."

"…"

"I want to lick, chew, bite, and devour every part of you—from that tender nape to your fingertips, your toes. I want to bury my face like a dog in the authority flowing from you, to claim it all as mine."