NB Chapter 7

"Speaking of which, where's Irene?"

When his mother's name came up, Gale's lips twitched slightly.

Though his face wasn't clearly visible in the darkness, his displeasure was palpable.

"What did you tell Irene when you left the south?"

"......"

"Gale Harold?"

He wasn't asleep, but no answer came. Growing puzzled, Magnolia asked with a sinking feeling.

"Don't tell me you just left without saying anything?"

"......"

His continued silence confirmed her suspicions. Magnolia was aghast.

"Why would you do that? Oh my!"

"What."

"She must be so worried about you!"

"Who? Irene?"

Gale snorted. Irene Harold wasn't that kind of person.

He knew Irene was completely different from Zycklint. While Gale Harold was certainly insensitive and callous enough, Irene Harold was cut from a different cloth. She seemed like someone who knew nothing but ennui.

He understood that the word "family" had kept the two of them together all this time. And while Irene might not have cared, Gale at least made a show of minimal effort to maintain that relationship. An unannounced departure wasn't exactly conducive to relationship maintenance.

Magnolia narrowed her eyes and asked.

"Did you fight with Irene?"

"......"

"You did fight."

Gale made a small ugh sound of distress.

"Why?"

"It's nothing serious."

"What do you mean, nothing serious?"

Faced with her persistent questioning, Gale looked up at the ceiling, sighed, and sat up. Resting his arm on one raised knee, he massaged his forehead before turning his head toward Magnolia.

Gale's pale blue eyes appeared vivid even in the inn room where not a sliver of light penetrated. His gaze lingered on Magnolia for a moment before shifting to the window.

"...She changed her tune."

"Changed what tune?"

"She used to say I didn't have to do it if I didn't want to, but suddenly she wants me to start seriously preparing to inherit."

"What? The mercenary company?"

Gale nodded silently, his hair falling into disarray. Magnolia quietly observed the way it scattered.

In the dark room, his ash-gray hair looked pitch black. Magnolia's hair that had grown down to near her nape tickled before Gale's eyes.

Irene's voice circled in his mind, low and muttering as she ruffled through Gale's hair: 'It's time for a cut.'

"Don't you want to inherit the mercenary company, Gale?"

"I hate it. It's a hassle."

"But you have been doing the work."

He occasionally took on light commissions or helped with major ones. She'd seen him organizing and categorizing nobility-related commissions that had been handled by Irene's closest associates. Some of the work was entirely under Gale's management.

"Besides, you know the personal information of the intelligence mercenaries. That's classified information, isn't it? Didn't Irene tell you about it?"

'Tell me?' He'd just raided the safe in Irene's study. Gale only muttered this to himself.

"No."

Gale rubbed the back of his neck slowly, clearly irritated. He really seemed to hate the idea.

"Then is there something you do want to do?"

Gale's gaze returned to Magnolia.

"...Well, I've never really thought about it."

"Have I ever said it?"

"Said what?"

"Thank you."

After Zycklint died, Gale had stayed by Magnolia's side. He came early every morning to wake Magnolia and returned only after confirming she'd fallen asleep at night. Magnolia didn't know, but on nights when she was tormented by nightmares, he'd sit beside the bed and spend more than a few nights uncomfortably.

He fed the listless Magnolia who did nothing, made her get fresh air, and practice swordplay. When there were things to be done, he led Magnolia around, never once showing that he found it bothersome or troublesome.

Gale never left Magnolia's side, not for a moment.

He didn't leave her alone to dwell on the night Zycklint died.

Even after opening Zycklint's drawer, Gale followed Magnolia. For over a year, Gale helped Magnolia without expecting any reward.

Magnolia knew well that even childhood friends who'd grown up together from an early age couldn't easily help with such things.

"Without you, I never could have made it this far...."

Magnolia's pale eyelashes blinked slowly, heavy with drowsiness, then stopped moving altogether.

"Mag."

"......"

The room was quiet. As the silence settled, Magnolia's thin breathing became audible. Gale habitually counted her breaths before noticing that Magnolia's hand had slipped out from under the covers.

Quietly sitting up, Gale pulled the blanket up to Magnolia's neck. When he carefully touched her hair, it was mostly dry.

As he adjusted the covers, Gale unconsciously searched for the mole above Magnolia's left eyelid.

It was a faint spot shaped like a small smudge, smaller than a pinky nail, but clearly visible thanks to her unusually pale eyelashes and skin. It was a mole that disappeared under her eyelid when her eyes were open, and Magnolia didn't know she had such a mark.

Zycklint had told him about it. Remembering how she'd whispered about it with a mischievous face, as if sharing a truly important secret, made his heart heavy.

After gazing at it quietly for a moment, Gale returned to his own bed and sat on the edge. Magnolia's pale blonde hair seemed to shine. Gale traced that hair with his eyes as he recalled that day from years ago.

It was the day he'd gone early in the morning to check on Magnolia, who he was worried about since she'd returned home completely drenched in an unseasonable heavy autumn rain.

That day, that scene, remained vividly in Gale's mind.

He'd first sensed something was wrong when he found the door unlocked.

It felt as if a chill was seeping out through the crack of the door, and when he opened it, the metallic smell of blood hit his nose first. When he rushed in, startled, the first thing he saw were countless bloodstains scattered across the living room.

Those dark red marks made Gale gasp. Magnolia was sitting collapsed in the middle of the living room.

Struggling to keep his balance as his body swayed, Gale barely managed to reach Magnolia. There he could see Zycklint lying dead beside her.

'Mag... what is... this....'

'...Gale. I......'

At that moment, Magnolia's face entered his vision.

Gale dry-washed his face. He wanted to stop thinking about it, but his head arbitrarily dredged up what came after.

At the time, Gale's hands, wet with sweat from tension and fear, barely moved. His trembling hands grasped Magnolia's hand that was holding Zycklint's.

It was chillingly cold. As he warmed Magnolia's hand with his body heat, Gale couldn't help but think about Magnolia's night.

From that moment on, Gale never left Magnolia alone.

The friction with Irene began around that time. She came out to watch him prepare to leave at dawn, which was unusual for her, then suddenly thrust an armful of documents at him.

'What's this?'

'Documents about the mercenary company branch we're establishing up north.'

'What am I supposed to do with it?'

'You're taking charge of it.'

'What's that supposed to mean? I'm busy.'

When Gale tried to put down the documents and leave, Irene hurriedly grabbed him and spat out her words as if chewing them.

'You're my only son. Who else would I leave the mercenary company to?'

His straight eyebrows furrowed slightly. They'd already settled this matter long ago.

Gale had no interest in the mercenary company whatsoever. He was helping with current work because it was an easy way to earn pocket money with experience that wouldn't hurt to have.

Irene had blandly accepted her son's unilateral declaration.

His maternal grandfather had also obtained the leadership position by pushing aside the former company leader's legitimate heir, so there was no particular reason it had to be passed to blood relatives. Irene wasn't particularly attached to that either.

That should have been the end of it.

But afterward, Irene continued to bring up this issue with Gale from time to time.

'How long are you going to follow that Magnolia girl around playing nursemaid?'

One day, this remark from Irene the moment she saw his face after waiting for him to return was the final straw.

Gale, who had been lying in wait just like Irene, thought 'she's picked her day,' and threw the bag he was shouldering onto the floor.

'If you have more to say, finish it.'

'Would you actually listen?'

'If it's worth hearing.'

Sparks flew in Irene's eyes as she glared at Gale.

'What's so special about that stupid girl that she's more important than yourself? Are you a fool or an idiot?'

'Why would you say it like that?'

At Gale's irritated response as he rubbed the back of his neck, Irene's expression went blank for a moment.

Irene raised both hands lightly, stood there dumbfounded with her mouth open in disbelief, then repeated Gale's words exactly.

'Why would you say it like that?' I never expected to hear such words from you of all people.'

'Right. I never expected to hear such things from my mother of all people. Whether I play nursemaid or not, why the sudden interest?'

'Would you have looked after me like that if I had been like Magnolia?'

At those words, Gale spoke as if truly incredulous.

'If I died, would you grieve for me like that?'

Gale threw a question back at her question, and Irene didn't answer. But they both could tell what each other's answer would be. Irene and Gale were different from Zycklint and Magnolia.

The two of them were a mother and son pair who resembled each other exactly, as if looking in a mirror.

Irene ground her teeth and shot Gale a resentful look. During that period, Irene had been under severe stress for some reason. Someone who had been indifferent to everything in the world and even nonchalant about her own son's affairs had suddenly changed enough to pick fights to that degree.

He couldn't understand at all where she was getting stressed from and why she was making Magnolia an excuse to vent her irritation at him.

Sigh. Gale lay down again after letting out another sigh.

He needed to sleep. He had things to do tomorrow. Get up, first bring water for washing.... His thoughts continued past Schmidt's forge all the way to the dagger.

Gale frowned.

No matter how he thought about it, leaving their address at Schmidt's forge bothered him. He had a feeling that tracking down the dagger hadn't been a good choice. An inexplicable sense of unease raised its head.