PDCOO Chapter 17

A big guy who couldn't communicate.

Definitely Bertram's story.

"...Though my soldiers shouldn't be nodding along to that."

"We'll correct ourselves!"

No more information to gain from the traffickers. Since Bertram was definitely in this city, they'd have to search on foot from here.

The soldiers filed out one by one.

The traffickers sighed in relief briefly.

When the fourth soldier—who looked peculiarly gentle-featured, perhaps due to his glasses—gripped the door handle, Franz spoke.

"Erich."

"Yes!"

"Go outside and close the door."

The soldier called Erich did as instructed. Not only that—they heard him lean against the door as if standing watch.

An ominous premonition crept down the traffickers' spines.

Franz remained in the interrogation room. He smiled pleasantly and lifted his foot.

"'That bastard' being a big guy who can't communicate is true."

"Huh?"

"But you lot shouldn't dare call 'that person' a big guy."

Franz's boot stamped down on their mouths.

The chief drank steadily all evening. At that rate, he'd blow through the wolf pelt money on liquor by night's end. Anna kept adding spirits to his cup, so he needed Bertram's support several times for bathroom trips.

Well, some soldier came into the restaurant looking around for someone, but that was none of Anna's concern.

Before long, the chief passed out. Bertram hauled him upstairs and dumped him on the men's room bed at the inn.

Anna's job was to tuck him in while grumbling.

"The chief lives his life for himself alone. I bet he'll wake at dawn tomorrow and complain, 'Young people these days are so lazy!' Even if he orders you around tomorrow, Bertram, just ignore him completely."

"Does he do this every market day?"

"No. He knows where he can stretch his legs. He only acts like this when I'm with him."

"In other words, he trusts you."

Anna narrowed her eyes.

"Don't interpret things charitably for the chief."

"...My apologies."

"Well, I might become the next chief. Still doesn't make this okay though."

"Hm? The chieftainship isn't hereditary?"

"What's so special about running a backwater village? Just people who like troublesome work taking turns at it. Usually men do it, but I do several jobs in this village. Maybe in twenty years it could be me."

Anna spoke each word clearly, with obvious pride. An emotion Bertram could understand.

But the sentence that followed was harder to grasp.

"Who else would take responsibility for this damn village if not me? Haa."

"You dislike your home village?"

"Huh? No. If I disliked it, I wouldn't take responsibility."

"You sighed."

"Ahaha, no. You know how old friends or married couples joke about finding each other tiresome when they see each other's faces? But they're fond of each other. That kind of feeling."

"Married couples can grow tired of each other?"

Bertram's innocently curious eyes turned toward Anna.

Normally the height difference would make his expression hard to see, but he happened to be sitting on the bed, so their faces were clearly visible to each other.

Anna felt like a five-year-old child was bombarding her with questions.

"I have never been married myself, but I know that at wedding ceremonies, happy couples pledge eternal love. Can that eternal pledge fade with time?"

"W-well, yes. People have feelings. Even my parents—before Father passed away—often said things like 'oh, that person's annoying' to each other. After Dad died, Mom regretted it..."

"My parents, though they've passed now, would wake each morning in the same bed and ask each other, 'did you have a good journey in last night's dream without me?'"

Anna's mouth fell open. This bear of a man grew up among people that saccharine? And for their child to know such bedroom conversations meant the family relationship was close and warm. Where did such national treasures come from?

Then Bertram said something absurd.

"Of course, if that's wisdom you gained from your own married life, I couldn't presume to call it mistaken."

"I've never been married! Not once in my life! I've never even had a boyfriend!"

"..."

"...Yes. I'm sorry. I haven't married, but all the couples around me give off an atmosphere of 'love my ass,' so I assumed everyone was like that."

She still thought so, actually.

But there was no need to insist couples inevitably grow tired of each other, then live together out of affection before someone who believed in eternal love.

Bertram accepted her apology.

"Thank you for speaking honestly. I pray that you encounter someone you can love eternally."

"Yes, you too."

Anna answered lifelessly.

But Bertram's response to that lifeless voice was heavy.

"Understood. After I regain my emotions—when I finally meet my companion, I will devote eternal love to them. This is a pledge upon all my footsteps and the entirety of my remaining life."

Though she knew he wasn't speaking to her, Anna's face turned scarlet.

Speaking in that deep yet elegant voice was cheating. It made her heart lurch all at once.

Hearing such words from a groom at a wedding ceremony would leave you chewing on them until the day they carried you to your grave.

'B-but he's not saying it to me! Heart, stop beating so foolishly. Hmm? Calm down!'

"...Anna. Your cheeks are red. Are you drunk?"

"Uh—"

She wasn't drunk. She'd only had a few beers.

But unwilling to admit her face had flushed from hearing a hypothetical proposal, Anna made something up.

"The alcohol must be hitting me now."

"Then I'll escort you to the women's room."

"What? ...Kyaa!"

Bertram immediately scooped Anna up.

Even the chief had seemed boyish compared to Bertram's size, but Anna dangled like a cat. The image of Anna held in Bertram's single arm contained not a speck of romance. Anna felt this acutely as she was transported in those solid arms.

"Put me down. I can walk!"

"No. The chief asked me to look after everyone until the end, so I'm merely fulfilling that duty."

"What could possibly happen walking down a hallway!"

Bertram didn't listen to Anna's opinion.

He strode into the women's room, carefully laid Anna down, and placed a cup of water within reach for nighttime. Removing her shoes was included as a bonus.

This seemed excessive, so Anna shouted:

"I-I can do it myself!"

"But..."

"This is too much! ...Oh, Lara. Good timing. Why are you standing in the hallway? Help me out here!"

Anna desperately sought an ally.

But far from agreeing with Anna, Lara simply peered into the room from the hallway with a flushed face.

"...Lara. Why aren't you coming in?"

"...I'll give you space."

"Huh?"

"I-I didn't know you two had pledged your love! But for tonight to be your last together is so sad! I-I'll just give you some privacy. Thirty minutes should be enough, right? I can't give you more!"

"Wait, hey! What nonsense have you been hearing from where!"

"Have a wonderful time!"

You've completely misunderstood so right now come in the room right this instant close the door and spit out the piping hot romantic misunderstanding filling your head—

Before that sentence could emerge—

The door closed.

Lara scurried down the hallway.

Bertram held Anna's shoes and addressed the frozen Anna.

"...Should I put them on for you, or carry you? If you plan to chase Lara, the latter would be faster."

This man's brain really only runs fast in useless directions. Anna sighed inwardly. She didn't want to waste more energy.

'Thirty minutes.'

Lara had nearly been kidnapped by traffickers today, so she definitely wouldn't do anything dangerous. At most, she'd kill time in the inn's first-floor dining room.

The misunderstanding could be cleared up later when they shared a room.

But these thirty minutes were the last with Bertram.

Having finally made up her mind, Anna turned to face Bertram.

Among the vagrants she'd taken in, there'd been quite a few unusual people. Strong people, handsome people. Bertram was unparalleled in strangeness, strength, and handsomeness, but he hadn't drawn unparalleled interest from Anna.

But the moment she heard that 'hypothetical confession' earlier, a different interest arose in Anna.

With a scarlet face, she asked him:

Because Bertram had no emotions, because he was someone she would soon part with, Anna could ask this question.

"Um... how do people who've sworn to love each other forever actually, you know... love each other?"

The moment the words left her mouth, Anna waved her hands in embarrassment.

"I know this is a weird question to ask! I know, but..."

"Please speak freely. I won't judge your intentions."

"Right. Well... everyone around me says it's wise to marry someone from the same village. They think childhood crushes are cute, but if you talk about 'marrying for love,' they all laugh at you. They say those feelings will disappear anyway, so if you marry based on that, you'll only get hurt."

Boys who read chivalric literature and dreamed of their own lady were mocked.

Girls who wanted to receive flower bouquets from their lovers were scolded: 'Rather than receiving useless things like that, it's wiser to get fabric to make clothes.'

This atmosphere in the village had only worsened after the war.