SBTMK Chapter 13

Contrary to her initial expectation, she was still breathing.

"…That was a fine match. Commander."

She had lost.

Losing was not something she was accustomed to. Every time she had lost to someone, the torrent of reproach and contempt had circled her ears like tinnitus.

'Pick up your sword. Attack! What are you doing? Kill him. Tear him to pieces! I had money on you. So earn it.'

They were absent now. Instead of accusations and resentment, something gentle and worried reached her like a lullaby.

"Flora, are you all right?"

Her eyes were hot. Simen's voice was how she realized she was crying.

She watched him—caught between whether to stanch the wound on her arm or wipe her tears first, going back and forth between the two without deciding.

She had misjudged him. He was an entirely different person from Laviu.

She wanted to strike herself for having placed a man like Simen on the same footing as that human scum unfit even for scrap.

She had thought of Laviu over something this small. Had been seized by that anger and failed to see what was in front of her. The sickness of it—the way her mind had gone there—was pathetic.

"I'm fine, Your Majesty."

"Fine, she says! You're bleeding this much. I'm probably going to die at Eden's hands…"

"I really am fine. It didn't cut deep."

Simen showed no concern for appearances in front of every knight of the Imperial Guard, worrying over a subordinate without restraint. The knights watching him weren't startled by it either.

"Let's head back. I pushed you into something unreasonable."

Flora gathered herself quickly. Simen's worry struck her as excessive, and she felt faintly embarrassed by it—but what could be done. He was that kind of emperor.

A belief took shape: that Haenkan might be a far better place than she had assumed, and not only in terms of welfare.

A hope took shape as well: that staying here, she might become someone slightly different.

It was the moment the values she had measured her life by began to shift.

"Um—Lady Flora? The Commander says when you come next time, please wear something more comfortable and bring your own sword."

Erne had kept his killing intent visible until the moment she turned to leave, and had not addressed a single word to her directly. He had simply sent the message through a subordinate.

Even with a wolf that aloof, Flora no longer felt uneasy around Erne.

"His Imperial Majesty, the Sun of the Empire, I gre— Oh my, Lady Flora! Your dress!"

She made it back to her room without incident, and heard Lugaria's cry.

Lugaria first recoiled at the shredded dress, then made a face of pure revulsion at the wound on her arm.

"Lady Flora, what in the world happened?"

Flora caught the maid's eyes going wide and curved her mouth upward at an awkward angle.

She was weighing what answer to offer when Simen spoke first.

"I had her spar with the Commander of the Guard."

"Your Majesty! Lady Flora hasn't finished recovering. How could you possibly—!"

For a moment Flora worried Lugaria's head might come off her shoulders. It was an unfounded fear. Rather than losing his temper, Simen smiled with an air of sheepishness.

"And to put a sword in a lady's hands while she's wearing a dress, Your Majesty!"

"You're right. I wasn't thinking."

"Is Commander Erne not with you?"

"He's probably still at the Guard training ground…"

The sharp light behind Lugaria's eyes had to be a trick of the light.

Lugaria, who had been in full voice about Erne shredding the dress as well, announced she would go and fetch Eden and left the room.

The room's tension had eased somewhat with Lugaria there, but now that they were alone again, Simen was back to fidgeting like a deflated puppy.

"That must hurt badly. Erne went a bit far, didn't he?"

"I really am fine."

"But you were crying."

"It wasn't the pain."

"…Then what was it?"

He must have genuinely believed it was the pain. Good lord. The way his eyes had gone round—as though there must be some other explanation—was endearing.

"I realized I'm a very deficient person."

"What are you talking about. You fought well enough. The Guard knights were all taken aback by your momentum."

"…"

"That bastard Erne—when it's a live-blade match or an entrance examination he goes until one side bleeds. I didn't think he'd do the same to someone wearing uncomfortable clothes who hasn't fully recovered. So next time, cut him. He deserves it."

It wasn't about swordsmanship.

"I'm sorry, Simen."

"Hm? For what."

"I mistook you for the worst person I know. I thought you'd arranged the match with the Commander on purpose—to humiliate me, or to have me killed."

"…That's absurd. I'm not that kind of person. Is there actually someone like that in the world? How could you possibly compare me to someone that shameless."

"I'm sorry for the misreading. Let me correct it now. Simen is the warmest person I know."

Simen's hand clenched into a fist without his noticing.

"Is that why you said you were deficient?"

"Yes."

"Then the apology is enough. Don't blame yourself further. This one is my fault. I'm the one who made you misread it that way."

Simen's lips moved as though about to say something, stopped, then moved again.

"I thought you'd look stunning holding a sword in a dress. I was curious about your ability, of course—but I wanted that, some foolish want, and didn't properly ask what you wanted."

"…Pardon?"

"I'm still deficient in a lot of ways myself. Saying it out loud—I do sound rather immature, don't I?"

"Wait. So in the end, all of that happened to me because of some strange preference of yours?"

"St—strange preference, that's a peculiar way to put it."

"I'm taking back what I said about you being warm."

"You can't unsay something. I already heard it."

Flora let out a short laugh.

Simen watched her. She had gotten him to say it—that last silly want he had been trying to conceal. And he'd gone and reflected on it, too.

'The warmest person I know.'

He turned the words over quietly and let out a small, involuntary breath of amusement. There was more he wanted to say, but he held it back.

Flora was two rabbits to him at once.

Which was, frankly, an irony.

He was supposed to be the one catching rabbits. So why did it feel like he was the one who'd been caught?

The moment Flora spotted the ripple of violet hair, she thought: it's here.

Eden's golden eyes growing soft and wet. His cheeks going faintly pink.

The imagination alone was pleasant.

"…Lady!"

"Eden. You're here."

But imagination was only imagination. He was not crying. Not that it mattered either way.

Those gentle eyes, those worried words—her mood simply floated.

Eden noticed Simen a beat late and lowered his eyes slightly.

"Your Majesty was here as well. May Arzeka's grace rest upon Your Majesty…"

At Eden's greeting, Simen gave a single nod with an expression that looked faintly uncomfortable.

Eden looked at Flora.

The way she was bracing herself—waiting to be scolded—was plain to read at a glance. How was he supposed to find that anything but endearing.

"I heard from Lug— from Lugaria that you had a live-blade match, Lady."

"…Ah. Yes."

"Didn't I mention it before? That I wanted to see you in good health."

"I'm sorry, Eden. I went outside without listening to you."

"There's more, isn't there. That you're sorry for."

"I'm sorry I got hurt. Your healing sessions will run longer now—I've made more work for you."

Eden's firm voice made Flora shrink for no particular reason. He seemed angry.

Still—she had been the one who chose to go outside despite wanting to. She had been unable to avoid the injury when she should have.

Life never ran smooth in any direction. She felt sorry for having added one more inconvenience to Eden.

In Cenkan, it had been common for a knight to take a blade. Being cut in a spar rather than a mission was somewhat undignified, embarrassing even—but not remarkable. So when wounds weren't serious, she had applied the ointment the healers compounded and been done with it.

Moving aggressively split the wound, extended recovery, left a deeper scar—but it healed clean in about two weeks. Those had been the trade-offs.

To think she would come to miss that ointment. One did live and learn.

"Lady."

"…"

"I think there may be a misunderstanding—treating Lady Flora is not an inconvenience at all. This is my work. If I fail in my duty, how grieved would Arzeka, who gave me this power, be."

Eden's quiet voice arrived sweet and soft, like spun sugar.

"I only wish for your full recovery, Lady. We agreed to go and see the temple together, didn't we."

"…Ah, yes! That's right. The temple."

Good—not an inconvenience, then.

The tension in Flora eased a little. She was about to add that she was looking forward to the temple visit, when Simen's voice cut in first.

"It's rather like there are only two people in this room. The conversation has its own world going on. It sits poorly with me."

"I apologize if it was uncomfortable to hear, Your Majesty."

"You two seem to have grown quite close."

"We have, Your Majesty."

"Yes? She told me she wasn't close with you. That you two weren't close."

Flora's eyes went wide at the bolt that dropped out of nowhere in the middle of the exchange.

'You're bringing that up here? No—why?'

For the first time, Eden's gaze felt sharp. Flora shook her head—it's not like that. Then she glanced sideways up at Simen.

She had hoped he would add something to soften it, but he stood there with his arms folded and his expression entirely unmoved.

To leave it at a remark loaded with room for misunderstanding and then seal his mouth. What exactly are you doing.

She wrinkled her eyes and nose at him. Simen didn't budge. If anything, he shrugged his shoulders looking at her with an expression that said not my problem.

"It's not that—Eden."

"Lady is simply shy, and that's why she answered that way, I think."

Before she could manage any kind of explanation, Eden smoothed it over with a smile.

Flora nodded vigorously. Yes. Exactly that.

"Delusions are free, too."

That part—a little quieter, please.

Flora shot Simen a look.

"It could be my delusion, of course. Then shall we simply become close from now on? I'll have to work at making Lady like me."

A pleasant thing to hear. Flora nodded again.

And then Simen left the room wearing rather a prim expression, which brought the conversation to its end there.

And Flora was able to receive her healing without incident.