TRHK Chapter 13

By all accounts, Joel Courtner was a bright and capable young man, unlike the Count and Countess, who were said to have rather quiet temperaments. Perhaps that was why the castle had a livelier air about it than it had in some time.

"Maylin!"

"Oh. Did you call me?"

"Are you feeling unwell? Why are you so out of it today?"

After Eifel, several of the other maids had started speaking to her. Among them, small and pretty Beth was eyeing her with open suspicion.

"No. I'm fine."

"The head maid says to help for a little longer, then go back to the elderly noblewoman."

"Okay. Thank you."

"Pull yourself together."

Maylin helped with the hall for a little while longer as instructed, then went to attend to the noblewoman.

When she returned to the room that night, an exhausted Eifel was waiting for her.

"Ah, today was truly—"

Maylin had managed to rest in between while attending to the noblewoman, but the other maids preparing for the party would have had little chance to do the same. She handed over the herbal water she'd brought, and Eifel gave a small, helpless laugh.

"You really are like some kind of physician. But thank you."

It was the same variety of herb she'd used for Seyron, but blended differently with other herbs, it became something that restored energy. Perhaps because she'd already tried it several times and seen the results, Eifel drank it without a word of complaint, nothing like the reluctance of the first time.

Watching her drink, Maylin asked carefully:

"When is Joel Courtner supposed to arrive?"

"His letter said he'd come quickly. But there's some distance—at least ten days, I'd think?"

Ten days. Could she break the binding contract within ten days? For that, she'd need to cure Kahron's Madness and find the contract document the Count had hidden away somewhere. No matter how she turned it over, the time was impossibly tight.

Then there was nothing for it but to avoid Joel Courtner.

She sincerely prayed he wouldn't visit the noblewoman's chambers while she was there.

"Oh, right. That red-haired knight of yours."

Eifel changed the subject abruptly—going so far as to use the peculiar phrasing your red-haired knight. She set the empty bottle on the nightstand and continued:

"Apparently he was summoned by the Count recently. My boyfriend thinks the Count intends to formally grant him a title and bring him into the knight order."

A title?

The Count had certainly tried to do this in the original novel, too—not to keep Kahron as a guest, but to formally bind him to the order. Kahron had refused every time.

"Isn't that good news for you? Then you'd have a noble for a boyfriend."

The question snapped her back.

No, it knocked her right back out of it.

"Jealous. Mine hasn't gotten a title."

"...What do you mean, boyfriend?"

"Hm? Me and mine?"

Maylin shook her head quickly. "No. Before that."

Eifel let out an oh and replied without any particular concern. "You and that red-haired knight of yours—who else would I mean?"

Only then did Maylin understand why every conversation about Kahron with Eifel had always felt slightly off. Eifel had, this entire time, been under the impression that Maylin and Kahron were involved the way she and Hwirozen were.

"We're not together, Eifel."

She said it plainly, immediately. She was worried about it reaching Kahron's ears. If he found out that people thought they were a couple, she had no idea how he would react.

She genuinely had no idea.

"...You're not?"

"Really. We're not."

"You're not? ...Why not?"

As if not being together required a reason. He had done some strange things, certainly, but neither of them had taken that as any kind of tacit romantic signal—or so she'd been operating under the assumption.

For one thing, no one looked at their lover with that much disinterest. He made a show of being annoyed every time she asked him to the forest. And yet he so clearly enjoyed tormenting her, and—when he kissed her—

Her thoughts were trying to drift somewhere they had no business going. She cut them off.

Seemingly immune to her odd behavior by now, Eifel muttered, "Not together? But..."

"..."

"Fine. If you say so, then so be it. Let's sleep."

They pulled their blankets up and lay down.

That night, Maylin couldn't sleep. Too many thoughts.

Kahron.

Joel Courtner.

Kahron.

Joel Courtner.

Kahron.

Two names that had taken up residence in her head lately. And one of them was currently fighting a monster.

SCREEEEEE!

Could you even call it a fight? Kahron dealing with the monsters—great centipede-like things—was less a battle than a systematic extermination. Almost leisurely. Almost peaceful, if you ignored the carnage.

The situation had become familiar enough that Maylin moved around gathering usable herbs while he worked. The important ones, however, she still couldn't find.

They'd returned to the forest several times since finding the first two varieties. The remaining herbs were nowhere. This was the only forest in the area. Were they simply not here?

"I couldn't find them..."

She told him when he came back from finishing off the monsters. She'd wanted to inspire confidence in him. That confidence was eroding.

"I don't think this approach is going to work. I'll need to go to the black market and ask if the herbs can be sourced there."

The mention of a black market got a reaction from even the typically unresponsive Kahron.

"You know about the black market?"

It wasn't exactly hidden knowledge. She felt a vague, entirely unwarranted pang of guilt and tried not to show it.

"It's—it's common knowledge..."

Kahron smiled faintly at her uncertain answer. He seemed inclined to let it go.

She looked at his sword, soaked in blood. She braced herself, half-expecting him to wipe it on her skirt again, but he just flicked it clean a few times and sheathed it. He hadn't actually done that since the first time, come to think of it.

"Do you dislike the Count's house?"

Filling the silence on the walk back had become Maylin's established role, much like monster-killing was his. She'd heard from Eifel that he'd refused the Count's latest offer, which had made her curious enough to ask.

She wasn't entirely ignorant of why Kahron wouldn't take bait like a title. From what she knew, he'd likely been a noble himself, once. Letting on that she knew that would set off his suspicion all over again, so she kept it to herself.

"Why would I dislike it. They give me food and monsters."

He answered. Straightforwardly, even.

She'd never heard anyone put food and monsters in the same sentence quite like that, but it was, in its way, understandable. Was that also why he was oddly responsive to Knight Commander Landale's orders?

"Then what about me?"

She'd meant to ask for reassurance—that he'd deal with the binding contract once she cured the Madness. That was not what came out.

A brief silence followed. Cold sweat prickled down her back.

"I—I said that wrong. What I meant was—"

"What are you giving me?"

Kahron smiled as he said it. The effect was deeply unfair. He looked like a painting on an ordinary day; when he turned that smile on her with apparent intent, it was hazardous to her health.

"As I've said, I can cure your Madness—but I need to gather all the herbs first—"

"Not that." A pause. "Maylin."

Why did he say her name like that?

He moved toward her. She moved back exactly as much. Nothing about this felt safe.

"Are you going to keep saying boring things?"

Boring things. As if there was anything more important she could say to him than I can cure your Madness.

He pressed her back against a tree, blocking her in, and breathed slowly against her ear. Whoosh.

Goosebumps rose across her skin—not the ordinary kind. A stranger, more troubling variety. She didn't know what she was thinking. She wasn't sure she wanted to.

"W—what is it that you want?"

"Hmm..."

Kahron bent his head and pressed his lips to her neck. The sensation of his mouth on bare skin was startlingly immediate. She shivered.

"I had a dream."

"..."

"You were crying in it."

The unexpected subject—a dream—drained all the tension out of her shoulders.

Kahron continued, his voice close against her ear: "Do you know what I did?"

She didn't mind the conversation, really. She'd just prefer some distance. Every time his breath touched the shell of her ear, it twitched involuntarily.

She said the first thing that came to mind.

"You killed me?"

"..."

An expression of incredulity spread slowly across his face.

Well—he'd said she was crying. What else would she be crying about, in a dream with Kahron in it? He'd probably been trying to kill her. Or maybe dream-Kahron had killed her because he didn't want to watch her cry.

She suspected dream-Kahron had an even worse personality than the real one.

Kahron pulled back. His expression had gone flat in a way that was oddly disgruntled—somewhere between deflated and dissatisfied, though she couldn't have said why.

They walked after that. Maylin still didn't understand what had just passed between them.

She was bad enough at reading people in general. Kahron was in another category entirely.

"Kahron."

"..."

"Thank you for coming with me again today."

She'd be more grateful if he'd stop doing strange things. Though she couldn't say with certainty that she actually hated them, which was its own separate problem.

"I'm not coming anymore," he muttered, like a complaint.

She knew he didn't mean it, but explained in thorough detail anyway—just in case—why the forest trips remained necessary. He spent the entire walk in through one ear and out the other.

They returned to the castle relatively early that day.

If she had known what was waiting for them—a party, for Joel Courtner—she would never have come back early at all.

"Maylin! Come quickly. Lord Joel has arrived!"

The maids' faces were alight with excitement. Joel Courtner appeared to be welcomed by everyone except her.

No—Kahron too. He was the kind of person who wouldn't welcome anyone.