TNLA 43

Chapter 43

After returning to her room, Arlen, dragging her body that felt as though it might collapse at any moment, sat by the window and looked down at the inside of Shuel Castle.

Somewhere out there, Ajen was.

You’re alive, somewhere out there…

Somewhere among those countless people bustling about, somewhere between those countless busy buildings.

She knew she wouldn’t be able to see him—no, she knew she mustn’t see him—yet she endlessly scanned between the buildings, over each individual person, searching to see if perhaps he might be there.

First, I have to tell Ajen.
That I’m living well here. That he should forget me and leave alone.
First, I have to somehow call Madam Foer again… and tell him, from here, that I…

Cold.

I have to tell him that I’m happy here, that I’m fine…

The fireplace burned brightly and she was wrapped in a warm fur blanket—so why was she so cold?

At the same time, the paper she had forced herself to swallow made her stomach churn.

Her stomach had been empty for months, barely having eaten anything. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had something that could be called food, only thin soups with almost nothing in them. To have suddenly swallowed paper scraps into such a stomach—no wonder it was roiling.

I can’t throw up.

If she vomited, the note would come out. The maids would discover it before she could do anything. And then everyone in the dressing room would be dragged away.

It was unbearable knowing so many people’s fates rested on a bodily reaction she couldn’t control.

Just then, a maid approached with a tray. Steam rose faintly from a soup that was neither too hot nor too cold.

“My lady, let me help you with your meal.”

As always, the maid took out a napkin and draped it around her neck, then lifted a spoon and brought it to her lips.

Arlen stared at the spoon for a moment, then opened her mouth and swallowed. Another spoonful. And another.

She desperately wished that eating it would calm her stomach.

Kashien had gone to the capital, Barun.

For Arlen, that was a relief.

If he had stayed, she wouldn’t have been able to maintain her composure, or pretend at normalcy. Being touched by those hands, trapped in those arms…

When she wrapped her own arms around herself and shivered, the maid quickly approached with more fur.

“My lady, are you cold? Shall I cover you more?”

Of course, without waiting for an answer, the maid added another layer of fur over the blanket already covering Arlen. They were used to “serving” her without asking what she wanted.

Shuel’s winters weren’t very cold, and today was a mild winter day with good sunlight and calm wind. Unlike usual, when she wasn’t allowed to take even a single step outside, today she had been in the garden.

Because Kashien had been pleased by her human-like reaction, before leaving for the capital, he had allowed a few things the doctors had repeatedly recommended but he had always refused—such as a walk.

Of course, a “walk” meant only that a knight would carry her out to a tea table already set up in the garden, where she could sip warm tea the maids had prepared while basking in the sun and breeze, then be carried back inside again.

But even that was a huge change for someone who had barely left her room for months.

When the knight first lifted her, saying she was going for a walk, she’d thought it was like airing out a doll so it wouldn’t get moldy.

Yet when she actually emerged under the wide blue sky and the cool breeze, still edged with winter’s chill, brushed across her face, she had, before she knew it, let out a languid breath, feeling as though her lungs had opened up.

But the very fact that she had felt even a moment of relief was like molten red iron flooding her insides with self-loathing, burning her black inside.

Only half a year ago, this had been her family’s castle and garden. Everywhere she looked held memories.

That bare, branch-only bush was the rose bush her mother had loved. When spring deepened and roses began to bloom, her mother would pick the brightest, most flawless one and tuck it into her daughter’s hair.

That oak tree, its brown, withered leaves hanging sparsely as though sleeping dead, was the tree she used to climb with Jexion as a child. Jexion, already above, would pull his little sister up by the hand, while below Ajen would push her from underneath.

And this table.

She looked down at the tea table before her.

It was the very table where the whole family used to sit together, laughing and having tea. Opposite her had been her father, to his right her mother, across from them Retbian and Jexion, and around them the familiar faces she’d seen since she was a baby, smiling as they stood.

Now.

She stared at the empty chairs opposite her, and the knights standing around her.

…the very knights who had slaughtered them.

She quietly closed her eyes.

No matter how long it had been since she’d felt fresh air, no matter how long since she’d felt sunlight, she mustn’t allow herself even a moment of relief.

How could she—how dared she—

Seeing her lady’s face go pale again after seeming briefly better, Anna thought this won’t do and deliberately approached her with a bright smile.

“My lady, the master has allowed you to call other merchants too. Which merchant shall we call this time? Last time you ordered a few dresses, so shall we call a jeweler this time?”

Arlen didn’t respond for a while, then slowly raised her head to look at Anna.

Yes. She needed to call a merchant. She had to focus.

What she really wanted was to call Madam Foer. She had something to convey to Ajen. But if, right after seeing dresses, she immediately asked to see dresses again, it would arouse suspicion. Madam Foer would have to be later—after she appeared as though she enjoyed shopping…

“All right.”

“Pardon?”

Not expecting an answer, Anna had almost missed the faint voice and asked again.

“Call… the jeweler…”

“Of course, my lady! I’ll call the jeweler. Shall I call another merchant as well?”

Hearing her lady’s voice for the first time in a while brightened Anna’s face too. She was human, after all—though she had no particular loyalty to her lady, she did feel pity for her. And after meeting the dressmaker last time, things seemed to be improving little by little, which made her feel proud.

Arlen briefly looked up at Anna’s bright smile, then dropped her gaze back to her teacup and, expressionless, took another sip. The winter air had long since cooled it.

Anna took her lady’s changes as a good sign.

Sure enough, in the past few days the amount of food she left uneaten had clearly decreased, and her waking hours and sleeping hours had balanced. She even spoke occasionally.

Of course, a body broken over half a year wouldn’t recover overnight, but still, Anna thought, the lady was definitely improving. Most important was that she seemed to have regained a will to live. Her eyes had focus now, not that blank stare of before.

You really can’t just lock a person in a room like that, Anna thought. If possible, I should try for an outing. Seeing how the master has been lately, maybe he’ll allow it soon.

She felt a quiet pride, like someone watching a wounded animal they’d been nursing start to heal.

“My lady, the jeweler is here downstairs.”

At those words, Arlen, who had been looking out the window, quietly turned to Anna and nodded.

Soon a knight entered the room, slipped his hands under her knees, and lifted her. He carried her down the stairs into the first-floor hall.

Inside, the jeweler and his staff were already waiting with heads bowed.

The knight carefully set Arlen down on a bench and stepped back. Two maids stood by her side.

Only then did the merchants lift their heads and offer their greeting.

“My lady, it’s been a long time. It’s an honor to see you again.”

Arlen looked at the jeweler Oliver’s face. The middle-aged man, with some gray in his hair, was a familiar regular merchant. And in his eyes was full concern for her.

Of course, they must have known.

They must have known how much comfort it was now, for her to see people from before, people she had known in the days when she was ignorant and happy and at peace. They must have deliberately brought a familiar merchant.

Yes, though almost everyone she had loved and cherished had been slaughtered, at least the people she’d known from the territory seemed to still be alive. That, at least, was a relief.

She stared blankly at Oliver’s living, breathing face, then glanced at the faces of his living, breathing staff—

And froze.

Then slowly turned her head back to look at Oliver again.

Did it look natural…?

Cold sweat trickled down her back.

Her heartbeat thudded in her ears.

Could the knights sense even this much of a rise in her heart rate? Maybe? She knew they could pick up on presences normal people couldn’t, but she didn’t know how finely they could perceive it.

It’s fine. They’re watching for external threats, not me. They’re not watching me…

It’s the maids watching me… my expression… I have to control my expression. I’ve been stiff-faced lately—if I keep it stiff, it’ll be fine… no, how stiff has it been? Not this much tension around the mouth, I think.

No, I must’ve seen wrong anyway, it’s definitely a mistake, there’s no need to be so shocked and nervous.

But—

If it was true, if it really was—

She looked over the staff’s faces again. Naturally—how was it supposed to look “natural” again? Was her neck making creaking sounds as she turned it?

The moment “natural” became necessary, every movement felt unnatural. She couldn’t remember what natural was.

She knew at least one thing: she mustn’t linger on any one face too long, or stare too intently. She had to glance, briefly, at each person, calmly, naturally…

And there he was.