Chapter 100
Exion’s ears flushed red. It might have just been a trick of the light. The early morning sun shining through his red hair could have cast that glow.
“Did you hear? Lukwell is a huge metropolis. It sits on a plain with a massive harbor. Every product on the continent has to pass through Lukwell before it can go anywhere else.”
“……”
“That means you can find anything that exists in the world at Lukwell.”
“……”
“Anything.”
Arzeletta tilted her head slightly.
Rosenburg was an enclosed territory surrounded by vast mountain ranges. Her world had consisted entirely of Ragnar’s castle.
She tried to imagine it, but it was hard to picture something she’d never known. All she could recall were the rare, curious items brought by visiting merchants, or the fragrant goods at Madame Florentain’s shop.
Maybe Lukwell had entire piles of such things. It felt like it would be exciting, even a little heart-fluttering.
“Tell me what you need. Or anything you want.”
“Something I need…?”
“I mean I’ll bring it back as a gift.”
Arzeletta mouthed silently, lips parting. Exion’s gaze was drawn in as if he were being pulled, staring at her red lips still marked by bitten wounds.
But he quickly shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He didn’t understand why even her lips bore injuries.
“It’s like a charm—to promise I’ll return safely.”
“Charm, you say….”
“So just name anything.”
Arzeletta rubbed her fingertips awkwardly. To suddenly ask for a gift like that—especially out of the blue—was too difficult a question for someone like her, who had little imagination.
She couldn’t ask for a book, since she couldn’t read. She couldn’t request anything decorative, since nothing was allowed unless the lord gave permission. Of course, most found ways to sneak around the rules and dress themselves up, but Arzeletta had no such slyness. Nor were there people who would simply let her walk the streets adorned.
Above all, she was scared. What if Exion suddenly gave her something incredibly expensive? No matter what anyone said, he lived in a world completely separate from hers. Surely the scale of money he imagined was entirely different from her own.
But he had said it was a charm.
A charm to ensure his safe return—how could she not ask for something?
After thinking it over, Arzeletta cautiously opened her mouth.
“A pastry…”
“A pastry?”
“I want to try a soft pastry. Just a little is fine.”
“They’re delicious.”
Suddenly, the sound of a young girl’s voice echoed in Exion’s ears. The rain from that day came flooding back—the scent of wet grass and moss, all as if it had happened just yesterday.
Even the memory of the moment they had split a rain-soaked pastry and shared it—its taste and feel—returned vividly.
Exion froze, like a man struck through.
Seeing his reaction, Arzeletta’s cheeks turned slightly pink. Maybe he thought her request was too petty.
“…That’s all?”
Exion shrugged. Arzeletta, whose eyes had grown red again, looked up at him once more.
“That’s too plain for a charm, don’t you think?”
“…A flower, then.”
“Hah?”
“A flower that doesn’t bloom in Rosenburg.”
Even a nameless wildflower would be fine. Arzeletta simply wanted to see a flower. What might a flower look like, blooming in a city where the climate and terrain were completely different?
For someone who had never stepped outside this world, it was the most precious gift she could imagine.
And it wouldn’t be hard to get. He could just pick one along the road, and keeping it from wilting for a few days would only cost a few coins. Street magicians often plucked flowers out of boredom and cast a spell over them before handing them to passing children.
“I’ll bring one.”
“…Okay.”
Hearing herself respond that way, Arzeletta suddenly felt a little strange.
It felt like… like she had somehow become someone promised to him. That was the kind of conversation they were having.
“I’ll pick a rare flower you’ve never seen before and bring it back to you.”
“…That’s not what I meant…”
Arzeletta started to protest, then changed her words.
“…Come back safely.”
The corners of her eyes softened. It was a pure smile.
And once again, Exion was left speechless like a fool.
He couldn’t even begin to recall the last time he had seen Arzeletta’s face smiling like that—untouched by sorrow, fear, or bitterness.
His heart ached. He didn’t want to leave her behind. The night he had spent wrestling with his feelings and waiting for dawn had felt too long. The moment the first light of day appeared, he had rushed to find her, determined to kneel before her and make his knight’s oath.
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