Welcome to the Demon’s Cabin - Chapter 17

Irene held out a vase full of white peonies and spoke in a gentle voice. Her tone seemed as if she were trying to soothe a visibly gloomy Idris.

“Tada! It is pretty, right? I found that the peonies bloomed a bit early this year.”

“……Is that so?”

“Yes. Originally, they bloom a few weeks later than this.”

Idris, who slowly shifted his gaze toward the vase, remained silent. A white damp towel was placed upon his forehead as he lay on the bed. Although he still looked sickly, a smile of relief appeared on Irene’s face upon seeing his complexion, which was much better than before.

“Do you know how startled I was earlier? If you are in pain, you should say so. You just kept saying you were fine.”

“I have nothing to say for myself.”

Irene let out a sigh as she recalled the events by the lakeside. While strolling, she had turned around to find Idris’s face suddenly pale. Wondering if a single warning about not being able to leave had been that much of a shock, she looked closely to find his face drenched in cold sweat.

Upon hurriedly feeling his forehead, she found he was burning with a fever. Startled, she had dragged him straight back and laid him in bed.

Honestly, she felt a twinge of guilt. She had dragged out a person who had been awake for less than an hour after being forced into a several-day slumber. If his body had been strained, that likely played a large part.

However, Irene thought to herself with a slight pout.

‘To think a knight wouldn’t even know the state of his own body, honestly.’

Since she felt the presence of an aura, she had assumed he would be incredibly sturdy when she dragged him along for a walk, but he was unexpectedly weak.

This would not do. She must never make him do anything overexerting from now on. He was the first precious person she could actually talk to since becoming a monster. She would never let him break in such a futile way.

Irene made a firm vow and carefully set the vase down again. While examining the white peonies, a thought occurred to her, and she tossed out a question.

“Mr. Idris, do you have a specific flower you like?”

“I am quite the novice in such matters. But if I had to choose one, I believe I like the anemone the most.”

“Really? What a coincidence! I like the anemone the most as well.”

Irene, who had picked up the needle she had left on the table, laughed as if amused while threading a dark strand through the eye.

The sight of him answering her so calmly without showing any repulsion was something she never grew tired of seeing.

“What color do you like best?”

“I like red the best. And you, Ms. Irene?”

“I like purple the best.”

Wow. That was an unexpected answer.

She had naturally assumed he would say he liked white best. She could never understand it, but those religious fanatics usually had an obsession with the color white. Fortunately, it seemed Idris’s case was not that severe.

“Is there a particular reason you came to like the anemone?”

“Not particularly. And you, Ms. Irene?”

“It was a flower my younger sister liked, so I came to like it too. That girl, who did not have a lick of interest in flowers, was uniquely fond of the anemone.”

In truth, saying she found them delicious would be more accurate, but regardless, liking is liking. What kind of common-sense love for flowers could one expect from a child who was not even human.

Idris’s blue eyes wavered slightly with surprise. That small movement stilled once more before Irene could even notice it.

“Mr. Idris, do you have any siblings?”

“No, I am an only child.”

An only child? That was unexpected. Since he was so composed for his age, she had assumed he would be the eldest son with a string of younger siblings.

She suspected it might be a lie, but she pushed the thought far away, having decided not to indulge in such needlessly tiring thoughts. Irene smiled to hide her stray musings.

“Aha. Then it is just the three of you, your parents and yourself? Simple and nice.”

After saying it, a sudden wave of longing washed over her. Her home looked exactly like that. Kind parents and a cute daughter. It was a small, happy family that was always harmonious and warm.

Though it was now nothing more than a dream to which she could never return.

“No. My father is not around. It is just the two of us, my mother and I.”

“……!”

Irene’s eyes widened in surprise.

She had not expected that at all.

How should she put it. Simply, most people have families without missing members. And Idris seemed like such a bright, perfectly raised person.

Irene, feeling apologetic, lowered her brows and apologized to Idris.

“I am sorry. I did not know. He must have been at a young age, for such a thing to happen……”

“Pardon? What do you mean by that……? Ah, that is not it. It is not that he passed away, I meant it literally.”

“……Excuse me?”

“I do not have a father. He simply does not exist.”

Unlike Irene, who was too flustered to continue her words, Idris’s tone was as if it were no big deal. His face, too, was the picture of tranquility.

“Of course he must exist physically, but I do not know who he is. My mother likely does not know either. I am not particularly curious, either.”

“Oh, I, I see. I, well, that is, it is, well……”

At the utterly unexpected bombshell, Irene could not continue her words and stuttered as if she had malfunctioned. She clearly intended to answer, but she could not complete a sentence. It felt as if her brain had frozen.

‘To not know his father at all, does that mean he is illegitimate……?’

Illegitimate. She had not intended to pry into such intimate family matters. Truly. She had just been curious about his family relations, and she did not know why things had turned out this way. Irene could not hide her bewildered expression.

As Irene spent a long time struggling to pick her words in her flustered state, Idris gave a faint smile as if it were nothing.

“You do not have to feel that sorry. It is no big deal.”

“……Still, I am sorry.”

“It truly does not matter. Even if you had laughed at me instead of being surprised, I would not have been hurt, so do not let it weigh on you.”

“…….”

Seeing that calm smile as if he were used to it made her feel even more apologetic.

Well, that was likely the case. How much criticism and mockery must he have faced until now for the sole reason of how he was born. Her reaction would be nothing to him.

‘And yet this person has done nothing wrong; he was simply born.’

She felt uncomfortable, wondering if she had touched a sore spot. She felt as if she had become some legendary villain of character.

She had to change the subject.

That thought alone filled Irene’s head. She hurriedly rummaged through her memories. Barely managing to find a mundane topic she had usually been curious about, she asked Idris while trying her best to act as if nothing were wrong.

“Oh, by the way, there was something I was curious about regarding the Crescent Empire. I heard that they always give animal dolls on a child’s first birthday?”

“Yes, that is correct. Some buy them, and some parents make them themselves.”

“So it was true. Then, Mr. Idris, what kind of animal doll did you receive?”

“Ah, I did not receive one.”

“…….”

Irene decided to just shut her mouth.

* * *

Anathema Year 19, May 11th. Weather: Clear.

Mr. Idris’s fever had completely broken by the time he woke up. Since he could not sleep soundly, I debated whether I should sing him a lullaby like last time, but deciding against it was a wise choice. It is not particularly harmful, but it is not good to hear it often.

Since he might fall ill again if he goes out recklessly, I decided to just show him around the cabin today. Actually, this is the correct order of things, but because I was so distracted by the thought of showing him the lake yesterday……