Welcome to the Demon’s Cabin - Chapter 47

‘But if he is only composed on the outside and is actually that anxious, will he reach his limit soon? Ah, this is troublesome. I should not keep teasing him, but it does not go as I wish.’

She looked down at Idris through pupils that were as ordinary, black, and round as anything in the world. Once started, her thoughts branched out without end until they reached her red eyes, which were incomparably more spine-chilling than his.

‘In the first place, he could appear at any moment and ask what I am doing instead of killing him, or if I have forgotten the promise.’

That was right. Either way, he was a man who could die as soon as tomorrow. Irene blinked her large eyes with a renewed sense of the situation. To think that he was breathing so vividly before her eyes, yet he would disappear…….

Irene instinctively reached down. Her slender fingers brushed against his soft blonde hair.

“Miss Irene?”

Idris, reacting keenly, turned his gaze upward.

Upon seeing those blue eyes, Irene gave a thin smile and pressed down firmly on his head. His blonde hair, shimmering in the sunlight, was thoroughly mussed.

His handsome face was instantly colored with embarrassment. Watching him, Irene laughed mischievously.

“I wanted to try touching it at least once. Bright blonde hair is quite rare, after all.”

“It is certainly not common, but it is not to that extent.”

“Is that so? How strange. I suppose blonde hair is quite common in the Empire.”

“Come to think of it, did Orihen have a relatively large number of people with black hair…….”

Idris muttered quietly as he dusted himself off and stood up. His head, which had been far below while he was sitting, rose upward in an instant. What, why is he so tall? Now that he stood after sitting, the perceived difference was immense. Tilting her head, she roughly estimated his height with her eyes. Under her steady stare, Idris’s eyes turned toward her.

“Miss Irene?”

A person who does not know when they might die. Musing over those words once more, Irene asked with a light laugh.

“Mr. Idris, about making traps and the fields…… what did you say you were going to do, anyway, those tasks. Are they urgent enough that they must be done right now?”

“No. I believe starting tomorrow or the day after would be fine.”

“I am glad. That is wonderful!”

Given Idris’s personality, she had known he would not be able to insist on doing it immediately. Irene smiled brightly and tilted her head.

“Then since we have time to spare, would you like to assist me with my hobby?”

When the time to spend together was already so insufficient, should she be dragged around by Idris? She felt that from now on, she must absolutely do the fun things she wanted to do together first. As she swung her leg, her toe kicked the dirt. The ground was slightly gouged.

What is the use of being considerate? After killing him, I would only regret, ‘Ah, I wasted too much time on things like farming or gathering!’

* * *

In the forest behind the cabin, Irene sat in one of the flower beds she had carefully tended. Her vibrant lips drew a pleasant curve. Her hands moved busily, weaving green stems and flowers together to create a flower crown.

Idris sat right beside her. When he selected a single flower and handed it over without much word, Irene accepted it with a smile in her eyes.

‘This one is a small pink one, so I will tuck it in the middle here…….’

“Miss Irene, are you truly alright with this?”

“With what?”

“The more I look at it, the more I feel I am only picking flowers that are of no help whatsoever to the harmony of the flower crown…….”

Wow. Irene marveled slightly. It was a rare moment of accurate self-objectivity.

For a while now, he had been handing over flowers that were pretty when looked at individually, but were awkward when added to a flower crown.

“I did think that you certainly have no discernment in this area, but it is not to a distressing degree, so please put your worries aside. I am fully capable of weaving it beautifully and colorfully.”

“Then, am I not hindering you rather than helping?”

“What does it matter? It is a task I started because I wanted to try weaving a flower crown with flowers you chose for me, Mr. Idris. Even if it is a bit less pretty, the process itself has meaning.”

She spat out those smooth words with a smile, as if it were of no consequence. Irene again accepted the flower he held out.

This time, it was yellow.

“And since you are providing enough of a great help just by sitting next to me, Mr. Idris, the flaws are offset, so it is fine.”

“Exactly which part is that?”

“Is there not always a person whose mere presence makes one happy?”

Irene laughed lightly and inserted the bright yellow flower between the red and white ones.

‘It is more fun because it clearly looks like we made it together.’

She had not made it for this purpose, but it was perfect as a medium to remember Idris by. She felt she should use a preservative or dry it for storage.

If it became difficult to think of him like Marina, she could just shove it in a corner and wait for time to pass. Though the wound of loss does not heal, it does become dull.

‘Though that will not happen. How could this person I stayed with for a short while be the same as Marina?’

The wound of loss never heals, but it does become dull.

Irene, who was weaving the stems while continuing her thoughts, suddenly noticed something strange and tilted her head. Idris’s hand, which had been mechanically proferring flowers, suddenly stilled. He was merely staring at her intently, or perhaps blankly, as if thinking about something.

“Mr. Idris?”

“……Ah, my apologies. I was lost in thought for a moment.”

Idris was overtly flustered and hurriedly brushed through the various flowers blooming before him. Within his quickly extended hand was a pink tulip.