If I Can't Have It, Neither Can You

On the way back to the arena.

I couldn't pull myself out of the swamp of my thoughts for a long while.

'So what was that walk even supposed to be?'

I mulled over Renoa's intentions on my own, but all I got back was an empty echo.

Renoa didn't say another word after that. And asking wouldn't have gotten me anything, either.

In the end, I got nothing out of it and reached the area near the arena.

We ran into a group coming from the opposite direction.

A girl in a gorgeous dress, followed by her attendants. When she spotted Renoa, her eyes went wide.

“Lady Edelhaide?”

“…Who?”

“Huh? What do you mean, who? You don't remember me?”

Bibi, who was at Renoa's side as she tried to remember, whispered in her ear.

“That's Lady Hazel of the Waldemar baronial house. She visited the mansion once before.”

Renoa nodded as if she had finally remembered.

Hazel's eyebrows twitched above her fan. It seemed her pride had taken quite a hit at being forgotten.

“By the way, what brings someone as highborn as you to such a gloomy place...? Could that be the rookie who's been making waves lately behind you?”

Hazel, having spotted me, widened her eyes.

A rookie?

So I even have a nickname like that.

Better than Blackie, I guess.

Renoa didn't answer Hazel's question. She only lowered her eyelids a little, as if she couldn't be bothered.

That indifferent reaction seemed to make Hazel even more interested, and she fluttered her fan.

“I'd heard rumors that you were sponsoring a slave, but I never imagined you'd be taking walks together. What a rare sight.”

“…….”

“If I offended you, I apologize. I didn't mean it that way. Since this is such a rare chance, let me introduce mine too. Garner?”

At Hazel's call, the muscular man standing beside her stepped forward.

He was huge, with scars covering his whole body. A massive greatsword hung on his back. He had the air of a veteran gladiator.

“This is Garner, the gladiator our Waldemar family sponsors. What do you think? He looks pretty useful, doesn't he?”

“Is that all you had to say?”

Renoa, who had kept silent all this time, finally said something. As if she had no interest in whatever you were muttering.

“…I've kept a precious person here too long.”

The lively mood around Hazel sank low. Her eyes were smiling, but she didn't look amused at all.

Is this what they call girls' talk or whatever?

This is hilarious.

I kind of want popcorn...

-Crunch.

“?”

Bibi was chewing on some snack she'd pulled out from somewhere.

When I stared at her, our eyes met.

Bibi looked back and forth between me and the snack in her hand, then fidgeted in her apron pocket and handed me one.

I didn't refuse.

I snatched it up and ate it right away.

Wow, when was the last time I had sugar?

So sweet. So sweet.

As Bibi and I crunched on snacks while watching, Hazel composed herself.

“Since we've met like this, if you don't mind, would you like to have a match?”

“A match?”

“My gladiator and the Young Lady's gladiator will face off to see which one is stronger. What do you think? It's a rather popular form of socializing in high society these days.”

What is this turn of events...? Why is this turning into a gladiator match from beginning to end?

I hate this.

“Ah, was that too shameless of me? Well, it's obvious who'll win without even having to look.”

Heh-heh—Hazel let a laugh slip out behind her fan. It was a blatant provocation.

A moment ago I'd been liking this as the climax, but this atmosphere was no longer welcome at all.

This ominous feeling.

If there's one thing I've learned since coming to this other world, it's that ominous premonitions are never wrong.

Renoa stayed silent.

Then, for just a moment—really just a moment.

She looked back at me.

Her unreadable gaze brushed past me, then turned back to Hazel.

“That's something you won't know until you try.”

She shot back without backing down.

There was a strange force in that voice that hadn't been there before.

“Huh?”

“That's what gladiator matches are. How can you know how it'll end before it's over? You don't seem to know much about gladiators, Lady Waldemar. How pitiful.”

Hazel frowned.

“…Is that so? Then you must be quite knowledgeable about gladiators, Young Lady. I thought you were just a sheltered lady, but I guess not.”

“Not really. I only got interested not long ago. I'm not really knowledgeable... no, never mind.”

Renoa, who had been speaking smoothly, trailed off at the end.

I could tell that was deliberate dodging.

'There are two ways to make someone angry. The first is to stop halfway through a sentence, and the second is...'

I could tell that was something the person herself would know too. Sure enough, Hazel's expression rapidly soured.

Her emotions surged, and she could no longer keep her expression in check.

“If you're that confident, then why don't you try? Let's see whose eye for gladiators is better.”

“Fine.”

“Huh?”

No, wait a second.

What about the person's consent?

I've only had this body for one day since I killed an ogre. My whole body aches, and I'm walking around groaning like an old man—now you're adding another matchup?

Renoa kept the conversation going smoothly, without considering my circumstances at all.

Hazel's eyes curved gracefully above her fan, as if she'd taken the bait.

“As expected of a young lady, you're fiery. My gladiator is probably looking forward to it too. Right, Garner?”

“Of course. Miss. Garner will win.”

Garner lifted his chin toward me. His eyes held clear killing intent.

I hadn't done anything, so why me...?

“Then I'll coordinate the schedule with the arena and get back to you. We'll take our leave first.”

Hazel gathered the hem of her dress and bid us farewell with an elegant gesture before walking away with her gladiator.

Only silence remained in the wake of the storm.

I cautiously opened my mouth, watching Renoa's back.

“Excuse me, Young Lady?”

“What.”

“What are you planning to do about that promise...?”

A gladiator backed by a noble family meant top-tier skill.

A bottom-rung gladiator like me wasn't someone he could beat. It was a mismatch.

If I lost, I wouldn't be safe either, and it would stain Renoa's reputation too.

'Why go out of your way to arrange such a risky match? Who's it for? You aren't even my master to begin with.'

I sent Renoa a look that carried that meaning.

“Because I'm bored. You're a slave who fights when I tell you to fight and dies when I tell you to die.”

“…….”

“I said it last time. If you live up to my expectations, I'll give you freedom.”

I had definitely been given that hint.

The Renoa I knew was a psychopath who viewed lives as if they were bugs, a villainess destined for ruin someday.

Even knowing that, I was doing my best to satisfy her for one reason: to win my freedom.

That was the only way I could escape this hellish place. So I could get away from Renoa.

“If you win this match, I'll pay your price and set you free.”

Whether she knew it or not, Renoa had presented me with an option I could never refuse.

It was coercion disguised as a deal, but at the same time, it was exactly what I wanted most.

“Heh, I'd win even if I took it easy.”

This is a sure thing.

***

-Clatter, clatter.

A carriage bearing the Edelhaide crest rolled off the road and onto an unpaved forest path.

Unlike the bustling streets, the ground was uneven.

Even so, the inside of the carriage was eerily quiet, as if all the vibrations from outside had been stripped away.

That was thanks to enchantment, the technique by which a mage imbues an object with a fragment of mystery.

If it is imbued into a wooden staff, it becomes a sorcerer's staff.

If it settles on keen steel, it becomes a magic sword.

If it seeps into an ordinary tool, it becomes a magical tool.

In other words, this carriage itself was a giant magical device that could move.

It was absurdly expensive, but for nobles it had long since become an indispensable magical tool. They would happily pour out bags of gold coins.

Within that luxurious space, Renoa propped her chin on her arm and stared out the window.

Thanks to the protection of the enchantment, her graceful posture didn't waver in the slightest.

She blankly watched the forest scenery drift past outside the window.

“Young Lady.”

Bibi, seated opposite her, broke the silence.

“What.”

“Why—”

“You mean why I accepted the proposal?”

Renoa cut her off before she could finish. Her green eyes, following the scenery outside, didn't so much as move.

“Yes. I don't know how much expectation you're placing on that boy, but he looks nowhere near strong enough to beat that gladiator.”

“I think so too.”

It wasn't foresight or intuition. Anyone could see it coming.

If you asked a hundred people, all hundred would be certain that Leon would lose.

“Then why...?”

“That hag told me not to go outside.”

Florencia's twisted face flashed through Renoa's mind.

She didn't take her threats seriously, but being dragged into troublesome matters was absolutely out of the question.

She didn't want to hear that shrill nagging again. And she didn't want to see her face, either.

“I wasn't interested in gladiator matches in the first place.”

Her first visit had been on a whim, anyway. She would never have set foot in the arena again.

Renoa hated noisy, distracting things more than anything else.

She had only made a passing whim of watching Leon's match. Killing a little time had been enough.

“If you've played with a toy, you should clean up after yourself.”

“You're not going to free him?”

“Why would I?”

There wasn't the slightest hint of playfulness in Renoa's voice. It was a completely honest answer.

She'd promised to set him free if he met her expectations, but Renoa had never once intended to let him go.

A cheeky boy who didn't want the patronage of a ducal house. A peculiar boy who longed for freedom more than wealth or honor.

Dangling a carrot called freedom and making him run all the way to the edge of the cliff was nothing more than an efficient way to motivate and wear him down.

“But if he loses to a noble's gladiator...”

“It doesn't matter.”

Even if defeat caused him to lose face, that would be Edelhaide's honor, not Renoa's.

Winning would be no different. After all, Renoa didn't have anything she could call honor.

Renoa said it all in a calm tone—

'...despite being a slave.'

Inside, she was stubbornly ignoring the emotions surging up from the deepest part of her heart.

Renoa gently touched her cheek with her hand. The remnants of violence, hidden beneath a thick layer of powder, had already gone cold.

That boy rolling in the mud in shackles and she herself were fundamentally in the same situation, differing only in status.

One was bound to an iron collar, while the other was simply being strangled by the name Edelhaide.

Both were slaves who couldn't take even a single step of their own will. They had been born to such a fate.

And yet.

'Why are you the only one with eyes like that?'

Even though he was destined to be used up as nothing more than a fleeting amusement, Leon's eyes were fixed on a place Renoa couldn't imagine.

What Renoa had already lost from the moment she was born, the boy treasured as though he'd be able to hold it in his hands tomorrow.

He didn't bow to reality, and he struggled desperately, not caring about the gazes around him.

The unfair fact that you, chained up, looked far freer than I did outside the prison.

Those arrogant eyes that never bent, even while teetering on the edge of death.

Renoa hated it unbearably, and at the same time found herself craving it madly.

'I want to break it.'

She wanted to twist the hope filling those eyes until it turned the same ash gray as her own.

So that you too would give up freedom like I did, despair at fate, and accept reality.

It was a desire to destroy deeper than jealousy and darker than murderous intent.

“Heh.”

Before she knew it, the smile blooming at Renoa's lips was as beautiful and cruel as a thorned rose.