On the Night Road (8)

Monica pressed both hands to her blazing cheeks and told herself, Calm down, calm down.

Cyril had come to see Monica because he trusted her that much as a mage.

(I want to live up to Cyril-sama's trust.)

To do that, Monica needed to check the spell formula connecting Cyril, Ture, and Pike.

She also needed to figure out how Cyril could contract with the 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key Sophocles〉, but before that, there was something she couldn't stop wondering about.

"Um... Cyril-sama."

"What is it?"

Monica looked at Cyril's right hand, wrapped round and round in cloth.

"The 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key〉 said you couldn't make a triple contract, right?"

"Yes. It said that anyone contracted with a dragon and a spirit couldn't contract with an ancient magical artifact."

"...If there was no precedent, how could the 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key〉 state that so definitively?"

Cyril went perfectly still.

Fidgeting with her fingers, Monica added in a small voice,

"...I designed the contract formula with Ture to put as little strain on your body as possible, so there probably shouldn't be any problem. If necessary, I can write out the entire formula and explain how it works..."

Cyril's narrowed eyes opened as wide as they could. He tore away the cloth around his right hand, then pulled off his leather glove.

On the exposed middle finger of his pale hand gleamed a jet-black ring.

"...Did you deceive me, 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key Sophocles〉?"

At the low voice, just shy of fury, the 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key Sophocles〉 burst into raucous laughter, completely oblivious to the mood.

'Haw-haw-haw! You only just figured that out, you fooool! You couldn't even notice something that simple, and you thought you could become my master? What a joke!'

A vein finally bulged on Cyril's pale forehead. The Ice Prince had an exceptionally short fuse.

Whether it knew that or not, the 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key Sophocles〉 took the opportunity to provoke him.

'Exactly. Whether you're contracted with a dragon or a spirit, there's no problem with contracting with me! In other words, all that research you did was a complete waste of effort! Oh, how hilarious it was to watch you panic and fret, then hole up in the library!'

"...So you were deceiving me."

'I wasn't deceiving you. I was teasing you. Ah, what fun. You were a truly wonderful plaything.'

"...And what about the contract?"

'I refuse to contract with a greenhorn like you. Hmm, yes. If you put on a dress, look up at me, and coo, "Lord Sophocles, pleeease~," I might consider it. With hair that long, a woman's hair ornament would suit you wonderfully.'

All color and expression drained from Cyril's face.

Unable to hold back, Monica spoke up.

"Y-you shouldn't say things like that! Cyril-sama has been working so hard to contract with you..."

'Who's this little girl? So plain. No allure... Hmm, fifteen points.'

The next instant, there was a tremendous BANG! Cyril had slammed his own hand, ring and all, against the table.

'Y-you! What are you doing?! I'm an ancient magical artifact! I'm practically a national treasure, and you dare—'

"Don't rate women. You insolent thing."

Cyril spat the words in a low voice and glared at the shouting 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key Sophocles〉.

Not long ago, he would undoubtedly have filled the room with icy air. The 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key Sophocles〉 fell silent under the force of his glare.

Monica turned pale and stared at Cyril's right hand. He'd slammed it against the table with the ring still on it. There was no way it didn't hurt.

"C-Cyril-sama... Your finger must be, be hurting so much..."

"It's fine."

Cyril answered curtly with a grimace, straightened his posture, and bowed to Isaac.

"Your Highness, I'm terribly sorry for troubling you so late at night because of my hasty assumptions and lack of knowledge. I'll take my leave at once. Ture, Pike, we're going home."

As Cyril stood from his chair and started toward the door, the 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key Sophocles〉 began making a fuss.

'You fool! Claudia is here! Claudiaaaa! Now, put me on that beautiful finger of yours at once... Hey, stop! Don't put your glove back on! Don't hide me!'

Cyril roughly pulled his leather glove back onto his right hand. A hand came down over it.

"Cyril."

Isaac swiftly took the leather glove from Cyril's hand and pulled the ring off.

Cyril looked up at Isaac in confusion, and Isaac gave him a gentle smile.

"Have you found an inn yet?"

"N-no, not yet... I only just arrived in Southdoll..."

"Then stay at this house tonight. Monica, would you mind lending Cyril one of the spare guest rooms?"

"Of course!"

As Monica nodded repeatedly, Isaac took a small box from the cupboard, tossed the jet-black ring inside, and closed the lid.

The 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key Sophocles〉 was yelling, 'What do you think I am, you—' but Isaac didn't bat an eye as he wrapped the box tightly in cloth.

Now its shouting was no louder than the chirping of an insect.

Cyril lowered his brows and looked at Isaac.

"Um, Your Highness, I..."

"Cyril, haven't you looked in a mirror? You look awful."

When Isaac said it gently, Cyril hung his head as if ashamed of himself.

"I'm sorry for showing you such an unsightly sight..."

"If you feel that way, then be good and rest for now, will you? I've been telling you this for years. You push yourself too hard."

Isaac lightly pressed Cyril's shoulder, settling him into his chair, then placed the cloth-wrapped box on the table.

"You were worried it might get lost or stolen, so you couldn't take it off, right? Don't worry. This house is safer than anywhere else. After all, it's the home of the strongest witch... Isn't that right, Monica?"

Isaac gave Monica a meaningful look.

Monica snapped her head up and nodded repeatedly.

"Yes! This house is safe! So, um... please make yourself at home, Cyril-sama!"

At Isaac and Monica's words, Cyril still seemed hesitant.

But the two weasels were already rolling around on the sofa as if they owned the place.

"Pike, Pike, in a situation like this, do we say, 'Thank you for having us'?"

"I think so. Thank you for having us."

At Ture and Pike's words, Isaac chuckled and bowed before them as if greeting guests.

"What would my little guests like? I can serve stew right away, if that's all right."

"Stew. I know what that is. It's delicious. Right, Pike?"

"It's the kind Cyril likes."

"That's right. I'm glad."

With Ture looking up at him as if to say, Right?, Cyril nodded awkwardly. "Y-yeah."

Monica couldn't help looking up at Isaac in admiration.

(A-as expected of Aike...!)

The way he chided the stubborn, rigid Cyril reminded her of their days on the student council. It was a graceful performance Monica could never imitate.

When Monica gazed at him admiringly, Isaac gave her a wink.

Monica tried to wink back, hoping to convey, "You're amazing, Aike!" All she managed was an awkward squint with both eyes.

Isaac's shoulders shook with laughter at the sight of her, then he turned to Claudia.

"Madam, have you settled on an inn?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll escort you. I can't let you walk around alone at this hour."

Seeing Isaac smoothly attend to his guest and even offer to see her off, Cyril pushed up from his chair with a scrape.

"Your Highness, I can see Claudia off...!"

"No. You need to rest. I don't want you collapsing again."

"..."

Cyril pressed his lips together and fell silent. The exchange felt so nostalgic that Monica's expression softened as she raised a hand.

"Aike, I'll warm up the stew, okay?"

"Keep it on low heat. The bottom burns easily, so be careful."

"Yes!"

"You don't need to skim off the scum anymore, okay?"

"Y-yes...!"

Monica nodded, her face a little tense.

She had a prior offense: while helping Isaac skim the scum from a soup, she'd somehow ended up with no soup left at all.

＊　＊　＊

Until recently, the north wind had sent a chill down your neck when you walked along the road at night, but lately the weather had grown quite pleasant.

Carrying Claudia's travel bag, Isaac deliberately walked a little behind and to one side of her rather than right beside her, and asked,

"Does Neil know about what happened?"

"...He's away on a business trip."

"I see. So you want to settle everything before Neil gets back."

Claudia kept her eyes straight ahead, not looking back at Isaac as she walked ahead of him.

"...That's right. I don't want to bother Neil with such a ridiculous commotion."

She spat out the word "ridiculous" with all the feeling she could muster.

In truth, Isaac didn't consider the whole affair particularly serious either. After all, Marquis Hioone had entrusted the 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key Sophocles〉 to Cyril.

"Marquis Hioone trusts Cyril."

"...Father is too soft on that man."

"So are you. One way or another, you care about Cyril and Monica."

Claudia stopped. Then she turned to look at Isaac over her shoulder.

"...It's not like I like or dislike them."

"When you say 'I neither like nor dislike them,' you mean 'I rather like them.' At the very least, you don't think they're irrelevant."

When Claudia dealt with people she considered irrelevant, she would go silent as if they weren't even worth speaking to.

At Isaac's observation, Claudia raised the corners of her lips in a sly grin.

"...I rather dislike you."

I thought so, Isaac murmured to himself.

"You were merciless with me even before you knew who I was. Did I do something to you?"

"..."

Claudia remained silent for a while, then turned away, her long black hair swaying.

Her gloomy voice quietly dissolved into the night of the port town.

"...How could I trust someone who made a man so easy to brainwash his own close aide and vice president?"