Chapter 20
The two of them walked beneath the fading red sun.
Both of Enya’s cheeks were flushed red as the sunset.
A crown of daffodils rested on her head.
She looked at Tarmin’s profile as he walked a little ahead of her.
She gazed at his strong arms and shoulders, then ducked her head.
For some reason, she couldn’t look at him for long today.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but didn’t need to worry about stumbling.
Tarmin was holding her hand.
**
The two of them had gone to the festival that day.
By the time they reached the square, the parade had already begun.
The band was playing on a platform at one side of the square, and plenty of couples were still holding hands and making their way around the streets, even on the festival’s final day.
Tarmin watched the other couples move and tried to imitate them as he stepped forward, hoping to blend in.
But when no one followed, he turned around.
When Tarmin looked back, Enya was hesitating, unable to bring herself to join him.
Though she’d surely been to the festival before, she clutched her skirt and trembled like a girl who’d never been out in the world.
He’d declared that he would take her to the festival and have fun with her, but her fragile appearance made Tarmin come to his senses, belatedly.
He thought it might be less nerve-racking to be in the middle of some distant trial.
Judging by her expression, Enya seemed to be thinking something similar.
There was no prince here who seemed incapable of telling a lie, nor any witch who acted as if she knew everything and put everyone at ease.
There was the most important person of all, the hero—but she was like this.
She should have been used to everyone’s eyes on her. The situation was different, of course, but he couldn’t understand why she was so scared.
Come to think of it, she’d endured the humiliation of wearing a leash before, but had been terrified of going outside with it on.
Like she’d done with the leash, Enya looked at Tarmin with teary eyes, as though she’d done something wrong.
Tarmin took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp November air, then reached out.
He took Enya’s hand.
**
Tarmin held her hand all the way until the festival ended and they returned home.
He never let go as they clumsily joined the parade, creaking like old jointed dolls as they copied the other couples, or when they visited the bakeries that had made piles of sweets and cakes, hoping to make a killing from the festival.
He let go only briefly to accept their bags and pay.
He carried the festival purchases in one hand and stubbornly held Enya’s hand with the other.
Tarmin’s awkward dancing and haggling were just like him, but the way he held her hand without caring what anyone thought made him seem like someone else.
After a while, Enya stopped thinking about the other people’s eyes on them.
Instead, she felt Tarmin’s hand wrapped around hers.
Tarmin’s hand, roughened from handling traps and bows.
A large, firm man’s hand, unlike her own smaller one.
It felt as if the hand he held would leave his fingerprints on hers.
When she became aware of it again, her palm felt sweaty.
Noticing Enya fidgeting, Tarmin looked back at her as he walked ahead.
“Enya, are you tired?”
Since she was walking with her head bowed, she must have looked worn out.
“N-No!”
She’d wanted to answer casually, but her reply came out sounding excited, so she turned her head away.
She hoped her ears weren’t red.
Praying he hadn’t noticed, Enya let out a silent scream inside her chest.
‘I love this.’
It was a scream of pure delight.
A smile kept creeping across her face, leaving her looking a mess.
She couldn’t let him see her like this.
Taal seemed different from usual today.
The friend who had always trusted her and followed her lead.
The hero’s companion, who always went to bed later and got up earlier than the others.
She liked the usual, kind Taal, who was affectionate and considerate, too.
He’d always done as Enya said, but now he’d declared that he would do whatever he wanted at the festival.
He’d taken her hesitant hand and led her around all day.
She could have been angry at the way he treated her like an object, but, strangely, she didn’t feel like it.
Taal was forceful in a way he usually wasn’t.
She remembered how he’d plunged into the parade on a whim but hadn’t been able to hide how clumsy he was, and she started smiling again.
“Really? Then that’s good. Come by my house tonight.”
At those words, she jumped and looked at Tarmin.
Taal’s house? Later? Tonight?
Why?
“Your house!?”
“…Did you steal something? Why are you so surprised?”
“N-No.”
Tarmin gestured with his eyes toward the bags in his arms.
“I bought a lot of things because they were cheap for the festival, but most of them won’t keep long, right? We should eat them as soon as we can. I bought some for you, too.”
“Ah, y-yeah.”
“Should we start with the fresh meat and cake, and put away the things that’ll keep? I wonder if they’ll go together.”
She turned her head away from Tarmin as he rattled on about what he might cook.
She wanted to dig a hole and hide in it, but she couldn’t with her hand caught in his.
**
It was only a get-together to use up all the ingredients they’d bought.
That was what they’d said, but you never knew, did you?
A girl who’d just finished bathing, fresh and dewy, stood outside the hunter’s house.
Enya stood there hesitating for a long time, unable even to knock.
Her ruby-red eyes gleamed suspiciously as she examined herself from head to toe.
She searched for even the smallest flaw, then sighed at herself for wondering what she was doing.
She’d spent more than twice as long washing herself as usual, then rubbed the scented oil the witch had given her all over her body.
She’d taken out and put on a white silk dress she’d never worn before.
It was soft and comfortable, but far too thin to wear outside.
The witch had said she’d need it someday if she was going to live as a woman.
Only now did she think she might understand what the witch had meant.
**
“Come in.”
“…Yeah.”
Tarmin had opened the door without hesitation, but even after answering, Enya stayed by the entrance, fidgeting for a long time.
She was wearing something like thin pajamas.
She’d be cold standing outside dressed like that.
He held the door, intending to close it after her, but when she didn’t come in, he figured she’d follow on her own and went back to the kitchen.
“Have a seat.”
“Yeah.”
Only after he’d gone back to the kitchen did Enya enter the house.
She’d been in and out of here countless times, but now she was looking around as if it were her first visit.
The modest home had little beyond a wall hung with equipment and clothes, a cupboard with magazines and odds and ends, and a lit fireplace.
There was no grand display of taxidermy just because it was a hunter’s house.
“Here.”
Tarmin set the food he’d prepared on the table.
He’d brought out steak and chocolate cake from the kitchen.
It wasn’t some elaborate meal made by a chef; he’d simply grilled pork, added some roasted vegetables, and brought out a cake from the bakery.
Still, setting it out on separate plates before the fireplace and candlelight made the meal feel like something from a proper restaurant.
He planned to use the leftover meat from the steak in a stew, like before.
Next, he took a bottle of wine from the basket.
As he uncorked it and poured some into a glass, Enya still hadn’t touched the food.
“Enya, what’s wrong?”
“Ah. No, I’m fine. Thanks for the meal.”
As he watched Enya hurriedly pick up her fork and knife, Tarmin took hold of his glass.
For a while, only the quiet sounds of eating filled the room.
Tarmin swallowing his wine, Enya chewing her food and gulping it down.
This was only the second meal he’d shared with Enya, but it deserved a passing grade.
They’d bought the wine after hearing it went well with cake, and the pairing was better than he’d expected.
Besides, he could use a little alcohol.
Thinking they might come back to this sort of meal often, festival or not, he looked at Enya.
Hadn’t it been a satisfying day?
As the meal was nearly over, he borrowed a little courage from the wine and spoke to Enya.
“Enya.”
“Eek! U-Um, why?”
He’d only spoken to her normally, but Enya jumped as if startled.
Her reactions had been unusually sensitive today.
Whenever he said anything, she jumped and looked away.
Had she not enjoyed herself?
If so, all his efforts today would have been for nothing.
He asked, worried.
“Enya, I did drag you all over the place today, but… how was the festival? Did you have fun?”
Enya put down her fork and wiped her mouth.
She drank some water and rinsed her mouth.
He hadn’t meant to stop her from eating, but Enya seemed to be composing herself to give a proper answer.
She took a breath, then said,
“Yeah. It wasn’t bad—no, I had fun. Definitely.”
Like an ordinary couple, they’d paraded around and worn flower crowns.
If they put their minds to it, the two of them could do that just fine.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s good.”
He let out a sigh of relief.
Just as when he’d put the ring on her finger, he’d taken her out on a hunch that she might need the festival.
He’d felt reluctant to buy something useless like a flower crown, but if Enya had enjoyed it, that was enough.
“I’m glad you had fun, but come to think of it, you said you hated the festival, yet you seemed to enjoy yourself.”
“Eek, that’s…”
“I’m kidding.”
He saw Enya blush, smiled, and finished off the rest of his drink.
He got up and began gathering the plates and forks they’d used.
Watching him, Enya stood up.
“I’ll help, too.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s just a meal for two. There isn’t much to do.”
“But I don’t have anything to do in the meantime…”
Enya twisted from side to side as she spoke, and Tarmin answered with an easy smile.
“Why stay here? You can go.”
“…Huh?”
At his answer, Enya stopped moving.
“I finished putting away the other ingredients before you came. There’s nothing to do. You can go relax.”
“…No.”
“Oh, do you want me to pack you some cake? Just a second.”
Tarmin went into the kitchen and took out a fresh cake.
It was a white cream cake topped with strawberries.
He put it on a plate and came back into the living room, smiling as he said,
“Did you want some that badly? You should’ve said so.”
As he joked, Enya was smiling.
“Ahaha….”
That dry laugh stopped Tarmin in his tracks.
Enya’s laughter sounded broken, as if something in her had malfunctioned.
The fireplace was warming the room, but his skin felt cold.
“…Enya? Are you okay?”
“I’m such an idiot.”
“H-Huh?”
“All this preparation, just to get this piece of shit to like me. Ahaha.”
Enya gazed at Tarmin, giggling as if she’d lost her mind.
She was clutching a fresh bottle of wine, different from the one Tarmin had been drinking.
Judging by her wet lips, she seemed to have drunk straight from the bottle without even using a glass.
Tarmin was flustered, but tried desperately to think.
Did she mean me when she said that?
But hadn’t Enya been a lightweight?
Whatever was going on, he had to calm her down.
“Enya, whatever this preparation is, I don’t know, but put the bottle down first.”
“Shut up.”
“Yes?”
“Shut up and sit down.”
“Yes.”
He sat down.
He’d deliberately gone to the far end of the table to avoid whatever was happening, but Enya got up and came over.
Enya came right up to Tarmin and glared at him for a moment.
She couldn’t keep her balance through the alcohol.
“Hey, Enya. You’re seriously in danger right now.”
"You're lucky, huh?"
"Huh?"
Enya swayed, barely managed to turn around, then bent over.
“Your lower half works just fine, you bastard.”
"What does that mean—"
Enya climbed onto Tarmin’s lap.