Chapter 5
The hero’s heightened senses were useful in most situations, but they didn’t always feel like a blessing.
Ever since her senses had reached the level of prophecy, Enya had never once been injured.
She could read the intent of enemies who came to challenge her, the tension in their muscles, and the direction of an incoming strike.
She could read the direction of arrows in flight, the shifting winds that carried them, and the flow of magic.
At some point, Enya had begun gazing at a sky of a different color.
“Enyaril Benoa.”
“Got it.”
It wasn’t Enya who made active use of those senses, but the witch who traveled with her.
A born genius, she could convey her intentions perfectly just by calling Enya’s name.
Though she didn’t possess Enya’s senses, the clever witch used even those as if they were magic.
“Enya? What’s wrong?”
At a campsite in the desert, where there was nothing but stars, sand, and rocks, Enya sensed an ambush and got up.
If the witch had been on watch, she would already have guessed what Enya was doing.
But Taal, the hero’s oblivious friend, came over, completely misreading the situation.
“Are you cold? We’re crossing the desert tomorrow, so you need to get a good night’s sleep.”
Tarmin pulled out another blanket and draped it over Enya.
She couldn’t stop him from laying her back down.
Tarmin tossed more firewood onto the fire.
Soon enough, she’d kick it over and put it out.
But there was still time.
The layers of blankets dulled her senses.
The witch would get angry and call it ridiculously inefficient.
But since Taal was on watch, maybe she could close her eyes just a little longer.
Enya closed her eyes.
**
It felt like she’d slept soundly for the first time in ages.
When she opened her eyes, Tarmin was in front of her.
He was fast asleep, still holding her hand.
It seemed he’d spent the night sitting on the cold floor, barely managing to lean his upper body against the bed.
The bowl tossed on the floor and the clothes strewn across the bed told the story of last night’s disaster.
Enya screamed inwardly.
He’d found out. She’d never wanted him to find out.
The fit had started just when she’d gone to his house, and she’d ended up showing him that her body wasn’t in good shape.
Some of last night came back to her: trembling from the fever and the cold.
She remembered Tarmin hurrying to do something for her.
She remembered trembling, drenched in sweat, while he took care of her.
She felt like she’d done something terribly embarrassing.
She sighed and tried to free the hand Tarmin was holding.
As she carefully slipped her hand from his, she saw his palm, blistered and peeling from burns.
Startled, she called out to him.
“Taal! What’s wrong with your hand?”
Shouting, she grabbed his shoulder and shook him. Tarmin woke with a dazed expression.
Tarmin lifted his head unsteadily, then snapped to attention when he saw Enya was awake.
“Enya! You—you little brat! You said you were healthy, but you were lying? You’d better have a good explanation for this.”
“Forget about me. Do something about your hand first.”
“What do you mean, forget about you? I just saved you from the brink of death!”
Enya couldn’t shout while lying down, so she sat up.
The blanket that had been pulled up to her neck slipped away, and the cold morning air flowed over her naked body.
“Ah.”
She immediately pulled the blanket back up to her chin.
Feeling her ears grow hot, she watched Tarmin for a reaction.
Had he seen?
Tarmin was furious and focused only on what he wanted to say.
“Hey, why are you hiding so much? Are we even friends?”
“I’m sorry, but could you step outside for a moment?”
“I’m so betrayed I could die. I’ve been fooled by one of your pranks again.”
“Get out.”
“Hey, Enya. By the way—”
“Get out!”
As she pulled the blanket up, Enya thrust out her foot and caught Tarmin on the chin, sending him sprawling.
A little while after Tarmin was kicked out, Enya came out.
Instead of the long skirt she usually wore, she had on a sky-blue dress.
She usually wore long clothes that covered her from head to toe, but today her pure-white ankles showed above her slippers.
Enya carried the firestone that had been burning in the stove into the kitchen.
She held the stone barehanded, without burning herself or even showing any sign that it was hot.
Tarmin sat at the table and held out his arm.
He watched as Enya applied ointment to his burned hand.
After washing the wound thoroughly, she applied ointment, covered it with clean cloth, and bandaged it.
Watching the process quietly, he said,
“You’ve gotten a little violent lately, haven’t you?”
“I’m sorry I kicked you.”
Enya apologized sincerely.
Taal was too dense.
Most of the time, he didn’t understand unless she told him.
Back when Enya was strong, she’d let his obliviousness slide, but now she found herself snapping without meaning to.
Tarmin watched her apologize quietly, then asked again,
“So, are you going to tell me what kind of illness it is?”
Enya bit her lip slightly.
She didn’t want him to find out that she was ill.
She didn’t want to rely on him because she was sick.
Enya’s goal had been to remain on equal terms, without either of them burdening the other.
But Tarmin had taken care of her all night.
He’d burned his hand while hurrying to get a fire going.
There was no need to explain how important a bowman’s fingertips were.
Though she’d been careless, she couldn’t claim she was entirely blameless, either.
“I can’t tell you.”
She continued, speaking to Tarmin as he sighed.
“I’m never going to tell you about my illness. But you won’t be able to work as a hunter with that hand for a while, will you? I’ll help you until it heals.”
That was the answer she’d come up with.
Tarmin had already lost interest in learning about her illness. He leaned against the table, chin propped on his hand.
As Enya fidgeted, Tarmin asked in a bored tone,
“What are you going to help with? It’s not as if you’ll hunt for me.”
“Ugh... I can’t hunt, but I could help with meals. Or do laundry and clean.”
“I can eat with my left hand. And it’s not like I’ll die if I don’t clean for a few days.”
“Dust isn’t good for your health...”
It was painful trying to make a persuasive argument when she had nothing convincing to say.
Tarmin asked teasingly,
“Hmm. Miss Enya? Is there anything else? I don’t think you’ll be much help.”
Enya squeezed her eyes shut and shouted the first thing that came to mind.
“I’ll do anything I can with my body! But I still can’t tell you about the illness!”
It was a dangerous thing to say.
“So you can’t tell me what’s going on, but you’ll do anything else in exchange?”
“That’s right.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
A spark of life returned to Tarmin’s listless face.
“Oh?”
**
“Water.”
Enya lifted the glass and brought it to Tarmin’s lips.
“Now, now. Use both hands.”
Enya’s lips trembled with humiliation as she supported the cup with both hands.
After wetting his lips, Tarmin said, “Meatball,” so Enya found one on the table and brought it over on a fork.
Early morning. A window seat at the Werewolf Tavern.
Renzo, the old mercenary who’d come from Eranche, watched Enya and Tarmin with the expression of someone who’d found the rarest thing in the world.
“Is that some kind of northern courtship?”
“Huh? Oh, no.”
Tarmin held up his bandaged right hand with a smile.
“She wrecked my hand, so now she’s feeding me. Mm, mm. I’m being waited on while I eat.”
“No, I know what being waited on means. I meant the other thing.”
Renzo slowly shook his head.
Tarmin accepted the food Enya fed him and swallowed it.
Renzo pointed the end of his pipe toward Enya’s neck.
“Miss, isn’t that a dog collar around your neck?”
After swallowing everything, Tarmin said,
“That’s right.”
Enya was sitting in the tavern wearing the collar Tarmin had given her.
A little before they reached the Werewolf Tavern,
Enya had left the house when she saw the thing Tarmin had brought and asked,
“Why do you have a dog collar at home? You don’t even have a dog.”
“It belonged to my father.”
“Your father didn’t have a dog either, did he?”
“….”
Feeling his father’s reputation take a hit, Tarmin held out the dog collar to Enya.
“Why are you giving this to me?”
Enya asked, unable to understand.
“Put it on.”
Though his answer was short, it took Enya a long moment to understand.
You want me to wear it around my neck?
Enya, gone pale, cried out.
“W-what... Are you insane?”
“You said you’d do anything.”
“Even so, not this.”
“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to. But will you tell me what illness you have instead? I’d prefer that, too.”
Tarmin smiled confidently as he held the collar open for her.
That smile was so irritating.
Fine. She’d do it.
Enya thrust her neck forward with a defiant look, and Tarmin flinched in surprise.
Renzo listened to Tarmin’s explanation as he blew pipe smoke out the window.
“So you’re betting on how long she’ll put up with it?”
“Yes.”
“Would I be insulting Northerners if I called this their nasty streak?”
“Isn’t this better than dueling and spilling blood?”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Renzo chuckled and wondered how he could make the young man and woman realize what they were doing.
They had no idea how suggestive they looked.
But this was no ordinary quarrel between a man and a woman.
“Sigona? Could I have another glass of water? Ah, don’t bother bringing it over. I’ll get it myself.”
Enya glared at Tarmin as she stood up.
She kept glaring at him until she turned and headed toward the waitress.
A little cowed by her forcefulness, Tarmin cleared his throat, pretending nothing was wrong.
“Ahem.”
Maybe he’d gone too far.
But Tarmin had his grievances, too.
You could’ve just told me what was wrong with you.
At the bar, Enya took a tray with a glass of water on it.
Sigona, the waitress with long red hair and a mature figure, looked worriedly at the smaller Enya and said,
“Are you all right? Is Tarmin picking on you? Tell me if it’s too much.”
She must have looked exactly like a girl being bullied.
Enya gritted her teeth and smiled as if nothing was wrong.
“No, I’m fine, Sigona.”
She returned to her seat with the tray.
Maybe because she was wearing a plain dress, she looked like a waitress, and a few customers even called out to her.
“Here’s your water.”
She set the water down in front of Tarmin with a thud, then sat down.
She hadn’t even touched her own grilled herring while feeding him.
At last she picked up her fork to break off a piece, but he stopped her.
“Huh? I never told you to eat, did I?”
His unexpected cruelty left her mouth hanging open.
Enya trembled, tears welling in her eyes.
Tarmin was startled and quickly said,
“I-I was joking. Go ahead and eat.”
It was upsetting when someone played with your food.
Maybe Tarmin’s mind had gone a little strange from this embarrassing situation, too.
After teasing her this much, Enya still didn’t seem inclined to tell him.
He let out a quiet sigh so she wouldn’t hear.