Chapter 8
“Sigona?”
Enya repeated the unfamiliar name that had just come from Tarmin’s mouth.
The Sky Garden Festival flower—to Sigona?
Enya thought of the waitress she saw every morning at the tavern.
A waitress taller than most men, with a full, firm figure.
Her long, voluminous red hair and sharp eyes that curved softly when she smiled were captivating.
With her considerate nature and manner of speaking, she was every bit the face of the tavern.
“Enya, how have you been feeling lately? Are you all right?”
Tarmin suddenly asked.
“I’m fine as long as I take my medicine.”
“That’s good. So, do you have plans for the festival?”
Though she didn’t know what she was hoping for, his question made her heart flutter a little.
She should have said she had plans even if she didn’t, but she answered honestly instead.
“I don’t have any plans. Why?”
Whether or not he knew how she felt, Tarmin cheerfully replied,
“Great! Could you help me with something?”
**
Quaalid’s streets began to buzz with excitement early in the morning.
Goods hauled back and forth until carriage wheels threatened to break were lined up along the stalls. Invited musicians took out all sorts of instruments and held performances throughout the streets, drawing crowds.
Some people were already getting drunk and collapsing, while couples strolled along to the music.
When the music ended, some couples confessed their feelings by presenting their partners with special flowers they’d found.
Couples whose confessions succeeded were met with applause and cheers from the townspeople, along with blessings for their future happiness. One young man whose confession failed was offered a drink amid awkward smiles as the other men competed to buy it for him.
The Sky Garden Festival had begun.
And yet.
The first day’s festival fervor didn’t reach Enya.
That morning, the Werewolf Tavern was quiet.
It wasn’t lunchtime yet, and anyone looking for a drink had no reason to turn down the festival, where they could enjoy the fresh air, in favor of staying inside the tavern.
So Enya wasn’t having a hard time because the tavern was crowded or she was swamped with orders.
Enya kept fussing with the headband pressing down on her hair.
She wondered how she’d ended up like this.
Was she really that bad at saying no to requests, like Tarmin had said?
“Enya! Take that order!”
“Y-yes!”
Lost in thought, she jumped at the call from the kitchen and hurried out to the middle of the dining room.
Enya wore the staff’s uniform dress with a lace-trimmed white apron, and a headband in her hair.
She was quite worried that her clothes had been getting more revealing lately.
As she ran, she irritably held down her billowing skirt and resolved to kick Taal one more time.
She was working as a waitress at the Werewolf Tavern.
In place of Sigona, who couldn’t work during the festival.
“Taal, you bastard.”
Even though it was festival time, Renzo sat by the tavern window as usual, watching the passersby. When he saw the unusual waitress, he couldn’t help but chuckle.
“You’re pretty brash for a tavern waitress.”
“Renzo? Why aren’t you out enjoying the festival?”
“A waitress is even kicking customers out?”
“If you’re not going to order anything, then leave. As you can see, I’m busy.”
The tavern was practically empty, but she insisted she was busy.
Outside, couples were walking hand in hand in something like a parade. Renzo watched them and replied,
“Cut an old man some slack. At my age, even standing around watching a parade is tiring. I’ll have a pork pie and a beer, then. That’ll do, won’t it?”
“Thank you for your order.”
“By the way, miss, what are you doing here? Working at a tavern instead of enjoying the festival?”
“If everyone had fun, the festival wouldn’t run, would it?”
“That’s true enough. But you don’t usually work here, do you?”
“I’m filling in for Sigona.”
“Hmm? Is she sick? This is the first time I’ve seen her take a day off.”
“I don’t know.”
Sigona hadn’t taken a single day off since Enya arrived.
It was also the first time Tarmin had disappeared without telling Enya anything.
“And what about that young hunter who’s always with you?”
“I don’t know.”
Renzo’s eyes crinkled as he played idly with his unlit pipe, rolling it between his fingers.
“Oh, miss. Don’t tell me you’ve been stood up?”
Enya glared up at him.
The old mercenary shrugged and raised both hands in surrender.
Frowning, she moved away from Renzo.
As she walked across the dining room, Enya pinpointed the source of her feelings.
She didn’t know.
That was the reason for all the irritation Enya felt.
She’d thought that no matter who Tarmin spent the festival with, she could smile and cheer him on as a friend.
When Lady Elenora, a noblewoman, came all the way to Tarmin’s house, she’d even offered advice, hoping her clueless friend would do well.
But after he saw the lady off, he sat Enya down at the tavern and then disappeared somewhere.
‘I’ll tell you later.’
It seemed Tarmin and Sigona shared some kind of secret.
A secret.
Was that secret as important as the one Enya was hiding?
No, perhaps her own troubles weren’t all that significant after all.
That she had actually been a hero. That somehow, she’d become a woman.
Did Tarmin even care?
Some people’s only wish was to see the sun rise tomorrow. Did the story of how she’d become a woman really matter to him?
Enya muttered under her breath.
You have secrets too.
He’d been upset that she wouldn’t share her secret with a friend, so he’d put a dog collar on her and subjected her to all kinds of humiliation. Now he was hiding a secret himself and had disappeared without explaining anything.
The cheers of the festival drifted in from far away, but Enya felt herself sinking deeper and deeper.
She reached the window that connected to the kitchen.
She spoke to the older man sitting on a chair in the kitchen.
“Manager. One pork pie.”
“Got it. But I’m not the manager. Call me Head Chef.”
“Really, Head Chef? You’re the only one of the staff who’s older.”
“You can’t make someone manager just because they’re the oldest. Sigona’s the manager. Didn’t you know?”
“I didn’t. I thought she was just a waitress. Isn’t Sigona a little young to be a manager?”
“She inherited the place after her father died.”
Since she’d come up, Enya decided to ask about her.
“Head Chef, do you know why the manager isn’t here today?”
“Who knows? I don’t. Maybe she’s out on a date?”
She asked the other employees while she worked, too, but no one knew exactly where Sigona had gone.
**
As time passed, the Head Chef finally gave Enya permission to go home.
For the four days of the festival, Enya was covering the lunch shift and the hours afterward in Sigona’s place.
She took off her headband, rolled up her apron, held it in one hand, and headed out the door.
Beyond the tavern’s back door was a yard, where Renzo and a few men were gathered.
The mercenary who’d come from the distant south cheerfully remarked when he saw Enya.
“So your friend Tarmin never showed up after all?”
Enya’s face darkened.
The yard led to the tavern’s storeroom, and a few chairs had been set out so the servants could take a break. The servants waiting for their shifts to start after lunch had gathered in small groups to watch Renzo.
As the tavern staff looked on, Renzo and several men swung wooden swords in the middle of the resting area.
Renzo was the tallest among them.
Though he was a little older, his large build and foreign clothes made him look every bit the swordsman, even with only a wooden sword in hand.
“Renzo, what are you doing here?”
“Like you said, it’s a rare festival. Why don’t you join us for a bit?”
Renzo tossed her a wooden sword, and Enya caught it.
She snatched the flying wooden sword and spun it halfway around in her hand. Several men applauded, impressed by her unexpectedly practiced movement.
Renzo looked surprised as well.
“You and Tarmin both always manage to surprise me. In Tarmin’s case, it’s his taste that surprises me.”
Renzo took another wooden sword from one of the men and approached her.
The contrast between the huge mercenary and the small girl holding a wooden sword made for quite a sight.
But Enya had no intention of sparring.
“Even a wooden sword can be dangerous if you get hit without any protection.”
Renzo burst into hearty laughter.
“Ha ha! Do you think I’d get hurt if you hit me with that wooden sword? It’ll be fine, so give it a swing. It’ll help you feel better.”
Enya stared at Renzo with gloomy eyes for a moment.
If she crossed swords with him here, she was sure she could astonish him so much his jaw would drop.
But startling an old mercenary or making him lose face would be nothing but taking out her frustration on him.
She regretted not pretending to fumble and drop the sword instead of catching it so stylishly.
Enya refused several times and walked away.
**
“Taal, are you home?”
As the sun began to set, Enya knocked on the hunter’s cabin.
She wanted him to explain what was going on, even if only now.
There was no answer from inside.
She slowly opened the door. The room was exactly as she’d left it after tidying up.
She sat down and waited, but he never came back, so she went home.
Even after sunset, she returned several times to knock on the door,
but Tarmin didn’t come home that day.