What Do You Want to Do?
The next day. Morning.
I met up with Lord Runken near Nympée Lake and decided to speak with the lake’s manager.
I kept my identity hidden and simply stated I was a national investigator. Although the ID was a makeshift one, it bore the finance minister’s signature, so I was able to earn the old man’s trust without issue.
He appeared to be in his sixties or seventies.
Saying, “It’s cramped, but—” the elderly man invited us into his small hut, which was likely also his office, and began to talk about recent changes.
“Unusual weather, you say?”
“Yes. I believe we’ve incurred the wrath of the spirits.”
Lord Runken and I sat side by side across from the old man, perched on roughly hewn stumps that served as chairs.
As we glanced at each other, the old man spoke with conviction, as if he were certain of what he was saying.
“Yes, that’s right! It couldn’t be anything else! The nobles may scoff and say spirits don’t exist, but they are mistaken. Spirits are real. And because they are real, they are angry!”
Perhaps carried away by emotion, he struck the table with a bang.
(Spirits are real... huh.)
That must be a common belief among the people of Nympée.
Memories of my past life, where visiting shrines was a given, resurfaced.
To the townspeople here, spirits must feel as close and sacred as gods.
As I was thinking this, Lord Runken asked how long the unusual weather—specifically, the lack of rain—had been occurring.
After some more conversation, we left the hut.
That was when the old man suddenly called out to me.
“Oh, young lady.”
“… Yes?”
I stopped, and the old man squinted at me.
And then it hit me—he was probably looking at my hair.
I resisted the urge to reach for the nape of my neck.
(I have nothing to be ashamed of. I don’t regret cutting my hair.)
Even so, from his point of view, a young woman cutting her hair short would be unthinkable.
I braced myself, wondering what he’d say, but then he flashed a gap-toothed grin.
“Is that the latest hairstyle in the capital?”
“Eh—”
“Looks good. It’s been hot here in Nympée lately. Just looking at it feels refreshing.”
“… Thank you very much.”
Surprised by his unexpected reaction, I nonetheless offered my thanks.
He nodded in satisfaction.
As we stepped outside, Kevin and Luke—my guards—appeared soundlessly and began walking a little behind us.
I tapped my chin thoughtfully, going over the information we’d just received from the manager.
“… About what was said earlier,”
Lord Runken suddenly spoke up.
I turned to him, wondering what he was referring to, and saw him glance at me briefly, as if deciding whether to speak.
“I also think it suits you.”
“… I beg your pardon, what are you referring to?”
When he said “earlier,” only spirits and sacred grounds came to mind.
A beat later, I realized—
(Could it be… my hair?)
No way.
Lord Runken complimenting me? That would take the heavens flipping upside down—
And just as I thought that, Lord Runken averted his gaze and gave a small nod.
“I’m talking about your hair. You’re not bound by conventional values. I think that’s very much like you. And I find it admirable.”
“──”
A bolt of lightning struck in my head.
Which was ironic, given that not only was it dry and cloudless, this whole area hadn’t seen rain in ages—not that that’s the point.
(What on earth is happening?)
Is this some kind of omen of an apocalypse?
Lord Runken complimenting me—was he feverish or something?
I blinked several times, stunned, then hastily composed myself.
Either way, I’d been complimented. I should accept it properly.
Though unsure what expression to wear, I gave a modest smile and replied,
“… Thank you.”
“When you return to the capital, what will you do?”
Once again, he surprised me with a personal question.
It was the first time he’d ever tried to step into my affairs like this.
Though a bit taken aback, I already had an answer ready.
“I’ll follow my father’s wishes.”
“So, in other words, remarry?”
Technically, the divorce paperwork hadn’t even been finalized yet, but it was all but certain.
I nodded.
Lord Runken fell silent, as if thinking it over.
“… Still, it may be difficult to remarry within the country. Your husband is His Majesty, after all. Anyone would fear how that could affect future relationships. You may be better off seeking someone abroad.”
(If that happens... I won’t be able to see Will and the others again...)
That thought struck me with quiet sorrow.
It was a good thing I hadn’t spoiled them too much back at the castle.
The more attached I became, the harder it would be to part.
Even as I accepted that with resignation—
“What do you want to do?”
His unexpected question left me breathless.
I turned to see Lord Runken looking at me quietly.
What do you think about this chapter?
