#20
Bavery caught Kur’s eye for a moment, then pointed him toward the mercenary guild’s hideout.
“I feel good doing good deeds. I might do this more often.”
Watching the man walk off toward the mercenary hideout, Babery felt a swell of pride.
Kur snorted at Babery’s claim that she’d done a good deed.
“You only did it to make that guy uncomfortable.”
“That is a good deed.”
She insisted confidently. In her view, taking revenge for Sharon made it a righteous act. Honestly, the scale of revenge she aimed for seemed almost quaint by her standards — Babery worried it might be too small.
“I’d rather deal with him myself than send some bounty hunter.”
Babery had also been humiliated by Medo. She’d stayed quiet because Sharon seemed more badly shaken by it than she was.
“Want to go now?”
Wouldn’t it be easier right after the bounty hunter already attacked him once? Babery paused to think, then shook her head.
She’d actually asked Sharon several times before: if Sharon wanted, Babery would guard him and this time she’d make sure he got what was coming. Each time, Sharon had thanked her but refused.
“I don’t get why you refuse revenge.”
Is Sharon planning to do it himself?
Babery tilted her head in confusion, and Kur let out a small snort. Hearing him scoff, Babery’s brow furrowed.
“Do you know why Sharon refuses?”
Kur glanced at her as if surprised she didn’t know.
“I don’t.”
Babery shrugged in bewilderment; Kur sighed.
“Of course she’ll hate the one who hurt her. She’ll hate him if he’s living well.”
“And?”
“But she doesn’t want to hear that he’s dead or that something terrible happened to him.”
“Why?”
“That means she still has lingering feelings. You wouldn’t understand — you lack that kind of subtlety.”
Kur openly dismissed Babery.
She was speechless. Sure, she didn’t quite understand, but it felt wrong hearing that from a dragon with such certainty.
“How would you even know that?” Babery snapped.
“Because I’ve been in that situation.”
“There are people like that among dragons? Wow. Nerve.” Babery marveled. Kur, unwilling to respond, kept his mouth shut and started walking again.
“…?”
Following him, Babery suddenly felt a sting in her throat and froze. It felt like all the strength drained from her body.
“Do you not know who that is, or are you pretending not to?” Kur, who’d been walking far ahead, turned and asked. He couldn’t see Babery where he expected to — she had collapsed on the path well behind him.
“What are you doing, Babery? Has His Majesty decided he doesn’t want to walk on his own two feet anymore?” Kur asked incredulously. Babery wanted to answer, but her tongue had locked; she couldn’t make a sound. Her body was limp.
“Your Majesty.”
Kur called again, and something hit his throat and bounced off to the ground — a dart smeared with paralytic poison.
“Tch.”
Someone behind a cart by the roadside clicked their tongue. It was the man who’d earlier shown Babery the way to the hideout.
Only after collapsing did Babery realize something important: Medo wasn’t the only one with a wanted poster up.
Three hundred thousand gold and one hundred thousand gold. Who in their right mind would pick the latter?
Babery blinked in acknowledgment. Then she heard a crunching sound.
The sound belonged to Kur, looming over her with a terrifying expression. His whole body twitched as if about to transform into a dragon.
This is bad.
Babery’s mind filled with images of Kur ripping out her heart or crushing her. I was an idiot.
She’d let her guard down completely. She hadn’t intended to lower her defenses, but somehow she’d begun treating him casually, like a friend.
She couldn’t just lie there, so Babery tried to clench her fingers and move. Even a twitch was impossible.
Damn!
She shut her eyes. If she couldn’t flee or fight back, she’d at least feign death.
“Babery.”
Kur approached, calling her name. Babery held her breath, listening to his footsteps, her heart pounding from anxiety.
“Is she dead?”
Yes. Dead. So don’t bother finishing the job.
Babery silently prayed he wouldn’t hear her heart hammering and that he’d remain fooled.
“Why aren’t you breathing?”
Kur’s hand touched Babery’s throat — it was ice-cold. She nearly gasped, but managed to hold it in.
“The pulse is beating, why isn’t she breathing?”
Kur tapped her chest with his fist, tentatively. Then he checked again whether she was breathing.
“Babery. Breathe. Babery.”
His punches grew firmer. It hurt, and she couldn’t hold her breath forever; Babery finally let out a breath.
“Puhah!”
Kur let out a relieved expression and pulled her limp body into his arms.
“Sorry.”
Babery slowly opened the eyes she’d closed. Her hearing was so dulled she doubted she’d heard him apologize; he wouldn’t speak such words if things were normal.
As her vision cleared, she saw a man’s hand lying in a pool of blood behind the cart.
“That was my fault. I let my guard down,” Kur said. With her head resting against his chest, she couldn’t see his face, but his voice carried a mix of relief and complicated emotion.
It didn’t sound like he wanted revenge, nor like he took pleasure in her suffering.
Huh. Was it true that he didn’t want revenge?
Relaxing slightly, Babery’s finger twitched for the first time.
A week after Sharon parted ways with Medo.
Sharon suggested something to the bored-looking Babery.
“There’s an orchard short on hands; we’re going to help. Would Your Majesty like to come along?”
Sharon added that they could be paid in apples and could eat as many as they liked while picking.
“Why apples all of a sudden?”
“I thought Your Majesty might find it interesting,” Sharon replied.
A strange sense of déjà vu struck Babery. Then she realized why.
Sharon’s behavior reminded her of Yuchae-rin. She’d once, half-asleep, reserved a weekend farm because a younger sibling wanted to grow potatoes.
“Don’t you dislike apples?”
Babery stared at Sharon. Sharon hadn’t asked Medo for bodyguards any more; the promised protection in exchange for serving them was effectively null. Yet she still insisted on calling Babery “Your Majesty” and offered herself as a retainer.
“There’s no reason to refuse if you can eat as many as you want.”
When Babery accepted, Sharon smiled brightly and went to prepare.
“If I’m going, you have to go too.”
Babery turned to Kur. He looked displeased.
“Why? What for?”
“How long will you stay in Rondar?”
Babery had expected him to refuse to go apple-picking. So that’s what he meant?
She shrugged.
“There’s no reason to keep helping that mercenary; you can leave Rondar if you want.”
Babery agreed.
Of course, there was also the idea of restoring the ballista in case Kur betrayed them, but since she’d decided to trust Kur, it wasn’t absolutely necessary.
So leaving Rondar immediately wouldn’t be a big problem. Only one thing nagged at her.
“If you tell them to follow, the pie-maker will follow,” Kur said before she could speak. Babery didn’t like the tone.
Why does he always act like he knows everything about me?
If he were wrong, she’d at least mock him. But he was usually right, and that left her speechless.
On the other hand, she had no idea what he was thinking.
Why Sharon refused revenge? She had no clue.
“What if Sharon doesn’t follow when you tell her to?”
Babery pouted. Forget Medo — Rondar still had a functioning shop. Would Sharon really give that up and become a drifter?
Babery shook her head. If Sharon had been opposed, she never would have left.
“She’ll just abandon it and leave.”
“Cold-hearted.”
Babery called Kur heartless, and Kur shrugged without expression.
“You eat pie like that?” Kur asked.
“Then leave Sharon here for a while and come back later to take over Rondar.”
Of all his suggestions, that last one seemed the least bad. Babery reluctantly nodded.
When would she bring it up? Maybe while picking apples at the orchard.
As she left the shop pondering this, she bumped into a man lingering at the doorway. It was Medo, his face half gone from the week apart.
“Sharon, I have something to say.”
He ran to Sharon and spoke with desperation.
“I have nothing to say.”
Sharon tried to pass him by, but Medo blocked her path and begged.
“Please. Just give me one chance to explain.”
“I’m busy.”
“Then I’ll wait. Until you return.”
“Fine, do that.”
Sharon passed him coldly.
Babery had been about to tell Sharon her plan to leave Rondar, but Medo made Sharon uneasy and she couldn’t bring herself to speak.
“I like Your Majesty. You aren’t always perfect, but still.”
They’d walked about ten minutes after leaving the castle gates toward the orchard. Sharon, who had been walking stiffly with a stern face, suddenly spoke. Babery blinked, unsure how to respond.
“You said you didn’t care if anyone precious remained, that you wouldn’t mind everyone becoming a dragon’s prey, remember?”
“Mm.”
The tone sounded almost angry and Babery felt guilty for no reason, trailing off.
“And now?”
Babery couldn’t answer right away to the sudden barrage of questions. Sharon asked again.
“Would you be fine if I were eaten by a dragon?”
If Kur were trying to eat Sharon, what would she do?
Babery thought for a moment and reached a conclusion.
“The dragon wouldn’t try to eat you. You’re too good at making pies.”
“You flatter me.”
Sharon let out a small laugh. Babery thought the rapid-fire questioning was over, but Sharon turned serious again.
“Even if not a dragon—if Glock or Rob tried to kill me?”
Sharon looked straight into Babery’s eyes as she asked.
