Chapter 6 — Let’s Go, Woman
Nexiard devoured the food as if determined to bankrupt the household’s meager supplies.
Smoked venison that still carried the scent of fire, sugar-preserved apples, and even half-rotten cabbage vanished in the blink of an eye. It was as though he were flaunting the vitality of his life through an overwhelming appetite. The way he ate was so savage that simply watching him felt burdensome.
As expected, Mr. Kimber’s clothes were too small for Nexiard. Their heights were surprisingly similar, but the fabric across his chest, arms, and thighs stretched taut, looking as though it might tear if he moved even a little too vigorously.
“…Drink this too.”
From the dim storage room, I brought out some apple wine that had somehow survived. Alcohol was hardly appropriate for a patient, but I wanted him to taste at least a sip. The memory of a warm evening I had once shared with the Kimber couple had surfaced in my mind.
“I’ll get a cup.”
“……”
I was in the middle of selecting an intact glass when I heard the cork pop.
“Wait—!”
When I turned around, he was already kissing the mouth of the apple wine bottle. His Adam’s apple bobbed continuously as he drank. After emptying the strong liquor in one gulp, he smacked his lips.
“If your wounds get worse… don’t expect me to take responsibility.”
“Nexiard.”
Just before burying his nose in the bowl of potato porridge, he suddenly muttered his name.
“…?”
He jabbed his chest with his index finger and repeated,
“Nexiard.”
“Ah…! I’m Mirda.”
Unlike me—who knew everything about him from reading the original novel, even his name—Nexiard knew nothing about me.
I didn’t think about that part…
Should I tell him more about myself? What exactly should I say?
Just as my thoughts began to spiral, Nexiard looked up with wide, round eyes and asked,
“Is there more?”
“….”
“That.”
He pointed to the apple wine bottle rolling across the floor.
It looked as if the child of a demon had just crawled out of hell.
Nexiard’s memories were perfectly intact. His body, which had been dying in a cramped bed, now felt so healthy it was almost like a past life.
After swallowing everything he could put into his mouth—except the table legs—he said he intended to go to Tepen, the capital.
“Coincidentally, that’s where I’m headed too.”
“……”
“I hope we get along.”
Shamelessly, I volunteered to travel with him.
I thought he might refuse, but Nexiard unexpectedly extended his hand almost immediately. It was rough, with prominent knuckles.
Pretending to be cautious, I grasped it. He gave a short reply.
“Deal.”
The fox-fur scarf smelled faintly of dust that had settled in a wardrobe for years.
Mrs. Kimber had wrapped it around me earlier.
I shook the scarf once, then carefully tied it around Nexiard’s neck. Finally, I placed the gray-brown fur hat Mr. Kimber used when hunting with his fellow hunters onto Nexiard’s head.
Even the biting winter wind wouldn’t be able to touch a single hair inside his nose.
“Let’s go now.”
“Rejected.”
“…What?”
Nexiard removed the fur hat, shook it in the air the same way I had…
“I’m fine.”
Your ears will freeze off.
Muttering that, he pulled the hat down firmly over my head instead. It covered my eyebrows completely, making my vision cramped.
The surprising thing happened next.
Nexiard turned his back to me and knelt down.
“……”
“…I can walk.”
“You’re slow.”
I had no argument against that.
If there had been a horse, perhaps… but no animal remained in the cabin except the two of us.
So I obediently climbed onto his back.
From his broad back, the beat of his heart echoed like a steady rhythm.
Thump, thump.
“Departing.”
Nexiard spoke like an amusement-ride operator checking safety restraints before a ride. His sturdy arms supported my body as he pushed off the ground.
I closed my eyes and felt the wind.
Touch. Smell. Sound.
A bird that lived deep in the mountains barked like a dog. The smell of leaves rotting beneath thick snow and the stench of mud-soaked rope lashed against my cheeks like a whip.
Startled, I opened my eyes—only to shut them again as the scenery rushed past too quickly.
Thud, thud.
As he sprinted through the forest at full speed, Nexiard’s heartbeat gradually quickened.
His body grew hot, like holding burning charcoal against my chest. The muscles packed beneath his skin repeatedly contracted and released with explosive force.
Now I understood why he’d said my ears might fall off.
Damn it—it was freezing.
Clinging desperately to his sturdy back, I organized the things I needed to do next in my mind.
Little by little, the cold faded from my awareness.
* * *
A plump horse. A gaunt horse. A horse whose mane was the color of straw, like my hair.
With a single flick of their thick tails, the stench of the stable scattered briefly.
After silently glaring at the horses, Nexiard pointed to a spotted one.
It wasn’t the largest, but its eyes were clear and its snort strong, as if it could understand human speech.
Before he could say anything, I spoke.
“I’ll take this one.”
“You’ve got a good eye. Have you raised horses before?”
The stable keeper asked while I rubbed the horse’s nose bridge in greeting.
But Nexiard had already turned away and disappeared, as though his task was finished.
Flustered, I handed the stable keeper two silver coins.
“Can we come pick it up tomorrow morning?”
“Ah, yes. I won’t be here in the morning, but just tell the old fellow with the white hair who looks like he might drop dead any minute.”
Soon the stable keeper brought back a token.
A number had been carved into a small piece of wood shaped like a medal.
When I came around the corner of the building, Nexiard was standing under the eaves like a stone Buddha.
“Let’s just buy a fur hat and gloves, then head inside.”
“……”
Nexiard was the kind of man who communicated more through actions than words.
After scanning the town, he seemed to find what he was looking for and began walking with long strides. I hurried after him, sorting the small coins in my hand.
This was the same town Mrs. Kimber and I had last visited together.
Back then, it had felt lively. Now it was different.
People still bustled about as busily as ever, but there was a strange, uneasy atmosphere hanging in the air.
Nexiard weaved easily through rows of tightly packed tents. Perhaps no one wanted to accidentally bump into a man who exuded such an intimidating aura.
Quite literally, the path formed wherever he walked.
We stopped at a stall selling scarves and gloves knitted with thick thread.
Without hesitation, I picked up a pair of gloves the same color as Nexiard’s eyes. They felt soft, almost like angora.
“How about these?”
“……”
“Um, can we try them on?”
The merchant, who had been chatting with the stall next door, turned his head.
“For you, miss?”
“No, for this… man.”
“Then those won’t fit.”
The merchant plunged his arm into a pile of gloves and pulled out a plain black pair.
“These will fit.”
“Do you have any other colors?”
“What’s a man going to do wearing something colorful!”
Even as he said that, the merchant rummaged through his goods.
Just as he pulled out a pair the color of cherry tree bark, Nexiard suddenly snatched something.
“Good heavens!”
What he clutched rather desperately was a bright red scarf.
The merchant made a curious sound through his nose.
“Looks like spring has come early.”
I could guess what kind of assumption the merchant had made.
Embarrassed, my head lowered automatically.
It was surprising enough that Nexiard had shown any kind of preference at all, but…
“…You like that color? But what about the fox-fur scarf—oh.”
Nexiard silently shook his head and began wrapping the scarf around my neck.
The result was messy, but it was fluffy and warm. Somehow, it seemed to carry a faint scent of sweet oranges.
“Looks great on you! Take that one. It’s got lots of wool mixed in, so it’s really warm!”
We had only come to buy Nexiard’s gloves.
But while I hesitated awkwardly, Nexiard boldly slipped his hand inside my robe and took out my pitiful little coin pouch.
The merchant accepted the money while speaking with a strangely subtle expression.
“Well, of course. When you’re dating, what’s yours and mine doesn’t matter, right?”
“We’re not that kind of—”
“Oh? It’s that young lady!”
Before I could explain, the owner of the neighboring stall suddenly chimed in.
He examined me with sharp eyes, then clapped his hands in recognition.
“About ten days ago, wasn’t it? You came with Mrs. Kimber and bought a blanket.”
“Ah…”
Mrs. Kimber. The blanket.
The vague memory sharpened instantly.
“You didn’t come with her today?”
The shopkeeper looked around.
Should I tell him the truth?
That I would never see Mrs. Kimber again.
Because she…
“Oh? I’ve never seen this gentleman before. What’s your relationship?”
The questions piled up faster than I could answer.
I should have prepared some kind of plausible story on the way here.
Anxiously, I glanced up at Nexiard.
He was already staring directly at me.
That startled me…
He must be uncomfortable with this misunderstanding too.
“A distant relative—”
“My husband.”
Nexiard stepped forward decisively as he spoke.
His thick arm wrapped around my waist. As if urging agreement, he repeated firmly,
“My husband.”
“A husband… introduced by my distant relative.”
“Oh! You were married?! Then you’re not a young lady anymore.”
Scratching the back of his head, the merchant added with a slightly regretful tone,
“Figures! With a beauty like you, it’d be stranger if you didn’t belong to someone.”
“Th-thank you.”
“You two look like you’re in the honeymoon phase. Why not buy a nice blanket? Light as feathers, but you’ll heat right up under it. Though I suppose you two would heat up just standing together…”
Nexiard turned away without mercy, as if the rest wasn’t worth hearing.
Then he gave my back a light push and whispered,
“Let’s go, woman.”
