Chapter 9. The Brave Dog
After offering me strawberries, he presented a bouquet. The wildflowers were so fresh they looked as though they had just been picked. The stems, still damp with dew, seemed as if they might feel cold to the touch. Before I knew it, I was walking down the same road with Nexiard, my arms full of flowers.
“Circus so funny even gentlemen, ladies, old folks, and children will laugh their bellies open! Not something you see every day!”
A clown in a yellow cone-shaped hat stood balanced atop a large ball, handing out flyers.
“Come, come, today’s the last day! If you miss it now, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life! Step right in without hesitation! The Meteor Circus, touring the entire continent!”
My steps slowed on their own. A boy juggling beside the clown winked and shouted at the top of his lungs.
“Come see the mysterious animals! Watch rare and incredible tricks! And at the end, we even have a one-act play prepared! The Meteor Circus—something you’ll never see again!”
I had always been the type to enjoy cultural outings. I watched movies and musicals often, and if there was an exhibition I wanted to see, I would go alone without hesitation.
That was all before three years ago—before the accident that took my family.
Suddenly I wondered when the last time was that I had spent time just for myself. The hobby I had painfully managed to create—reading grim, miserable novels—had been little more than a desperate struggle to keep living.
But I can’t live like this forever.
My arms tightened around the bouquet.
I want it too. I want to live while enjoying ordinary pleasures. Not things done merely for survival, not the bare minimum to stay alive…
“Tickets. How much.”
The strong voice scattered my gloomy thoughts. Nexiard was opening his wallet as he asked the juggling boy.
“Two, please.”
“Nexiard?”
The tickets had a monkey in a skirt printed on them. As the boy tore one corner in a neat curve, he said,
“You can go right in!”
Nexiard handed me one of the tickets he received. I was too embarrassed to lift my head. Had it been that obvious that I wanted to see the circus? Hesitantly, I took the ticket.
“Th-thank you…”
“It’s repayment.”
“But I already repaid you.”
“It’s not enough.”
Excited children ran into the circus tent. Adults holding ice cream or balloons shouted, “Careful!” as they hurried after them.
Lifting the thick tent flap slightly, Nexiard murmured softly,
“Nothing I do is enough.”
His hand touched the small of my back. I yielded to the gentle push. Like a ship caught in a favorable wind, I was drawn inside the tent.
Of course, I hadn’t expected the atmosphere of a grand concert hall… but I also hadn’t expected to be so busy trying not to fall over that I wouldn’t even have time to watch the stage.
“A lion! A lion, Mom!”
“That’s a real sword? No way!”
“Eek! Don’t push!”
There was no order whatsoever. The audience was packed together like bean sprouts, shouting and screaming. In one corner, two drunken men started a fistfight. As people formed a ring around them, a makeshift arena appeared in an instant.
“Die! Die!”
“Aaand now—on the count of three, Leo will leap across the fiery pit of hell! Let’s shout together! One, two—!”
“Eeeek! Someone touched my butt!”
Firecrackers burst on the stage. A mangy lion panted as it leaped through a blazing ring of fire.
Success! Give a round of applause for our Leo!
At the same moment thunderous cheers erupted, colorful paper confetti rained down. The children went even more wild.
The more chaotic it became, the closer Nexiard stayed to me—almost like a human shield.
His body truly was like a wall: big and solid. Pretending to watch the trapeze performers swinging overhead, I stole glances at Nexiard’s profile. A glittering piece of confetti clung to his rounded cheekbone like a fish scale.
Surprisingly, he watched the show quite earnestly. His shoulders jerked, he clenched his fists in tension, and at one point he stared blankly with his mouth half open, following the arc of the trapeze artists with his head.
Cute.
The way his wide, round eyes blinked slowly made him look just like a child. I held onto his sleeve the entire time.
The final act, just as the clown had promised, was a one-act play.
It was fine at first, when a woman in a lavish dress covered with frills appeared. But the moment she secretly slipped into her father’s bedchamber and poured poison into his ear, I felt as though the blood drained from my body into the soles of my feet.
“Oh, my love, Newmondi! I offer you my father’s head. Please, love me in return!”
Poisoning her father for a man, cruelly torturing a loyal maid before casting her out, leaking military secrets—these were all crimes attributed to Mine Molière.
“This cannot be forgiven, Princess Mirone! I cannot accept your feelings!”
“Ah! If I cannot obtain your love, then I will have you even if I must kill you! So please, General Newmondi… die!”
Mirone lunged at him with a dagger coated in deadly poison.
The audience began to boo loudly.
“Th-that crazy bitch!”
“Tear that wicked woman to pieces!”
Trash, spit, and even stones flew onto the stage. The ringmaster waved his cane frantically.
“It’s only a play, everyone! Please calm down and watch until the end!”
The story rushed toward its climax. Newmondi succeeded in the revolution and imprisoned Mirone in an underground dungeon.
The moment I saw that scene, my chest tightened as if I were the one trapped there. My whole body grew damp with cold sweat, and nausea surged up as though I had swallowed a handful of sleeping pills.
“Ugh…”
“Mirda.”
Nexiard quickly supported me.
“Your complexion… bad.”
“Ha… hngh…”
I wanted to scream No! I wanted to tell the truth to everyone.
That the play wasn’t the whole story. That Mine hadn’t killed the king or abused the maid. That leaking the military secrets was true, but cunning Newmonte had used love as leverage and manipulated her—
My mouth opened and closed like a fish’s, but no voice came out.
My breathing grew ragged. My chest tightened, and my fingers and toes tingled.
“Ugh… haah… haa…”
“Breathe.”
“Huu…”
“Emergency situation detected. Initiating rescue protocol.”
Nexiard’s voice was flat and mechanical. I was sure he must find me pathetic.
And yet… he suddenly scooped me up in his arms.
“Airway secured. Inhale. Deeply.”
Nexiard pushed quickly through the crowd. The moment we stepped outside the tent, the open air rushed into my lungs.
“And exhale. Hoo.”
“Hoo… hoo…”
“Follow me. Inhale.”
I clung to him desperately, sucking in air. It smelled of darkness, dust, and ice.
“Exhale.”
“Hoo…”
“Repeat.”
“In… hoo…”
“You’re doing well.”
By the time my breathing finally returned to normal, we had somehow arrived back at the inn. Nexiard laid me carefully on the bed. The frame creaked beneath my weight.
“Pale complexion. Sweat. Mild fever.”
Muttering these observations, Nexiard removed his robe and reached for my top.
“N-no!”
Instinctively I yanked the blanket up over myself. My voice came out sharp and shrill. My hands flailed before timidly gripping the edge of the blanket. I tensed, worried he might tear the bedding apart with brute strength.
“I-I’m fine now.”
“You must lower your temperature.”
“If I wash up, I’ll feel bett—”
“Remove your clothes. That is the most efficient method.”
Nexiard pulled the blanket aside.
“O-okay! Wait—I’ll do it! I’ll do it myself!”
“…Yes.”
Strength seemed to return to me out of nowhere. I made Nexiard turn around and slowly removed my clothes. The sound of fabric brushing against my skin, the sound of swallowing—it all seemed unbearably loud, making me dizzy again.
“…I’d like to wash.”
“Yes.”
Nexiard stood up abruptly like a button-activated doll.
“I will prepare the bathwater.”
“N-no, you just need to step outside—”
But he moved far too quickly. My voice faded before it could even reach his back.
Wrapped in the blanket with only my underclothes clinging to my skin, I squirmed awkwardly until Nexiard returned, sleeves rolled up.
“The bathwater is ready.”
“…”
This makes me look like some noble lady having a maid attend her bath.
Even though the old inn’s windows rattled in the wind and the pillow and blankets were so worn they sagged lifelessly.
“Thank you.”
Nexiard stared down at me without blinking. For some reason his gaze felt strangely devoted. My cheeks grew warm and my mouth went dry.
“But… are you going to keep standing there like that?”
“Ah.”
After a small exclamation of realization, Nexiard strode over and lifted me up.
“That’s not what I meant…!”
Resistance was meaningless. He placed me straight into the tub of warm water. My thin underclothes were soaked instantly.
Nodding in satisfaction, he knelt beside the tub.
“I will assist.”
At that moment, I remembered something.
Nexiard had once been responsible for attending General Newmonte during his baths.
Newmonte had liked to prove his authority by humiliating others. One of those methods was bath attendance—deliberately forcing male subordinates to serve him.
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Nexiard knelt respectfully, waiting for my command.
My chest felt like it would split apart.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“It is my duty.”
“This isn’t Nexiard’s duty!”
When I raised my voice, Nexiard blinked and lifted his head in surprise. I bit my lower lip.
I didn’t want to—but I had to speak in a way he would understand.
“While I’m bathing, go rest outside.”
I gave the order directly.
Immediately, he obeyed. Nexiard lowered his eyes submissively and followed my words. The bathroom door closed quietly.
“…”
I flicked the surface of the water with my finger.
My head felt like it might explode.
