Episode 12

Today, I was reminded once again that life cannot be predicted.

Before going out, I never imagined I would come face to face with Railey.

The moment I saw that child, it felt as though a heavy stone wedged in my heart pressed down to crush me.

I’ll make sure you taste this pain exactly as I have—every last drop of it.

I pictured Railey’s smile and vowed it again and again.

Countess Holt was very reluctant to part, but we promised to meet again and left Pretty Rabbit.

I could not get entangled with Railey yet. Not until that child had gathered everything into her hands.

I exhaled slowly to steady my emotions.

Seeing me like that, Basha wore a face full of worry.

“My lady, if it’s too much, shall we return to the grand ducal estate?”

“N-no. It’s fine.”

I looked around. I saw people who were working hard for me. People inconveniencing themselves just to help one person—me.

If every outing is like this, many will suffer discomfort because of me. And besides, I hadn’t even achieved the purpose of today’s trip.

“Where’s a shop that does jewelry setting?”

“There’s a famous place nearby. But—”

I already knew what she was going to say, so I hurried on.

“Please take me there.”

She watched my face, then did as I asked.

Basha took the lead; I and the knights of House Calix followed in a clatter. I felt like a warrior marching off to war.

We arrived at a shop with a gemstone painted on the signboard.

Before Basha and I went in, Sir Derek O’Brian sent the knights inside under his command.

Everywhere I went, this was their ritual “for safety.” Going anywhere was becoming more and more burdensome.

After checking, Sir Derek returned to me.
“You may enter now, my lady.”

“Thank you for your efforts, Sir Derek.”

At that, he gave a slightly awkward look—perhaps all knights are like this.

Inside, I found the proprietor standing awkwardly wedged among Calix knights.

He approached, eyeing me without much warmth.
“What brings a highborn young lady out this far? Best to send your servants for such errands.”

He bent his back in something that could barely be called a bow—insolent to the point of rudeness.

Well, if someone blocked my business this way, I wouldn’t be pleased either.

“I’ve clearly inconvenienced you, shopkeeper. My apologies.”

He hadn’t expected me to apologize; the surprise on his face was obvious.

Given how nobles usually behaved, I could hardly blame him for being taken aback.

I went straight to the point.
“Who is the stone setter here?”

The owner—a hulking man, absurdly broad—pursed his lips.
“I am. Who else would it be? Doesn’t it look obvious?”

In truth, setters handle delicate work down to the tiniest detail; I was ashamed to have judged by appearances.

“I didn’t realize the shopkeeper was the setter. I’m sorry.”

Again, my quick apology made him scratch his cheek. He tossed his hair, then let out a big laugh.

“I suppose I’m a bit too muscular to look like I set stones. …No, I do. Ahem. So—tell me what you want done.”

Listen to him talk. If he dares boast this much, perhaps he really is confident in his skill.

I handed over the drawing I’d prepared before leaving the estate.

He raised one eyebrow as he studied it. His gaze flicked between me and the paper, back and forth.

Then he suddenly burst out laughing like a madman. He thrust his big face close to mine.

“What do you think you’re doing!”

Sir Derek’s blade flashed at the man’s neck. A normal person would have quailed—but this one was no ordinary fool.

“You’ve come to the right place! I’ll finally get to show what I can do. Wah-ha-ha!”

“Can you do it exactly as I say?”

“Heh-heh-heh!”

His mouth curled into a wicked grin. Oddly, it inspired confidence.

“How long will it take?”

He raised four fingers. Four months. But I had barely a month.

“Four days? Ah—maybe that’s too much to ask. Then four weeks?”

His brow scrunched up fiercely. Pride alone wouldn’t let him say “four months” after what I’d just proposed.

He cleared his throat like a man with a pebble stuck in it.

“With my skill, f-four weeks is possible, but I’m terribly busy, you see? N-no, I mean… better to say two months.”

Absolutely not. In that case, I had no reason to use him. I glanced at Basha. She drew out a heavy purse and held it out.

When he peeked inside, his small eyes went so wide I wondered if they might pop.

That smile will split his face in two. Any second now.

Money truly is king. What can’t be done can be done—with enough coin.

“How long was that again? Two months? It wouldn’t be so bad to test how sharp Sir Derek’s blade is today.”

Sir Derek proved quick on the uptake, playing along perfectly.

Shopkeeper, if you don’t want to lose your head, why not settle on four weeks while I’m asking nicely?

The man darted a glance from the purse to the chill at his neck. Unlike before, he flinched. Perhaps he’d finally remembered the word fear.

He declared his answer with grim resolve.

“F-four weeks it is!”

“A wise choice. Better to keep your head and take the money.”

He wiped the sweat beading on his forehead and nodded repeatedly. The blustering shopkeeper turned meek in an instant.

I looked up at him and smiled.
“I’ll trust your skill.”

“I’ll do my utmost.”

He sounded so confident that I felt reassured. If he did well, it would benefit him, too.

With that settled, my heart felt lighter.

As we stepped out of the jeweler’s, I noticed things I hadn’t seen before.

Street vendors spread mats and hawked their wares; there were many selling food as well.

What’s that?

A man walking hand-in-hand with his child stopped. The child had begged for a doll.

The large plush on display was ridiculously cute.

A giant rabbit doll—honestly!

What child could just walk past that?

Of course it was a merchant’s ploy, but children couldn’t resist. To be fair, neither could I.

When the child pleaded, the quick-witted owner began to coax them. In the end, the father picked up a bow.

If you planted an arrow dead center on the target board, the giant plush was yours.

There were consolation prizes for hitting the target at all, but that big rabbit required a perfect bullseye.

Perhaps because I was staring, Basha asked,
“Would you like to try, my lady?”

“C-can I?”

“Of course.”

Basha paid the proprietor, who handed over a small bow and arrows—the kind for children.

Only three shots, huh.

I’d never felt like this before—oddly excited.

I stretched my arm toward the target and drew the bowstring as hard as I could. Being small, it was harder than I’d imagined to pull it taut.

“Huh?”

The arrow dropped to the ground before it even reached the target.

Sighs rose from Basha and the knights around me. No one snickered, but my face flushed scarlet with embarrassment.

Maybe I should stop.

I turned my head—and caught the fluffy, adorably vacant expression of the rabbit plush.

Braving the shame, I drew again.

This time, the arrow barely kissed the edge of the target.

Suddenly, thunderous cheers and applause erupted around me. And once again, the blush was mine.

Maybe their encouragement was working, because the next shot felt good. Beside me, the child’s father loosed first.

He clearly knew his way around a bow; his stance looked solid. His arrow flew straight and struck home—just a hair off center.

“So close!”

The words slipped out of me. It must have been his third arrow; he set the bow down.

The proprietor picked up a doll next to the rabbit—a homely pig. Still, the curled little tail made it kind of cute.

The father handed it to the child, sheepish. Not what the child wanted, apparently—the little one walked away clutching the pig and crying.

Oh, dear.

I took up my final arrow, and my heart pounded. Please—hit the center!

I drew the string as taut as I could. The arrow leapt from the bow and cut the air with force—