Chapter 65 - Dovan - 3

Two more weeks passed.

Walking along a forest path with Bera, Renée reflected on everything that had happened.

Over those three weeks in total, each of the alliance’s five kingdoms had visited the smithy once, and Bera had turned them all away. The sword Dovan was making for him had only just passed the initial groundwork stage, and meanwhile, the season had changed.

Yes, winter had arrived.

When they had received the revelation and left the Holy Empire, autumn had still been in full swing. Now the world was sweeping them with icy winds.

Renée pulled her fur clothing tighter around herself and spoke to Bera.

“It’s gotten quite chilly.”

“It has. Ah, would you like to head back—”

“No! Not yet!”

Renée tightened her grip on his hand as she spoke, then belatedly cleared her throat. “Ahem! ... Let’s walk a little longer.”

They had had so little time alone lately that she wanted to linger together whenever they could.

Bera looked at her flushed face, then nodded.

“Of course. Please let me know when you wish to return.”

But I never want to go back.

Renée said it only to herself and lowered her head. It was difficult to put such blatant feelings into words.

All the while, the cold wind brushed across her face.

‘Winter...’

The change of season had brought another concern to mind—one that occupied all her thoughts at this time of year ever since she had joined the Holy Empire.

‘... Bera’s birthday.’

Winter meant that Bera’s birthday was now only a week away. She had caught up a little ahead of him, narrowing their age gap to three years, but the day that widened it to four again was approaching.

Thinking of it, Renée suddenly stuck out her lower lip.

Bera at twenty-two. She did not like that.

There was no other reason. She simply felt far too young beside Bera, who was becoming a fully mature adult.

‘I’m still eighteen...’

She still had three more seasons to wait before becoming an adult. Wasn’t Bera getting too far ahead of her? For a moment, the thought made her sulk for no good reason.

Then she shook off her growing discontent and turned to something else.

‘What should I give him this time...?’

His birthday present.

During her first year in the Holy Empire, she had only learned of his birthday on the day itself, so they had simply shared a meal. The second year, she had given him a robe; the third, shoes.

It was a shy girl’s way of making her feelings known, hoping he would think of her whenever he saw those things.

As always, Renée began considering practical gifts that Bera could keep with him at all times.

‘Hmm...’

Her deliberations continued throughout their walk along the leaf-strewn forest path.

* * *

“A present, you say?”

“Yes.”

At Dovan’s smithy, Renée sat across from him and continued, her face faintly flushed.

“Bera’s birthday is coming up. I’d like to give him something practical, so I was wondering if I could commission a dagger or a short sword.”

Even she thought it was the perfect gift.

Bera always kept weapons close at hand. Barring something extraordinary, wouldn’t he always carry it with him? That would be all the more true of a weapon made by Dovan.

After all, Bera had quite an appetite for fine arms. He had nothing but praise for Dovan’s skill, so he was sure to be pleased.

“Ah, of course, if it would be a burden, you can refuse—”

“Not at all. I’m not so shameless as to refuse a small favor like that. Besides, if it’s a gift for Sir Bera, I certainly want to help. When I’ve done nothing but impose on you, isn’t this a fine opportunity?”

He answered with a hearty chuckle. Renée’s face lit up, and she bowed her head.

“Thank you!”

“Think nothing of it.”

Watching her radiate happiness, Dovan continued in a slightly teasing tone.

“So, have you made any progress?”

Renée jolted.

She was not so oblivious that she failed to understand he meant her relationship with Bera.

‘He noticed...!’

Her face began turning scarlet. Flustered, she opened her mouth without finding anything to say.

“H-h-h-how did you know—”

“When you make it so obvious, wouldn’t it be stranger not to know?”

“Ugh...”

Renée covered her scarlet face with both hands and bowed her head even lower.

“... Is it that obvious?”

“Indeed. Enough to make me wonder how Sir Bera still hasn’t noticed.”

You and me both.

Renée squeezed her eyes shut and spoke with a groan.

“Please don’t tell Bera...”

She wanted him to understand her feelings, but not through someone else.

At her plea, Dovan nodded.

“... Well, best of luck.”

Dovan chuckled at her reaction, thinking of Bera, who had been with him until that morning.

‘I suspect he’d deny it even if I told him.’

He wanted to tell her not to worry, since the man transformed into something like those fanatics said to live somewhere or other whenever Renée came up in conversation. But Dovan was not so insensitive that he failed to realize how deeply those words would wound her.

‘... You’ve got quite a struggle ahead of you.’

Sympathy for Renée began welling up within him.

* * *

One week later, in the smithy’s backyard.

“Happy birthday, Bera.”

Bera stared blankly at the assortment of dishes laid out on the outdoor table and at Renée, sitting there wishing him a happy birthday.

“Ah...”

Right. Today was his birthday.

Only belatedly remembering, he gave a start, his fingertips trembling. Then he bowed his head and began to speak.

“I am honored by your gra—”

“Just thank me instead.”

“... Thank you.”

Bera felt awkward.

He had received birthday wishes every year since coming to the Holy Empire, making this the seventh time, but having someone celebrate the day he was born still felt unfamiliar.

In his previous life, he had never once paid attention to his birthday. Even the date itself was only one he had chosen by rough guesswork. Moreover, he still did not believe he was someone whose birth deserved celebrating. Whenever this day came around, he always felt awkward.

“Would you come here?” Renée asked.

Bera approached her, deliberately making his footsteps loud.

“Here’s your present.”

It was a neatly wrapped box about two and a half handspans long.

Bera knelt, accepting it with his head bowed.

“Your boundless gra—”

“Thank you.”

“... Thank you.”

After stopping him from using such excessively reverent language yet again, Renée let out a laugh mingled with a sigh.

“Would you open it? It’s a gift Dovan and I prepared together.”

“... Yes.”

Bera slowly unwrapped the present. Carefully removing the wrapping, he folded it and put it in his pocket, then opened the tightly shut lid.

“... A short sword.”

The weapon filled his vision, its pitch-black blade striking.

“Yes. I thought it might be useful in an emergency.”

Renée smiled as she spoke, and Dovan added,

“I tried to tailor it to your preferences as closely as possible, though I can’t say whether I succeeded. Happy birthday.”

Bera gazed at the short sword in a daze. Taking hold of it, he inspected it from several angles before speaking.

“... Thank you.”

Another expression of gratitude.

Standing right beside Renée, Aisha felt her shoulders lift with pride for no particular reason at the sight of Bera’s dazed expression.

She had not helped directly, but she had watched the short sword being made. Master had forged it and melted it down time and again, making and melting it repeatedly before finally completing it. Then Renée had wrapped it herself to finish the gift.

Aisha thought Bera ought to know how much work had gone into it. By now an ardent devotee of Renée, she wanted her to receive even more praise, and shouted excitedly,

“You should thank her more! Lady Renée said she’d wrap it herself—mmph! Mmph!”

“Oh, honestly!!! What could this child possibly be talking abouuut!!!”

Naturally, Renée stopped her, not wanting Bera to learn the embarrassing story behind the gift. A moment later, Norn and Hella’s laughter joined the commotion.

Standing in the midst of it all, Bera wore a blank expression at the unbearably awkward atmosphere, then looked at Renée.

His vision filled with the sight of her scarlet face as she clamped her hands firmly over Aisha’s mouth. Her efforts to hold the struggling girl were quite frantic. She seemed to be whispering something, but his dazed mind made it difficult to concentrate.

Yet amid it all, there was a response he could not help.

THUMP.

His heart beat heavily.

Bera reached inside his clothing and fingered the wrapping he had just tucked away. For some reason, he found himself preoccupied with it.

It was nothing special, merely a piece of cloth, yet it had taken on another meaning.

Renée had wrapped it for him despite her unseeing eyes.

Realizing that, he suddenly found himself regretting opening it at all.

A strange wistfulness.

Feeling that wistfulness, which was not altogether unpleasant, Bera let a small smile form on his lips.

It felt awkward. Somehow, it felt embarrassing, too.

That was what it was like for him to find new meaning in a birthday, in a gift celebrating the day he was born.

His fourth birthday celebrated this way.

On this day, Bera gave his birthday a new meaning: the one day each year when Renée prepared a gift just for him.

That alone brought him profound satisfaction. Her thoughtfulness could make even a worthless wretch like him into someone worth celebrating.

As the commotion continued, Norn spoke.

“Come and have something to eat. Hella worked quite hard on this.”

“You’re embarrassing me.”

Bera looked at Norn’s warm smile and Hella’s crooked grin as she scratched her cheek, then nodded.

“Thank you.”

Bera sat down at the table.

Renée, who had been wrestling with Aisha all this time, startled as she sensed him taking the seat beside her. Just as Dovan let out a hearty laugh at the sight, a shout came from the smithy’s entrance.

“Anyone there?”

Dovan’s face abruptly tightened into a scowl.

“They’ve been quiet for a while, and now they have to cause trouble today of all days. Would you wait here? I’ll be right back.”

“Let me accompany you. My presence should help.”

“Hmm...”

Bera stopped reaching for his utensils and rose.

“I’ll be back shortly,” he told Renée.

She nodded, looking worried.

“Please be sure to tell me if there’s any trouble, all right?”

“Yes.”

Bera bowed his head in answer, then headed for the front entrance with Dovan.

* * *

An army of bear beastfolk stood in formation at the front entrance.

‘The third kingdom.’

They were from the alliance’s third kingdom—the same army Bera had turned away first.

Looking over their ranks, Bera noticed that the particularly large general who had visited before was absent, and wondered why.

‘Has the person in charge changed?’

Perhaps his suspicion was correct.

As Bera and Dovan approached, the army parted to either side, and a figure in resplendent armor emerged from its midst.

He was an enormous, stern-looking middle-aged man with long black hair and rounded ears above his human ears.

“... The king,” Dovan murmured.

At those words, Bera frowned slightly and looked ahead.

‘The king himself?’

However important the imperial descendant might be, coming here in person seemed strange.

As that suspicion put Bera on his guard,

HUMMM.

The dagger inside his clothing began to hum.

... It was the very dagger he had pulled from Gilli’s heart.