Chapter 80 - The Empire - 4

Anyone who knew Bera and Renée would have been unable to keep from laughing at the sight of them now.

It really was that comical. There was something unmistakably awkward about the way they walked stiffly in step, their heads turned in opposite directions.

They had walked in that awkward fashion for a little over ten minutes after interlacing their fingers. Only when they reached the library did they quietly loosen their hands.

"... We have arrived."

"Yes..."

Of course, they did not let go entirely. Their interlaced hands merely shifted a little, until each was holding tightly to the other's index finger.

They did not return to resting one hand atop the other as before. Neither realized it, but they did not want to undo the closeness they had only just attained.

Amid that lingering awkwardness, Bera felt the delicate finger clasping his own and began to speak.

"... It is a three-story building, about the same size as Lady Mari's mansion. The outer walls are white stone, with large windows set at regular intervals."

"It's very big, then."

"Yes. It is managed directly by the imperial household, after all."

Their conversation as they walked was much the same as always, but the atmosphere was something neither had ever experienced.

"There is a large garden in front of the building. It is neatly laid out, with considerable care clearly devoted to the landscaping. All the plants have been tended and trimmed into uniform shapes, and benches and tables have been placed among them so people can read outdoors."

In that unfamiliar atmosphere, Renée nodded as she listened to Bera's soft, measured voice describing their surroundings.

"Then shall we read outside, too?"

"Would you not be cold? The wind is still a little chilly."

Bera had spoken out of concern for her. Yet, for some reason, his words felt unkind to Renée.

"... You promised you'd read to me."

There was a hint of complaint in her voice.

Her head still deeply bowed, as it had been all along, Renée felt Bera give a startled tremor and continued.

"If you read inside, we'd be disturbing the other people..."

So they should read outside, where he would not have to worry about that—where he could concentrate on her alone.

Bera agreed to her shy suggestion.

"... You are quite right."

There were plenty of objections he could have raised. Even so, that was his answer.

'People will stare at us outside.' 'She will catch a cold if we stay out too long.' 'The surrounding noise might drown out my voice.' None of those things seemed important.

Whatever Renée wanted was the right thing to do.

Bera, who had been unable to think straight all this time, barely managed that one thought before entering the library to borrow the books.

* * *

Borrowing the books did not take long. He wanted records concerning the ancient species. After narrowing those down to firsthand sightings and research journals, then selecting only the books that mentioned Orgus, he was left with just five volumes.

Bera carried those five books outside and sat in a secluded corner of the garden.

Renée spoke immediately afterward.

"Why are you looking into the ancient species?"

She had assumed he had come on business, and the subject of his research was rather unexpected.

Bera took a moment to choose his words before putting together an answer.

"... For some reason, we seem to encounter them quite often. I wished to research them beforehand, in case we should meet another."

"Oh..."

Renée immediately understood what he meant.

How could she not? There was Terdan, the Mountain-Pushing Giant they had met on their way to the Holy Empire, and Aedrin, the Deepest Root they had met in the Great Forest. They had already encountered two.

Most people could go their entire lives without seeing so much as a trace of an ancient species, and they had met two already.

Of course, for Bera, the total was three, counting Orgus, The Pilgrim Who Walks Through Time. But Renée knew nothing of that.

A sudden curiosity stirred in Renée at his explanation. She cleared her throat—"Ahem, ahem!"—and spoke again.

"Then..."

"... Yes."

It was time to read.

Renée nestled right beside Bera for no particular reason, resting the four unread books on her thighs as she waited for him to begin.

They were so close that Bera could feel her long hair tickling his hand as he began.

"... All who have met Orgus have said the same thing: he never acts without a purpose."

Suddenly, Bera found himself worrying about how his voice sounded.

It was something he had never considered in his life, never even wondered about. Yet now, for some reason, it concerned him.

Was it unpleasant to listen to? Or did he sound too self-important?

"... As the words 'walking through time' suggest, he is a man who moves ceaselessly between the past, the present, and the future."

Meanwhile, the divine energy he released with utmost discretion began forming a barrier around them.

It blurred awareness, muted sound, and turned approaching people away.

Bera himself believed he was erecting it to ward off danger...

But the true intention behind it was a little different. A feeling within him, one he did not recognize himself, was saying that he did not want this moment interrupted.

"... Thus, I would define him as follows: the old man who knows more secrets than anyone in the world, Orgus, the greatest of sages."

Renée heard the tremor in Bera's voice. And she hoped it came from the same reason as hers—that the time they were spending together, this strange atmosphere, filled him with such overwhelming emotion that he trembled.

'... I'm hot.'

The air was so cool, the wind so cold, yet she felt heat rising through her body.

And, though she felt terribly sorry toward Bera, she could not concentrate on the book.

His voice was simply so lovely to listen to. She loved that he was reading to her so much that her whole heart stirred with it.

Was she too indulgent, too shameless, to pay more attention to Bera than to the words she heard?

'... No.'

It was only to be expected. It was natural.

That was the nature of her love. The feelings she had cherished had always painted the same picture, and now that she was finally drawing closer to it, there could be nothing strange about feeling this way.

She had cherished these feelings for three and a half whole years.

That was how long it had taken just to interlace their fingers.

The emotions of that moment, so sweet and yet so embarrassing, left her feeling almost drunk.

Her fingertips kept twitching. She wanted to interlace her fingers with Bera's again.

... And she wanted to try other things, too.

To draw a comparison, it was the feeling of a pilgrim searching for water in an arid desert.

The emotions rising within her now resembled those of that pilgrim, who had wandered the desert endlessly and at last managed to drink a single mouthful of water.

In short, it was not enough.

Renée thought that what truly made a person ache was not an earnest wish, but an unsatisfied impulse. Nothing could be crueler.

A single mouthful could not moisten her throat after it had been dry for so long. Instead, it only intensified her thirst.

"... The secrets the old man keeps will likely remain unknown forever. For he shall be the most faithful servant, serving his parent's delusive dream."

His voice stirred her heart.

Fueled her thirst.

Renée had no patience left to endure any more.

She tilted her head. Her cheek came to rest on Bera's shoulder. Their arms pressed together, each feeling the other's touch.

He flinched.

Bera's body trembled, and his steady stream of words stopped.

"... Keep going."

Renée closed her eyes as she spoke.

There was a saying that the first time was the hardest.

It was true indeed. The little courage Renée had found when interlacing their fingers had become the foundation for an action this bold.

"... There were Locrion, the first dragon, and Aleisia, the Smallest World, yet neither would dare boast of their wisdom before Orgus."

Bera's voice resumed, adorning the space around them for a long time.

* * *

"... That is the end."

Bera spoke with his gaze still fixed on the closed book.

Not once since sitting down here had he looked at Renée.

No—he had been unable to. It was not because he was concentrating on the books, nor because she wore a wide-brimmed hat.

He simply felt it would be presumptuous to look at her, as though he were doing something he should not dare.

Renée answered him.

"... Yes."

That was all she said.

Nothing in the scene changed.

A bench in a secluded corner. Two people sat among the trees, the white-haired woman resting her head on the black-haired man's shoulder. The man's gaze was on his book, and the woman's eyes were closed.

The man spoke once more.

"... The sun is still up. Is there another book you would like me to read?"

He simply could not sit still. He felt he had to do something—perhaps reading would help distract him.

Ordinarily, Bera would have been venting his irritation at having read all five books without obtaining any information about Orgus.

He did not, because in the end, he too had been unable to concentrate on the books.

The little warmth against his right shoulder, the presence and weight that nevertheless felt so immense, left him no attention to spare for mere books.

A white wave appeared in Bera's field of vision, which had been fixed on the book all this time.

It was Renée's hair, stirred by the breeze.

The wind subsided, and a few strands settled onto his hand.

Bera's breath stopped.

The tickling sensation stirred an emotion he did not recognize.

He must not do anything.

Even as he thought that, his disordered mind was giving his body a different command.

His hand moved very carefully, gathering the hair that had settled upon it.

His thumb and index finger rubbed lightly together, twisting the strands.

Renée still had not answered.

His question about whether there was anything else she wished to read had long since dissolved into the air, leaving no trace.

Bera, now looking at his own hand rather than the book, realized this only after another long while. Only then did he speak.

"Saint—"

"A moment."

Renée interrupted him.

"... Let's stay like this for just a moment. Don't do anything."

Her tone was unmistakably a command.

"... Yes."

And no one obeyed such commands more faithfully than Bera.

It was a great blessing for both of them.

At the strange pounding she had never experienced before, at the heat rippling through her entire body, Renée stopped thinking. She entertained no thoughts at all, concentrating solely on the sensation.

It was not a shocking sensation that shook her whole body. Yet neither was it something she could casually brush aside.

If she had to choose a fitting description, it felt as though she were being consumed.

Every sense, every heartbeat, every thought was being consumed by this strange heat.

It was a very sweet trap.

Even as she instinctively understood that there would be no turning back if she fell any deeper, she had no desire to escape.

Suddenly, Renée set her stilled thoughts moving again and wished that time would stop.

That the world would halt and preserve this moment forever.

More unabashed feelings arose.

Logic and reason vanished, leaving only an unreasonable wish.

But Renée did not care.

She knew there was nothing wrong with it. She knew the name for these feelings, and so she simply enjoyed the moment.

It was a truly sweet and happy sensation.

An unreasonable wish no logic could explain.

And yet, it was a fragment that would remain forever pure in her heart.

... To give it a name, it was the thrill of first love.