Crossed Minds (5)
The sky was dark with clouds, and the wind swept across the mountains. Trees and brush bent and tangled in the gusts; birds flew low, and the cries of wild animals carried from the slopes.
Ashley stood by the window, looking out.
There was little to occupy her in the villa. Watching the mountain scenery was about the only amusement available.
“Ashley.”
The familiar voice came from behind.
The corners of her mouth almost lifted. She resisted the impulse and kept her back turned.
“Are you very angry?”
Theorad came to stand beside her, looking apologetic.
Ashley continued staring out at the wind.
It had been five days since the elf woke after the night of isolation. In all that time, Theorad had scarcely managed a private conversation with his fiancée.
The elf's mind remained unstable and required constant attention. Ashley had heard what happened and volunteered to help nurse her; a reliable servant chosen by Roylen also shared the work.
That left very little time for Theorad and Ashley to be together.
Even this meeting in the drawing room would be brief. A change of nursing shift was approaching, and Theorad would have to go back.
Ashley understood all of that.
Understanding did not make it any less lonely.
Her refusal to look his way was so determined that it might as well have been written across her face: I'm angry.
Theorad broke into a nervous sweat. At last he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Ah…!”
Ashley flinched. She hadn't expected the touch.
She did her best to keep a stern expression, but warmth rushed to her cheeks. It had been too long since he touched her so affectionately.
“Ashley,” he said softly, “please don't be angry with me.”
The blush reached her ears.
Every carefully constructed defense around her heart began crumbling.
“You're terrible. Truly…”
Her sigh stretched out. At last she turned toward him.
There was much less anger in her blue eyes, although she still puffed her cheeks in reproach.
“Sir Theorad, I'm not someone with nothing to do. I came here when there are important matters back in the county, including the succession.”
“I know.”
“And even if you've forgiven the elf, I haven't. What she did doesn't become harmless merely because we've stopped discussing it. I'm helping care for her because she saved your life, not because I've forgotten her wrongdoing.”
“I know that too. That's just the kindness I'd expect from the woman who'll be my wife.”
“And another thing… Wait. What?”
Ashley stopped.
Wife?
That was the word for the woman who married a man and shared his life.
She'd imagined hearing it countless times, but never like this—dropped into the middle of an argument as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Her fingers caught at her skirt. Her face heated until she felt as if steam might rise from her hair.
Theorad, apparently unaware of the effect, added:
“Well, we're already betrothed, aren't we?”
“Y-yes, but…”
You insensitive man.
Knowing something was true and hearing it aloud were entirely different experiences.
Ashley bit her lip, trying to recover.
Theorad smiled rather mischievously and leaned a little closer.
“Are you feeling less angry now?”
With his face so near, her thoughts scattered.
Was he trying to do this from the start?
It would be infuriating if he'd planned it. Yet the absurdity of her own reaction was enough to make her smile.
She sighed and nodded.
“…I'm not angry anymore.”
“I'm glad.”
Theorad straightened, looking perfectly composed.
Ashley opened her mouth, ready to reclaim a little dignity, then saw someone approaching along the corridor.
It was the woman assigned to help nurse the elf.
“Viscount Theorad.”
The servant stopped, bowed and raised her head.
“I've come because it's time to change shifts.”
“Of course. Thank you for your hard work. Has anything unusual happened?”
“No. She keeps asking for paper, but otherwise nothing much has changed.”
Paper?
Theorad wondered what the elf wanted with it, but there was no need to interrogate the servant. He would see for himself in a moment.
“All right. Go and get some rest.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
The woman departed.
Theorad turned back to Ashley.
“I have to go now. I'll come back, so please rest in the meantime.”
“Of course. Don't worry about me.”
He smiled and went toward the sickroom.
Once he had disappeared down the corridor, Ashley called a nearby attendant.
The servant approached and bowed.
“Is there something you need, my lady?”
“Yes. I have an errand for you.”
The attendant seemed to expect some ordinary request for refreshments or water.
What Ashley said instead was quite different.
“I'll pay you half a year's wages. Leave the villa and go into the dark streets of the capital. Search the alleys for a middle-aged man wearing a black muffler. Tell him I sent you; he'll give you a document. Bring that document back to me.”
“M-my lady, I…”
“You needn't feel pressured. If you don't want to do it, refuse. I can ask someone else.”
The attendant hesitated, then nodded. Half a year's pay for a single errand was an extraordinary offer.
“I-I'll leave at once.”
Knock, knock.
Theorad opened the sickroom door and stopped.
The elf sat upright on the bed in a white dress, her bangs tucked behind her ears, her hair neatly braided down her back. The woman who had just finished her shift must have helped her dress.
But the change in the elf's appearance wasn't what surprised him.
Paper cranes were scattered everywhere across the bedding.
How many…?
There must have been hundreds.
As he approached, the elf looked up from the crane she was folding.
Her face lit with an innocent smile.
“Theorad!”
He was becoming accustomed to that greeting.
He moved a few cranes aside, sat on the bed and smiled at her.
“Why are you folding so many of those?”
“They said if you fold enough, your wish will come true.”
“Who told you that?”
“Uncle Roylen.”
Theorad shook his head. It was a strange superstition to teach a patient.
“That's only a superstition. If folding paper cranes granted wishes, the world would have ten thousand emperors ruling it at once.”
“…What?”
“Folding them won't make a wish come true.”
“Ah…?”
The elf stared in shock. Her fingers shook around the paper.
She had evidently believed Roylen completely.
Theorad couldn't help laughing.
Her expression grew even more wounded.
“Why are you laughing? You're happy that I'm unhappy…?”
“No, no! Of course not.”
He smothered his laughter and cleared his throat.
“But what was the wish? You must have folded all these cranes for something.”
“Do you want to know?”
“I do. Tell me.”
She glanced around, then cupped her hands close to her mouth and whispered:
“It's a secret… I want to marry Theorad.”
He went still.
Marriage was not the sort of wish he'd expected.
“Ehehe…”
She covered her face, laughing shyly.
In her present condition she looked like someone confessing a crush for the first time.
Theorad finally relaxed. He decided it must be another innocent whim of her impaired mind, not a declaration he was supposed to take seriously.
“What a strange wish. Here, let me show you something more interesting than a paper crane.”
“More interesting?”
He took a spare sheet of paper and began folding.
Five minutes later, a small sailboat stood in his palm.
The elf's eyes shone.
“That's wonderful…!”
Seeing her pleased made him happy too.
She immediately took up another sheet and began trying to make her own boat. Her fingers worked earnestly, if clumsily, through each fold.
Theorad watched in silence.
Roylen had said she would usually recover within a week. That meant perhaps two days remained.
He spoke quietly, more to himself than to the elf.
“When your mind comes back, will all your memories return too? Even the pain of being betrayed?”
He smiled bitterly.
“I want you to be happy. But I don't know whether remembering everything will make that possible.”
She was absorbed in the paper and gave no sign of hearing him.