Kasha drew in a long breath of forest air, savoring it after so long.
The capital city of Arkin, situated at the heart of the Aranias Empire, had four distinct seasons. The flora here was entirely unlike the forests of the north she had grown up knowing. She observed with genuine curiosity the broad leaves of the deciduous trees overhead, the trailing green vines, the small creatures whose bright eyes watched her from the undergrowth.
All the while, she was aware of a presence behind her. She did not turn around.
Leon Aranias.
It was plain that he still regarded her with wariness and suspicion.
And yet he stepped forward for me in front of those women.
The shade the brim of his hat cast over her face was pleasant. She found she liked it.
Then why is he following me now?
She had planned to hunt alone, precisely to avoid having to explain herself to him. But she found, now that he was following her, that she didn’t dislike it.
However bright the summer afternoon might be, the interior of the forest was dim, and wild animals were everywhere. It would be a lie to say she felt no apprehension at all. Perhaps she had been relieved — without acknowledging it to herself — that he had come. She was only now realizing, for the first time in her life, what it felt like to have someone watching over her back. How steady it made her feel.
Did other people grow up with this — a parent, a sibling — always close at hand, offering this quiet protection? Was that why they moved through the world with such ease, claiming things and demanding things as though it were the most natural thing imaginable?
I had to die once before I could be this shameless.
Rustle.
A faint sound came from the undergrowth across the narrow forest path she was following.
She stopped her horse without a sound and reached slowly for the leather case on her shoulder.
Rustle.
Then, above the tangle of grass and brush, a pair of ears appeared — twitching. Then the small, rounded top of a head: brown, with pale vertical stripes.
A deer.
Satisfied that the creature posed no threat, Kasha lowered her hand from the case.
At that moment she heard Leon shift behind her. She glanced back and saw him extending his arm in a long, smooth draw — the bowstring taut, his form impeccable, his arrow already glowing with the blue light of concentrated magical force. Without thinking, she cried out.
“Don’t!”
Crash.
The deer bolted through the undergrowth and was gone.
Leon lowered his bow and turned to her with a look of open disbelief.
“…What was the meaning of that?”
Kasha met his frown with an expression of equal firmness.
“We only need… one. I won’t allow needless killing.”
“One?”
“The largest, most dangerous gray bear in this forest. That’s what I’m here for.”
“You intend to hunt the man-eater? …With that?”
Leon narrowed his eyes.
He was looking at the device on her shoulder. Whatever it was, it was small and light enough that Kasha — who was not particularly broad through the shoulders — had been carrying it without apparent strain. Compared to his bow, or to any hunting instrument he had seen sold in the market, it appeared almost laughably unassuming.
“Have you ever actually… seen a bear?”
He asked it the way one might ask a reasonable question of an unreasonable person. Kasha responded with something closer to gentle reproof.
“Go ahead and doubt me. Just try not to look too surprised later.”
“…”
He had nothing to say to that. She left him to his silence and turned her horse forward again.
Perhaps entering the hunt and disliking the killing of animals was a kind of hypocrisy.
But it was also what she genuinely felt.
Too many lives have already been lost. Because of me.
Though it had been before the return — though everything had been undone — Kasha remembered. She still carried the memory of the tears and the grief of those who had lost someone because of her.
Kill her! Kill her! Kill her!
The burning arrows of rage aimed at her.
She had no wish to add even the smallest weight to the scale of innocent lives lost.
Behind her, after a brief pause, she heard Leon begin to move again — guiding his horse in her wake. His sense of justice would not permit him to leave her alone in a dangerous forest. That was simply who he was.
Kasha exhaled — something between resignation and quiet gratitude — and pressed forward.
She didn’t know how long they rode.
The path grew gradually steeper. She was rigid with concentration, and by the time she noticed it, every muscle in her body was aching. Her horse, evidently dissatisfied with her beginner’s grip, had been tossing its head and making its displeasure known since early on. Then, as though it had finally run out of patience, it abruptly launched itself down a steep slope in a series of jarring, bounding strides.
Leon’s hat flew from her head and was caught by the wind.
“Be careful!”
His shout reached her from somewhere behind.
Kasha hauled on the reins with everything she had and clamped her thighs to the saddle.
The horse refused to slow.
Oh no —!
She pressed herself flat against its back, clinging on with desperate force.
Then she felt the reins beginning to slide through her fingers.
“…!”
She clenched her jaw and fought to hold on.
And then — quick, precise hoofbeats came alongside her.
“Whoa, whoa.”
A voice, firm and calming, spoke to the animal.
Craning her head up from where she had pressed herself against the horse’s neck, she saw Leon — who had somehow already seized her horse’s reins — bringing the animal under control with both of his.
“Easy.”
He pulled on the reins of her panicking horse and simply overpowered it. Handling two horses simultaneously with that degree of ease was extraordinary.
As the horse began to slow, he performed what amounted to a small miracle — holding both sets of reins in one hand, he used the other to peel off his riding glove and the ring beneath it.
Then he reached across and laid that bare hand against the horse’s head. From his palm, a cascade of golden light poured out.
The effect was almost immediate. The horse stilled. The sweat dried from its coat. Its ragged breathing eased. Within moments it was calm — and then, with a kind of sheepish affection, it nuzzled its muzzle into Leon’s hand.
“Whoa, whoa.”
Leon watched the horse settle completely, then straightened.
Kasha pushed herself upright. Her heart was still pounding. Her hair had come completely undone, and her muscles were screaming at her.
“Th-thank you.”
She looked up at him with hollow eyes and managed the words. He made no attempt to hide his exasperation as he handed back her reins.
“Turn around and go back. This ravine is dangerous. If a bear actually appears, that horse will throw you and run.”
She heard him, and felt a thin thread of fear.
She should have practiced riding more before coming.
There simply hadn’t been time — not with how urgently she had been working to finish the device. But she had come this far, and going back now was simply not something she could do.
Kasha sighed, with the particular weariness of someone who has accepted something difficult.
Then a gentle shade fell over her damp, disheveled hair. She looked up. It was the brim of Leon’s hat.
How on earth did he manage to catch that too.
His reflexes were nothing short of extraordinary.
She tilted the brim up a little and found his amethyst eyes looking down at her.
“I’ll finish the hunt. If it must be a bear, I’ll catch one and bring it back. You — go and rest.”
Please. The word seemed to echo after the others, unspoken, like an afterimage.
But Kasha shook her head, slowly and stubbornly, her hair still damp. A flicker of frustration crossed his face.
“Why are you being this obstinate?”
She answered only inside herself.
First — to free you from Odette’s reach.
In the life before the return, Leon had been attacked by the gray bear at this hunting tournament. He had been injured, and in that unstable state, pressured by his father’s insistence, he had been maneuvered into accepting Odette’s betrothal.
Much had already changed because of Kasha’s arrival. But Odette would not relinquish Leon easily. Kasha intended to use today’s tournament to close that chapter once and for all.
And second — because I need to show them. That there is nothing of mine they can take.
Simon and whoever was directing him from the shadows would try to seize her device designs. If she continued to refuse, there was no telling what methods they might resort to.
Her plan was to reveal her capabilities openly to the world before the shadowy figure could act. Once her ability to craft such a device was public, openly stealing it from her would become far more difficult — or so she calculated.
And third — because that bear is something I must face myself.
She chewed the inside of her lip.
She was frightened of the creature. Of course she was. But that bear was the bitter fruit of a seed she herself had unknowingly planted.
Even if all of this looks like nothing but stubborn recklessness to you — that’s why I have to go.
She brushed the damp hair back from her forehead, composed herself, and bowed her head with measured courtesy.
“I’m sorry for the trouble I’m causing. But I have to go on. So please — don’t follow me anymore.”
“What?”
“Don’t follow me. Being with you during the opening ceremony was… more than enough to fulfill our agreement. There’s no need to accompany me somewhere no one is watching and make things awkward for both of us.”
“Awkward?”
He repeated the word as though he couldn’t quite believe she had said it.
“Yes. I know you mean to help — but it’s awkward.”
He could not possibly understand what she was truly trying to do here. Without being able to confess that she had lived and died and returned, she could not ask for his complete understanding. So even if it seemed ungrateful — even if it made her look it — this particular task needed to be done alone.
She pulled her scattered thoughts together and moved to urge her horse forward.
Then Leon, who had been silent, suddenly spoke.
“Why are you so desperate?”
“…Pardon?”
“That day in the library. And now. With a body this weak — putting yourself through things that make no sense — why? A bear. A man-eating bear. Are you not afraid of dying?”
He said it while looking directly at her.
Eyes more finely luminous than amethyst — that particular shade of violet. Kasha found herself moved by their beauty, even now, and answered honestly.
“I am.”
“…”
He studied her in silence, something arrested in his expression.
“I’m so afraid — that’s why I’m doing this.”
She whispered it and swallowed the sad smile that rose behind the words.
At least there’s one truth we can share.
It was perhaps the only truth between them — but it was real.
She was still sitting with that thought when a scream tore upward from the ravine below.
“Help! Somebody help!”
“A bear! A BEAR!”
Kasha’s eyes sharpened. Without hesitation, she seized the reins and drove her heels in.
“Go!”
Her horse, fully recovered, surged forward.
