“Here we are. This is my office.”
After talking for a while in front of the paintings, climbing the spiraling stairs once more, and walking a long way down the long corridor, they finally reached their destination.
Perhaps because she had just glimpsed Eseldor’s history, even the manor’s stairs did not look ordinary. Come to think of it, all the staircases in Langfield Manor were spiral in form and turned clockwise. She remembered hearing that when waging a siege, because the vast majority of soldiers were right-handed, clockwise spiral stairs were advantageous for defense. Many remnants of history still remained in this manor.
Moreover, the top floor, which Kirix said he used alone, could only be reached by passing through layer after layer of maze-like passages. This complex structure must have been a means of protecting the royal family from outside invasion.
“The corridor here is dark.”
“Since I am alone, there is no need to light it brightly.”
Perhaps that was why. The air here was far quieter and denser than on the other floors. It felt like being drawn into the deep of night. The temperature also felt somewhat lower.
It was as if she were walking step by step through a cold current of water. Her legs felt heavy, and Ayesha checked her feet several times.
“Did you know that the first fountain pen was developed by House Eseldor?”
With his hand resting on the doorknob, Kirix suddenly parted his lips.
It was something she had never heard before. Ayesha shook her head.
“No, I did not know.”
“To put it more precisely, rather than the fountain pen of today, it was a kind of…… how should I say, an object that could have been the origin if it had been developed well. Of course, it was an unofficial invention. Our family is descended from a nomadic people who built a nation through countless wars, so we are larger in frame and stronger than most people. Our grip is also strong, so fragile quill pens break after only a few uses.”
Ayesha glanced sidelong at the hand with which Kirix held the doorknob. The thick, straight bones gave a clean, imposing appearance. Even when he lightly grasped something, the tendons of his knuckles bulged out. Certainly, ordinary objects would not survive long in that grip.
“So you must have needed a sturdy pen.”
“Yes, it was a simple intention. We needed a pen barrel and nib strong enough to withstand the grip strength that had once held swords and bowstrings. There are records that they sharpened the tip of a stone to a point, bored a thin hole through the center, and used ink made by mixing charcoal and oil so that it would flow down, but now that the history is lost, it has become nothing more than an empty name.”
Creak—the door of the office opened. At the same time, a deep fragrance wafted out from beyond the space. Wondering where the scent came from, Ayesha looked around and found a desk, chair, and bookshelves made of juniper.
“It seems you like juniper.”
It was the scent of a forest that cleared the chest. Ayesha breathed in the fresh fragrance deeply.
“Rather than liking it…… there is a folk belief that juniper wards off ghosts.”
There was such a belief?
She swallowed her breath wrong and nearly burst into coughing. She quickly bit her tongue and barely held it back.
Moreover, if he not only knew the folk belief but had replaced all the furniture in the office where he had to spend most of his day as lord with juniper, then Kirix’s daily life could already be said to be ruled by the evil spirit. More precisely, by the fear of that unknown being called the evil spirit.
Kirix, who had entered a step behind her, closed the door of the office.
“So, about the fountain pen—since our family has a long-standing interest in writing implements, there are some pieces made thinner and shorter to fit a woman’s hand. I will gift you one that suits you, Ayesha.”
“Ah…… a fountain pen?”
“You will surely like it. Now, where did I put it?”
With a short murmur, Kirix opened three or four drawers looking for the fountain pen.
“Hm, here it is.”
He handed her a long case. Ayesha opened the case and took out a fountain pen that looked like new.
Even to the eye of someone who knew nothing, it was an uncommon treasure. The craftsmanship, using gold and amethyst without reserve, looked less like an object to be held and used than a treasure to be carefully displayed and passed down through generations.
She could not tell whether she should admire the man’s nerve in readily offering such a thing for use, or whether the wealth of House Eseldor, which did not even regard a fountain pen of this caliber as precious, was simply astounding. Meanwhile, she herself was afraid that if she so much as scratched it with a fingernail, she might leave a mark. Her hand trembled just from holding it.
“Try writing with it. A pen must be tried firsthand to know.”
Urged on by Kirix, Ayesha inadvertently opened the cap. The fountain pen even had a perfect curvature, delicately calculated so that it would not be uncomfortable when held.
Moreover, the sleek, sharply refined, glittering nib of the fountain pen was on a different level from that of a quill, which quickly grew blunt and leaked ink. With this nib, scratching across the paper would surely produce fluent, delicate strokes. It was the kind of object that would naturally refine one’s handwriting as well, simply because one would write carefully for fear of wearing down the nib.
It should have been. It certainly should have been…….
Ayesha stared blankly down at the nib. Her heart pounded uncomfortably around her chest. Suddenly her breathing quickened, and her eyes stung painfully.
Why is this happening again, really.
Just as some people fear high places and others fear water, perhaps she felt fear toward sharp objects—so at one time she had even touched knives and needles. But while she clumsily diced carrots with a knife or roughly stitched torn clothes with a needle, only her own poor dexterity caught her eye, and there were no particular symptoms.
Only the fountain pen was the problem. This very fountain pen, formed of soft and elegant curves, whose value her ordinary eyes could not even begin to guess, and which even had a nib that seemed almost tailored to her hand.
An inexplicable chill kept rising. Afraid that the faint up-and-down trembling of the fountain pen would draw the man’s gaze, Ayesha clasped it with both hands and applied force.
“Oh my, it seems you do not like it. Then how about this?”
When she stood motionless holding the fountain pen with both hands, Kirix tried to hand her another fountain pen case.
“No, no.”
Hoping it would not look too awkward, Ayesha gathered her smile with all her strength.
It would be the same with any other fountain pen. This turmoil rising in the center of her chest would not easily subside. She held the fountain pen back out to the man.
“It is not that I dislike it…… I am grateful for your consideration, but it is too burdensome and precious an object for me. I have never even used one. An ordinary quill pen is enough for me.”
Fearing that her refusal might offend him, Ayesha chose and rechose her expressions carefully. Who would dare refuse a kindness bestowed by Kirix Eseldor? She might well be the first.
“……I see.”
At his somewhat lowered voice, her heart dropped with a thud. But he soon withdrew the subtle expression and, without another word, took the fountain pen from her hand.
“Then since it is late today, I will tell the butler in advance so that you may go out tomorrow afternoon.”
What a relief. Only then did strength drain from her whole body, and her shoulders slowly sagged. She had not known she was this tense, and Ayesha was rather surprised.
It was not as though she were a rabbit thrown before a hunter—what was all this?
Above all, this man treated her softly and kindly, to the point that the gap in status was rendered meaningless. She felt somehow foolish, frightening herself alone for no particular reason.
It must be because there were so many people who had died or been injured in this manor. Hadn’t the aunties gossiped about it as well?
“What can you do about a family disposition that is strange? Ah, no matter how I think about it, I think the site of that manor is not good.”
She had heard chilling rumors even before setting foot in the manor, so it was only natural to feel uneasy. No matter how stouthearted a person might be, it was only natural to shrink in a place like this.
They had said that everyone in this family came to a bad end in their later years. Not only was there a rumor of madness through the generations, but Kirix’s grandfather and father had tried to kill each other and finally met catastrophe.
Moreover, hadn’t they said that the man before her, though barely made lord, was already suffering from an evil spirit? Even the Rottweiler he had raised had bitten to death the spiritualist who came to exorcise the evil spirit. For those who had grown up under the name of House Eseldor, misfortune and ill luck seemed to follow like shadows.
And Langfield Manor, where they had settled and lived for generations, was the most beautiful haunted house in the world.
Ayesha deliberately brushed off her goosebumped shoulders for no reason.
