Chapter 13

“Could you… stay with me, just a little while? I know it’s a pathetic thing to ask, but just for a moment, together… please?”

Her eyes, lifted to him, pleading.

Her eyes were so wretchedly sorrowful that Christine had to look away.

“Just a little while, then.”

“Thank you…”

Adele’s face looked as if she might burst into tears at any moment, but she smiled again anyway. Still, she couldn’t manage to rise from where she’d sunk to the floor.

“I’ll just sit here a moment before I get up. My legs don’t have much strength left.”

In the next instant, Adele’s body was lifted clean off the ground.

“Chris!”

“If you’re going to tell me you’re fine, keep your mouth shut. I really will leave this time.”

He scooped her up into his arms, threatening her with a sullen face.

It was an expression she’d seen on him countless times before, and it drew a small laugh out of her.

“Mm… I won’t.”

Then she wrapped both arms tightly around his thick neck.

She’d been so frightened that her arms and legs were still trembling, and her heart refused to settle. But held in his broad arms, she felt steadier and more at ease than she’d expected.

Now that she thought of it, this was the first time since her mother had died.

The first time she had let herself lean on someone like this, without reservation.

Thump, thump.

Her heartbeat seemed to quicken a little more, for some reason.

---

“Your wound’s split open again.”

He set Adele down on the bed and tended to her hand first.

The cut she’d gotten the other time, from swinging the dagger, had torn open once more.

“It’s not a big wound. I’m fine.”

Christine seemed to swallow whatever he’d been about to say, took a slow breath, then drew the blanket up over her.

“Don’t think about anything. Just sleep.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Want some wine, then?”

There happened to be a bottle of wine on the mantel.

Her bedroom, like the rest of the house, was small and cozy. Heavy oak-colored furniture stood against white cotton bedding worked with embroidery, and bright tapestries and dried flowers decorated the walls.

The wine on the mantel looked faintly out of place in a room like this.

“Drinking on an empty stomach will give you a stomachache.”

Between baking pies all day and tending to her guests, she hadn’t eaten a thing herself.

“Should I bring you something to eat, then?”

“Thanks, but I don’t think I could get anything down…”

Catching the sharp look in Christine’s eyes, Adele’s expression turned sheepish.

“Sorry. I’m being difficult.”

“Good, you know it.”

Christine spun around and headed for the door, when—

“You’re not… leaving, are you?”

Adele’s startled voice followed after him.

At the pitiful sound of it, he smiled back at her, as if to reassure her.

“I’ll be right back.”

---

When Christine came back into the room, he carried a wooden tray in his hands.

On it, the apple pie she’d packaged up earlier sat alongside a glass of milk and a few pieces of fruit, all arranged rather nicely.

“I had someone clean up the house, more or less. But this was all I could find to eat.”

It felt like a comment on how bare her pantry was, and Adele flushed with embarrassment.

She’d spent every coin she had recently on ingredients for her desserts, which meant her stores of actual food were nearly gone.

“It’s only because I haven’t done the shopping for proper meals yet. If you look, there are potatoes, and mushrooms too…”

Christine held out a wedge of pie cut into a triangle.

“Eat this first. You’re nothing but bones — I swear I heard you rattling when I carried you.”

“That’s ridiculous— mmph!”

Christine had shoved the pie straight into her mouth.

“It makes perfect sense. If those bastards had landed even one solid hit, you’d have broken bones in a few places.”

“Mmmph…! I’m not… that… weak.”

With her mouth full of pie, Adele couldn’t get the words out properly.

“What was that? Can’t hear you.”

Christine leaned his ear close to her mouth, then nodded as though he’d understood perfectly.

“Ah, so you’re saying I’m completely right?”

“…Don’t… go putting… words in my mouth!”

“So you’re saying you’re so grateful you don’t even know how you’ll ever repay this kindness?”

“Hey!”

“Well, if you’re really that grateful, you could always just grant me one favor.”

Christine gave her a pretty, smiling-eyed look, the kind meant to wear down her resolve.

Adele, having finally managed to swallow the pie, asked,

“If it’s… something I can manage.”

She owed him, after all, and some kind of repayment was only right. It had absolutely nothing to do with being swayed by that smile of his. Absolutely nothing.

“It’s nothing difficult.”

“Tell me, then.”

“I want to move into your house.”

Adele tilted her head.

“You’re already in it, aren’t you?”

“For a while. Staying.”

“Staying — for a while?”

“It looks like I’ll be taking command of the Imperial Guard soon. So instead of going back to my estate, I’ll be staying somewhere near the palace.”

“But our house is far from the palace. Someone like you could find a fine house nearby easily enough.”

“Of course I found one. Right in front of the palace. But it needs repairs, and I need to hire staff, so I need somewhere to stay in the meantime.”

“But there’s nowhere in our house really fit for you to stay…”

“The second floor doesn’t look like it’s in use. I’ll take that.”

“Chris, I told you. Nothing good comes of being tangled up with me.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t give your man any reason for misunderstanding.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“If you’re worried about the princess, don’t be. April will understand well enough.”

April…

Right. He had a princess, didn’t he? One whose name he called so fondly.

So there couldn’t be any other intention behind this.

It was only her, reading too much into nothing.

“Give me a little time to think about it.”

“And if something like today happens again?”

Adele flinched before she could stop herself.

“You carry a dagger around with you at all times — doesn’t that mean you feel the danger is real? I doubt you actually enjoy situations like that.”

“Of course not.”

After what had happened to him, Eaton probably wouldn’t come back. But there was no guarantee something like this wouldn’t happen again.

Just recalling the horror of a little while ago was enough to make her whole body stiffen.

If Christine hadn’t come back when he did…

“By the way, how did you end up coming back?”

“I heard a bell.”

“You’d already been gone a good while. Weren’t you far off by then?”

“My hearing’s rather good.”

“That’s absurd.”

Still, on a day like today, she didn’t know how grateful she was that he’d been there.

“Just… until the repairs on your house are finished, then.”

Adele gave her consent, carefully.

“Of course. I won’t stay even if you beg me to, after that.”

Then Christine handed her a cup of warm milk.

“Drink up. It’ll help you sleep. I put sugar in it too.”

Adele was a little surprised.

When she was little and couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning, her mother used to bring her warm milk with sugar stirred in.

“You remembered that?”

“You’re the one who told me. That it worked like a charm whenever you couldn’t sleep.”

Had she? He’d remembered it remarkably well.

“I’ll drink it gladly, then.”

Adele took the cup of milk in both hands. Just the warmth seeping into her palms was enough to make her feel drowsy.

Sipping at the milk, she caught Christine watching her intently and gave an awkward little laugh.

“Somehow this feels like being a child again. Here, you have some too, Chris.”

Setting down the cup, Adele carefully held out a piece of the pie.

“It’s not as good as what Mother used to make, but it should still taste good.”

“No need. Why would I eat what you made for someone else?”

“I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but the truth is, I’ve been baking apple pie all this time just to invite you over. I wanted to make one that tasted exactly like Mother’s, and invite you to have it.”

Christine narrowed his eyes, and she pouted at him.

“If you don’t want to believe me, then don’t.”

“Then make me believe it.”

At the seriousness in his voice, Adele laughed bitterly.

“The truth is… I deliberately avoided making apple pie, all this time. Because it brought back too many memories…”

Because she was afraid she’d start wanting to go back to those days.

Wanting something impossible was simply too unhappy a thing.

“Ah…”

Christine opened his mouth, as if asking to be fed.

“I fed you, so you feed me too.”

“You didn’t feed me. You shoved it in.”

Even so, Adele obediently fed the pie into Christine’s mouth.

Chomp!

In that instant, he caught her wrist and bit down hard on the pie — and in the process, her fingers ended up in his mouth along with it.

“—!”

At the hot, sliding sensation, Adele flinched and yanked her hand back.

“Better than I expected.”

Christine, apparently none the wiser, chewed away happily at the pie.

But where his tongue had brushed her finger, it burned as though scalded.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Yes, I— I’m eating…”

Adele was taking a sip of milk when—

Suddenly the cup slipped out of her hands. Christine had taken the cup she’d been drinking from and drank from it himself.

And of all places, his mouth found exactly where her lips had touched. The milk left on the rim of the cup vanished between his lips.

“…”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He asked as if genuinely puzzled, playing innocent as though he had no idea at all.

“Some things never change. You always get milk all around your mouth.”

With a finger that still felt warm from before, Adele wiped at the corner of his mouth.

Naturally, the way she always had when they were children.

But the moment her finger touched his lips, her heart began to pound rapidly. It seemed to be because his lips were far softer and more yielding than she’d expected.

An inexplicable heat rose to her cheeks, and she felt thoroughly confused.

What in the world is wrong with me…

“Looks like the milk’s already working. I’m sleepy.”

Adele quickly pulled the blanket up and lay down.

“Should I stay by your side until you fall asleep?”

“I’m fine. I think I’ll fall asleep soon.”

“Then I’ll go.”

“Mm. Thank you, really, for staying with me today.”

“I’ll bring my things over as soon as I can.”

“Mm-hm.”

Adele closed her eyes slowly, like someone drifting off to sleep.

Is it really all right, living together with him?

Could she keep him from noticing the way her heart turned strange every time she looked at him?

“About the pie…”

At the voice that suddenly came from right in front of her face, Adele’s eyes flew open in surprise.

He was leaning down so close their faces nearly touched. The instant she met his deep, dark eyes, she tried to turn her head away, but it was no use — he cupped her cheek gently, turning her face back to his.

Don’t look away from me, Adele.

It was a touch that seemed to say exactly that — gentle, and yet insistent.

And it felt as though, at any moment, he might lean down and kiss her.

As though under some kind of spell, all the strength went out of her body. A strange heat seemed to leave her dizzy.

If he really did kiss her, then maybe…

A soft brush of lips.

His lips touched lightly down on Adele’s cheek, then withdrew.

“It’s the same taste as back then. The first one you ever gave me.”

While Adele stared at him, bewildered, Christine simply turned and walked away.

His footsteps receded, heavy and even…

Click!

The door closed.

“Haahh…!”

Adele let out all the breath she’d been holding in one rush and let go of the blanket she’d been gripping. Her palms, she realized, were damp with sweat.

Now that she thought of it, the very first thing she’d ever given Christine had been apple pie.

So he had remembered that taste, after all.

---

Thud. Thud…

Heavy footsteps echoed through the darkness.

Eaton, who had lost consciousness, finally forced his eyes open at the sound.

“Mmph! Mmph!”

He realized he was bound to a chair, and fear seized him in an instant. But a gag filled his mouth, and he couldn’t get a single word out.

The moment he’d fled Adele’s house, something had struck him across the back of the neck, and he’d blacked out. When he opened his eyes again, he was tied up like this.

It was exactly the same as at Madame Hans’s party.

Could it be — Count Weiss, again?

The one difference this time was that he’d been dragged somewhere he couldn’t place at all.

Darkness pressed in on every side, and shards of broken, colored glass scattered here and there suggested some abandoned house of worship.

Why bring me to a place like this?

All the while, the footsteps kept echoing through the dark, drawing steadily closer.

At last, moonlight slanting through a broken window caught a pair of long, booted legs.

Terrified, Eaton found his gaze dragged upward before he could stop it.

Count Weiss!

It really was him.

Just then a breath of wind swept past, scattering Christine’s hair into silver strands.

The sight was beautiful enough that he couldn’t tear his eyes away, yet it sent a chill crawling over his skin. The air around him was nothing like what it had been back at Adele’s house.

A beautiful face, utterly without warmth, cold all the way through.

If Death itself had a face, might it look something like this?