Chapter 37 - Realization - 3

Two days later, in her quarters, Renée let out a deep sigh as she surrendered herself to her attendants' ministrations. Terisa's riddle had come to mind again.

'This is hard...'

She had spent nearly two days racking her brains, yet she still had no idea what the answer might be.

She couldn't ask anyone else for help.

... No, she couldn't muster the courage to ask.

Asking someone for advice about the answer would mean confiding her troubles to them. How could she possibly go around asking about that?

Renée didn't want anyone to know that Bera was making her act strangely.

Wasn't that embarrassing? She couldn't explain exactly why, but the thought of telling someone about it filled her with unmistakable embarrassment.

That private embarrassment had left her to struggle with the problem alone, and this was the result.

She still didn't know what emotion Terisa had described.

"All done, ma'am."

The voice interrupted her thoughts. Setting aside her musings, Renée rose with the support of her cane.

"Thank you. You've all worked hard."

"You can head straight out, ma'am. Sir Bera's waiting outside."

She flinched. At the mention of Bera waiting for her, her body once again began twitching beyond her control.

For some reason, she felt as though she were growing hot. She nodded, then slowly made her way out.

* * *

On the sunniest bench beside the flower beds in front of her quarters—the spot where Renée came to rest on days when she had no particular plans—Bera stood watch at her side and thought:

'She doesn't look well.'

More precisely, something was strange about her condition. The odd signs he had noticed little by little since they left Remeo had grown particularly pronounced lately.

Naturally, concern stirred within him. His gaze carefully studied her face.

Freshly groomed, Renée was a girl with a mysterious air whom anyone would call beautiful. But Bera, who saw her every day, could detect that all was not well beneath that beauty, in the slight droop at the corners of her eyes and the faint pout of her lips.

"Saintess, are you feeling unwell at all?"

"Hm? Oh, it's not that..."

A startled look crossed Renée's face.

Could he see right through her? The thought made her blurt out an excuse as though she had been caught red-handed.

"H-homework! I've been worrying about my homework!"

The words came tumbling out.

"Ah, is this to do with Lady Terisa's lessons?"

"Yes! She gave me a riddle, but I just can't think of the answer..."

Seeing the awkward expression on her face as she spoke, Bera fell silent to consider for a moment before asking,

"... Is it something you cannot share with me?"

He only wanted to help.

Renée jolted in alarm, then hastily stammered out a refusal.

"... I'm fine!"

For some reason, watching her turn her head away left Bera feeling hollow inside. He lowered his head.

"I apologize. I spoke out of turn."

"No, why are you taking it that way again...?"

Renée grew even more flustered.

She had realized that Bera was about to launch another of his damned apology barrages.

All she had to do was tell him not to apologize... but now even that was difficult.

Unlike before, Renée now knew for certain that Bera was the reason her emotions were in turmoil.

In other words, she had grown more cautious about every single thing she said to him.

"You must have your own reasons, Saintess, yet I spoke without considering them. Please punish this fool."

"N-no, that's..."

The frustration was driving her mad. Her head felt as though it were spinning.

At a loss for what to do, Renée floundered for a moment before squeezing her eyes shut and blurting something out.

Again, the words sprang from sheer panic. Thinking only that she had to stop Bera, she threw out whatever came to mind.

"I-it's a riddle about an emotion! Lady Terisa told me to work out what the emotion she described was..."

She stopped dead mid-sentence, belatedly realizing what a mistake she had made.

'... Idiot!'

At this rate, she might as well confess outright that he was the reason she was so unsettled.

Dismay welled up inside her at her own utterly idiotic behavior.

Bera raised his head at her words and looked at the peculiar grimace on her face.

'Something about an emotion.'

His mind raced. He had to be of help. It could almost have been called desperation.

What had he done since swearing to live for Renée? What had he accomplished since returning to the Holy Empire?

Even setting aside the fact that these peaceful days left him with little of consequence to do, all he had done was stand beside her and follow her around. Shouldn't he at least make himself useful at a time like this?

'She said it was a riddle.'

Judging by her reaction, she wasn't likely to tell him the riddle itself. He would have to infer as much as he could from the clues he had.

A riddle. An emotion. Terisa.

As he pieced together those limited clues and considered an answer that could connect them all, Bera found it easier to deduce than he had expected.

"Saintess."

"Y-yes!"

Renée jerked as she answered him. Cold sweat was streaming down her back.

"Might the answer be 'love'? Lady Terisa is the apostle of love, and the riddle concerns an emotion, so I believe it is a plausible possibility."

Renée froze.

Love.

The moment that word struck her ears, all thought ground to a halt.

"W-well, um, uh..."

Like a broken machine, Renée creaked out one fragment after another.

After a long struggle, the words she finally managed were so foolish that even she couldn't imagine saying anything more idiotic.

"I-I don't think it's love."

An outright denial. She wasn't even sure of it. She had simply surrendered to the childish impulse that surged up in her that instant.

"... Is that so? I apologize for being unable to help."

"It's all right..."

Renée bowed her head.

A silence laden with awkwardness followed.

* * *

That painfully uncomfortable silence had lasted well over an hour.

Ordinarily, Renée would have been unable to bear the atmosphere and said something, but she had no attention to spare for that now.

Love.

The emotion that might be the answer to Terisa's riddle.

Thinking about it left her no room for anything else.

She tried to deny that it could be true, but no matter how hard she tried to think of another emotion, her thoughts couldn't stray from the word "love."

Her whole face was burning, and the churning inside her had grown too intense to control.

All she could do in that state was fit her past behavior to that word, "love."

Even when she tried not to think about it... she would catch herself doing it again.

The fluttering when they held hands, the restless impatience as they talked, those moments in the meeting room that still made her thumb tingle whenever she remembered them—she kept applying the word "love" to them all.

The thought of "what if" kept returning, and she couldn't stop.

Even after all that, she still had no answer. Perhaps the reason was that, to Renée, love had always belonged to other people's stories.

Never in her life had she pictured herself loving someone. Her past had been too hopeless to imagine anything of the kind, and so she did not know love.

Learning her way around the village, building even a slightly more detailed picture of her pitch-black world—those things had mattered more. She had never had time to concern herself with love.

Hence her confusion.

As Renée continued struggling with it, Bera's voice filled the space between them.

"Saintess, shall we head inside soon?"

"Hm?"

"The sun will be setting shortly."

Her whole body jolted at his words.

Without even realizing it, she thought:

'... I don't want to.'

Not now. She was so confused that she felt she wouldn't sleep a wink if she went inside like this.

She needed more time to think.

Her mind quickly began assembling an excuse.

An excuse that would let them stay together longer, that would give her time to calm the turmoil inside her.

"Um...!"

Blurting out that opening, Renée swept her hand out and caught Bera's arm. Her fingers tightened hard around his sleeve.

"... Could we walk a little before going inside?"

Fortunately, this excuse came out sounding plausible.

As she inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, Bera answered.

"... As you wish."

* * *

Renée walked in a daze beside the flower beds surrounding the outdoor garden.

She held her cane in one hand. Her other hand rested in Bera's.

A hard, rough hand. The warmth flowing from it.

With all her attention stolen by that warmth and her thoughts growing more confused by the moment, Renée felt like letting out a shriek.

If Bera hadn't been beside her, she might actually have done it. That was how frustrated she was.

She simply couldn't understand why she kept thinking of the word "love."

Suddenly, she found herself resenting Bera.

Hadn't she already been unsettled because of him? Hadn't his words only made it worse?

Hadn't he tormented her by saying something he needn't have said?

As those thoughts rose, her grip on his hand tightened.

With the deepening warmth, her heart beat harder.

That was the truth of it.

Even as she denied it, her body kept reacting.

She couldn't turn away from it.

Even if she cried that it wasn't true, the tightness filling her chest insisted that it was. How could she deny it?

"Haa..."

A long breath escaped her lips.

In response came:

"Saintess?"

The voice that always watched over her.

Her heart gave a heavy thud, then began racing of its own accord again.

"It's nothing..."

She barely managed the words.

Then Renée squeezed her eyes shut and thought.

This was a trick played by realization.

From the moment the word "love" had occurred to her until now, everything she did after becoming aware of it had begun to take a consistent shape that fit that word. What could this be, if not a trick?

Yes, she admitted it.

Everything about her condition made sense if she put the word "love" to it.

Her curiosity about Bera was interest.

The pounding of her heart as they talked was excitement.

The heat that rose whenever they held hands was yearning.

Under names alike yet different, all those things pointed to a single emotion.

They were becoming a name that embarrassed her even to think of.

A name that stole her whole heart.

A name that dared to be such a thing.

... The name of love.

This feeling that had taken root within her at some point was calling itself by that name.