“I expected wariness toward refugees, but never imagined such profound suspicion. Even though we approached bearing gifts.”
Charlotte spoke first, seeming self-conscious about defending her countrymen after being refused lodging at every household, including the very last one.
“Just being in a village shields us from wild beasts,” Leon replied. “Sleeping outdoors isn’t so bad.”
“Wouldn’t encountering beasts be advantageous anyway? They’d simply become tomorrow’s meal,” Charlotte quipped.
Though intended as humor, Leon didn’t laugh. Charlotte was astonished by how cold the man had become the moment Veronica disappeared from sight. While bathing together, Veronica had often confided concerns about her husband being “too smooth-talking and playful.” But from Charlotte’s perspective, Veronica had no reason to worry about her husband’s attentions straying. He seemed like a completely different person—austere and cold. An observer might mistake him for a paladin who had devoted his entire life solely to divine service.
“By the way,” he suddenly interjected. “I don’t see those two anywhere. Have you heard anything about where they might have gone?”
Following his gaze around the area, Charlotte noticed that indeed, only their horses remained tethered beside the tent.
“I suppose they’re just looking around,” she said. “I can hear lute music coming from over there.”
At her observation, Leon immediately turned toward the tent from which the melody flowed. Rationally, he knew he had no cause for concern, knowing Veronica carried her sword and Enzo had proven himself honorable. Or is it precisely his gentle nature that worries me?
Enzo, their traveling companion these past weeks, possessed a gentle, tender disposition. In other words, he was just the type of man that women would like.
“Oh! How beautiful…”
Upon hearing this exclamation, the moment they entered the tent, Leon halted his thoughts and turned sharply toward the makeshift stage. And then, he found himself utterly captivated, unable to tear his gaze away.
Before the wide-eyed children, Veronica gracefully unfurled crimson fabric in sweeping arcs. Her southern-style vermilion dress revealed her fair shoulders, the skirt fluttering above her knees like butterfly wings. Butterfly, he thought, considering his mental comparison remarkably apt. As an unknown man plucked the strings, Veronica glided with ethereal grace to the lute’s monotonous melody. Charlotte, entering just behind him, also stopped in surprise.
“Was she a dancer before? Dressed so magnificently, she looks like a different person.”
Leon offered no reply. He hadn’t even heard her words. He was simply watching her—his beloved who had instantly enchanted the small audience of six or seven children, now bowing elegantly as the gentle lute melody ended.
Glancing sideways, Charlotte thought that if one could witness the precise moment when a person falls in love, it would look exactly like this. Light and shadow played across his distinct features. The man seemed simultaneously to be restraining a powerful impulse and completely surrendering to it.
“Surprised you, didn’t I? It’s your first time seeing me dance!”
Veronica leapt from the stage and raced toward Leon the moment she spotted him. His cool, stoic expression melted into warmth the instant he wrapped her in his embrace.
“I thought I’d been gone for three hours at least. What did you do in that brief time?”
“Oh, you know, someone said they could spot talent with just a glance and begged me to perform, so I danced. Right, Enzo?”
“Yes, well, I didn’t hear it personally. Perhaps this request came from the cat?”
Veronica furrowed her brow at Enzo’s teasing and grumbled that he could at least back up her story. Leon watched their playful banter for a moment before intertwining his fingers with hers, effortlessly reclaiming her attention.
“How did you become a real person?”
The question came suddenly. Everyone’s heads turned in unison.
The one who’d asked the question was a bright-eyed little girl who had been watching Veronica earlier with her mouth agape in wonder.
“…What?” Veronica asked.
“You were a puppet just moments ago.”
At first, Veronica couldn’t comprehend what the child meant. Her heart plummeted, the thunderous sound echoing in her ears. Is she asking me how I transformed from a Bahamut into a human?
But then the child pointed toward the puppet show props still visible on stage and said, “The lady and the knight.”
Veronica spotted the black short-haired puppet and immediately understood. The child believed Leon and Veronica had somehow sprung to life from the puppet show—despite Leon not even carrying a sword.
“Through love?”
Everyone turned to look again. It had been Leon who answered, his face a perfect deadpan mask—like how adults teased children while appearing entirely serious.
“Love breaks all curses,” he said. “That’s the ancient law of magic.”
Veronica blushed as she watched the girl’s eyes sparkle with awe. Being the object of such admiration felt strange.
I must seem like such a worldly adult to her. Like someone who holds all the secrets of the universe.
“Then how can I find a knight like you did?” the child asked again.
Veronica fell into contemplation. Memories surfaced of herself as a young girl, meticulously memorizing the names of knights across the continent, her heart full of admiration and longing. I was once just like her. If only someone had told me then what I know now—how much that would have meant.
“You don’t need a knight,” Veronica said softly, kneeling down to meet the girl’s gaze. “Just love yourself. Love—no matter what kind—has the power to break any curse.”
The child’s bright eyes widened with wonder, drinking in every word.
After bidding farewell to their young admirer, the two performers who had lent Veronica the dress and played the lute approached. The woman cradling a cat gestured toward the food in Charlotte’s hands, inviting them to share a meal in exchange for shelter in their tent. The lute player, with the carefree air of a wandering soul, mentioned he was hunting for captivating stories to incorporate into his puppet shows.
“Actually, I might have the perfect tale for a puppet show,” Veronica interjected, turning her head while watching the child skip away. “It’s inspired by the piece you just performed, but with a twist…”