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SEVERAL days later, a large package from The Three Needles arrived at their front door. Lille unpacked a long-sleeved dress made of thick fabric, a winter negligée, a gown, and a coat. The coat was a deep, green color, and had both a cape and hood sewn into it. It looked like it would complement her bright green dress quite well.
“Ark, how does this look? Am I wearing it right?” she asked, twirling from left to right and twisting her neck over her shoulder to get a better look at it.
It was nighttime, and she was modeling her new clothes. Ark had happened to enter her room just as she shrugged on the coat. She was eager to try everything on as soon as possible. Each time she slipped her arms through the sleeves of a new article of clothing, her spirits rose higher and higher.
“Very nice. Both the color and the design look great,” Ark approved, flying in circles around her. “Aren’t you hot, though?”
“I suppose it is still a little too warm to wear it. I’m really looking forward to wearing it in the winter, though. Does it get very cold here?” she wondered.
“The snow can pile up pretty high. You might already be used to that from your own country, though.”
“Snow, huh…?” she remarked absently.
One year, she had seen heavy snowflakes from the window of her tower. It was a strange substance: although it looked fluffy and warm, she knew it was cold to the touch. Yet, even when she tried to stretch her arm out the window, she never managed to actually touch it. All she could do was listen to the children playing in it outside.
“I hope we get lots. I was always jealous of the people I heard enjoying the snow. Come to think of it, this is the first time I’ve been so excited for winter.” Lille smiled to herself.
She’d always known winter as a bitter, relentless season, during which she could do nothing but shiver in the corner of her bed and think about how hungry she was. In her new home it was different. She had a cozy house and could eat whenever she wanted. Furthermore, she had an incredibly warm family by her side. The cold was nothing to be afraid of anymore.
“We’ll need to clean out the fireplace before long,” Ark mused. “Winter’s pretty tough for me. I do a lot of wood-chopping, so I have to take human form more often than usual.”
“Can’t you just use magic to make the fire?” Lille asked, confused.
“Of course, you can use magic to light it, but when you need fire for a long period of time, you definitely need firewood to keep it going. It’s one of those cases where using magic would actually be more difficult,” he explained.
“That makes sense,” Lille agreed. She could see how it would be annoying to keep relighting it. Even after months of study, there were still many things she didn’t know about living as a sorcerer.
“Are you going to show Master Charlie your new coat?” Ark asked.
She froze. “Y-Yes, all right. Is he still in the living room? I’ll have a look.”
Since the onset of fall, Charles was away from home more often than usual. Sometimes, he claimed he was paying August a visit, but August never mentioned those alleged visits in letters to them. When Lille realized Charles was lying, she couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing, and where, although she had no intention of pressing him for answers.
Despite her love for Charles and their proximity, there was little Lille could do for him, other than make sure he ate a good, hearty meal when he was tired, and help out in the shop. Someday, perhaps, if she became a more knowledgeable sorcerer and more reliable adult, Charles would turn to her for help with whatever he was hiding. With that hope in her heart, she poured all her energy into learning as much as she could.
“Master Charlie? Are you in here?” she called from the hallway, popping her head through the doorway.
The living room was silent, but she could sense someone’s presence. Searching carefully, she finally spotted Charles dozing on the sofa. His arms and legs were strewn across it, peeking out from under his robe, and his expression was peaceful. Lille’s heart skipped a beat; it was rare to see him so unguarded.
I really shouldn’t wake him up.
But she was worried he’d catch a cold if he stayed so exposed. She tiptoed back to her room to fetch a blanket. Then, cautiously, she gently draped it over Charles’s sleeping form. She debated returning to her room and leaving him to rest, but she wanted to look at his serene face just a little longer. Slowly, she sat down in front of the sofa.
His eyelashes were long. His eyebrows were delicate curves. One section of long, golden hair was lying across his cheek. She wanted to brush it back, but didn’t have the courage to touch him. Not because he might wake up—but because she felt as though she would fall even deeper in love.
If she touched him, love would overflow from her fingertips in a never-ending wave. He was important to her, so she could never let him know. She could never tell him, and she could never let it show in her body language. To Lille, Charles was sacrosanct: no matter how much she loved him, his heart would always remain out of reach.
“Mm…” An uncomfortable groan suddenly spilled from his lips. His breathing sped up until it came out in huffs, and his eyebrows knitted together in pain.
“Master Charlie…?” she said, concerned. It seemed like he was having a bad dream.
Should I wake him up?
“Lille…”
“Huh?” She paused. Charles reached out in his sleep, calling her name. Without thinking, she grabbed his outstretched hand.
“It’s okay, Master Ch—” she began, but was interrupted by a pained murmur.
“I’m sorry… Forgive me…”
It hurts. I can’t do this. Save me. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. This is my punishment.
Charles’s thoughts came surging into Lille’s head, though she hadn’t even tried to read his mind.
“No… Why…?”
She tried to stop, but she couldn’t. A hazy scene came to her—what Charles was dreaming about, most likely. Then, in her mind’s eye, she saw a room all too familiar to her.
The tower…? I can see myself…with Master Charlie? What is this…?
In his dream, her appearance was the same as it had been just before she started living at Charles’s house. They really had met each other before. Not only that, but recently, too. Why didn’t Lille remember?
She couldn’t hear what either of them were saying, but Charles’s feelings came through crystal clear.
“There was nothing I could do.”
With a despairing shout, the image of the memory scattered away, disappearing into nothing.
“…Lille?”
The hand gripping her own relaxed, and Charles wearily opened his eyes.
“Master Charlie…” she sighed, to which he replied with an embarrassed, loose smile.
“Oh no… I guess I fell asleep here. Thank you for the blanke—” He turned to smile at her again, but froze when he got a proper look at her face. “L-Lille? Why’re you crying?”
“Huh…?” She blinked and touched her fingertips to her cheeks. Only then did she notice she really was crying. As though a dam inside her had burst, a constant stream of tears was rushing down her face with no end in sight.
Why does Charles have to suffer? Why does someone so kind and gentle have to be punished? Why can’t I do anything for him?
“Lille, are you all right? Are you in pain?” Charles asked, looking her up and down urgently. Watching his features contort in concern for her, a thought floated to the surface of Lille’s mind.
Even if it hurts me, I want to know the truth. I want to save him—whether he wants me to or not.