THE strong wind lashing the forest suddenly falls silent. Moonlight shines down on us in the quiet as though nothing had happened.
The dragon gazes at the moon like an actor in a stage play, then places its front legs back on the ground. Its white scales are stained red with, yes, mulberries… It seems to have lost all its rage and even looks a little depressed. It clearly has lost all interest in us. We had better escape while we can.
“…Master?” whispers Rodney as he tugs at my sleeve.
I know. Abigail is almost certainly responsible. She must have wielded extremely potent magic, and my desire to check on her is overpowering. I turn to go, then freeze at the sight before me.
The dragon is meandering across the clearing, gathering fallen acorns with its short front legs. When it bends to collect more, however, some of the nuts tumble back to the ground. I stare at its futile attempts for a moment.
Rodney notices my gaze and looks as well, then doubles over as though struck. Argh! Damn him!
✦ ✦ ✦
🎂🎂🎂
WE whistle to summon our horses and ride back toward the manor. As we exit the forest, we encounter the guards. Panicked, they didn’t know whether to run away or return to help us. Because they’re still young, I won’t reprimand them for their indecision, though I’ll have to increase their training once everything is settled. For the present, I signal them to fall in behind me as I urge my horse to up its pace.
“Funny how we’re rushing back to the manor, but you still stopped to help the dragon,” Rodney teases as he pulls up beside me.
“It didn’t take long,” I grumble.
I just couldn’t help myself. Maintaining a safe distance, I used wind magic to collect a number of acorns and stuffed them into the tattered sack. Abigail said that the Monster King wasn’t particularly good friends with the dragon, but considering the night’s events, that hardly seems to be the case.
It’s before dawn, yet at every house we pass, the door is tightly shut, faint light filtering through the windowpanes, as if the entire city is holding its breath. The sheer number of backlit windows reminds me that the locals deserve no mercy. They may not know exactly what is going on, but they’re obviously aware something is happening. And despite their knowledge, they neither warned nor aided us outsiders.
Worried about Abigail’s safety, I hurry onward. She’s much stronger compared to the time she got a nosebleed, so I doubt she’s terribly hurt, but what was the deal with all those acorns? What did she do, and why? Ignoring the fact that it’s not acorn season. I can just imagine the confusion on my little chick’s face when I ask her. She’s never understood why I can’t comprehend what she knows so naturally.
“My lord!” Abigail jumps on unsteady legs through the open door of a carriage parked in front of the manor. I hand the reins of my horse to Rodney and run to her, catching her moments before she collapses. She’s dressed in the same clothes as when I left her, so no nosebleed.
“You used magic, didn’t you? Let me see your— Huh?”
She frowns so cutely as she grabs my hands and moves them away from her face. What’s this? Why is she placing my hands on top of her head?
“Abby? Does it hurt here?”
“Yes! It does! But that’s not it!” My wife looks uncharacteristically upset.
If not the pain, then what could be bothering her? No, wait, I should focus on the pain!
“So it does hurt! Where?!”
“No!”
I try to pick her up, but Abigail won’t relinquish my hands, pressing them harder onto her head. She herself seems uncertain, unable to understand what she wants.
She stomps a foot on the ground. “It hurts! You forgot about me, my lord!”
“…Huh?”
I hear Rodney snort.
“I went to help Tabitha! It hurts! And when I came back! My lord was already gone! It hurts!” She punctuates each sentence with a stomp.
Wait, is she angry at me? She usually pouts when she can’t get what she wants, yet I’ve never seen her truly mad before… Perhaps even she is unsure what she’s feeling.
Rodney quivers, clutching the horse’s neck for support. Nor will Tabitha meet my eye from where she stands with a hand covering her mouth.
“Abby? I didn’t forget you, Abby. I really didn’t.”
“But you were gone!”
“Yes! I was wrong! Sorry! I’m truly sorry. You’re hurt, right? Let’s stop fighting, okay?” I bend to her height, and she rests her forehead against my shoulder. At last, I lift her in my arms
She pushes her face into me. “You mustn’t leave me behind, my lord,” she whispers, wrapping her arms snugly around my neck.
“I know; I was wrong. I’m sorry.”
This is why I can’t let my guard down! My little chick has the firmest grip on my heart!
I stroke her back and kiss her on the cheek and forehead, her breathing already beginning to even. I’m guessing she’s never stayed up so late before… I hug her tighter and rub my cheek against her silky red hair.
I finally notice the fourth prince watching me with an utterly bewildered expression.
“Erm, are you done, sir?”
“…Why are you eating salmon jerky?”
“Why, indeed…?”
Seriously. I don’t think I’ll ever understand him.