A surprising sense of satisfaction filled my heart when Abigail called me her special person.
Rodney has always teased me for my pettiness, so I know I am, but I suppose I was more jealous than I admitted to myself.
Natural disasters beset the small country annexed by our royals about two hundred years previous, and I suspect that was the forest’s attempt to avenge the Monster King. That means the human who shared potatoes with the Monster King lived before then. I’m shocked to realize that I envied someone so long gone.
Although Abigail’s gaze is trained on Haydn’s casting hand, her focus appears to be on something invisible to me. Eventually, she blinks and nods in satisfaction.
I pray she won’t try to replicate the spell on the spot, and thankfully she doesn’t, either because she’s promised me she won’t, or can’t. I’m certain it’s the former, which is fine as long as she’s sated her curiosity and we can leave.
I start to dismiss Haydn, who hastily yelps, “Tea! I’ll brew us some tea!”
“Thank you!” chirps Abigail.
She appears excited. Maybe too excited. Abigail seems to understand that Haydn is no longer her past self, and the invitation was welcome nonetheless. Perhaps she’s simply glad to gain Haydn as a friend. As someone who’s often suffered Haydn’s unwanted attention, however, I can already guess what the woman is trying to do.
“What kind of tea is this, Wendy?”
“Something from home. I brought it because there’s nothing good here.”
It’s a rare and expensive tea, thick and lumpy like algae. Just what is she trying to feed my little chick?
I gently push the teacup away from Abigail as Haydn places it before her, but she grabs it a moment later after seeing Haydn take a sip. That’s right, to wait for the other party to drink first is good manners! But! She’s usually more patient because tea is h—
As expected, she starts to splutter.
I quickly pour the contents of my cup back into the teapot, rinse it out with hot water, and refill it with clean water from the pitcher before passing it to Abigail. Haydn can choke for all I care.
“My mouth feels prickly,” Abigail mumbles.
“Haydn put in too many tea leaves. Besides, this type should have been brewed at a lower temperature and left to steep for longer.”
“You’re amazing, my lord!”
“Thank you, but what I know is all theoretical. I don’t really know how to brew it myself.”
“Maybe Rodney can do it?”
“Yes. He’s out on an errand right now, but we’ll have him brew it next time.”
I’d sent him on a job, perhaps for the best. The waste of such rare tea leaves would upset him.
“Boo. You knew how to brew this, Gerald? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you looked so confident despite your ignorance.”
“Wendy couldn’t help it. Rodney isn’t around to guide her.”
I shush Abigail and dab at her lips with a handkerchief.
Haydn stares, bemused. “You’re not the Gerald I know at all.”
Who cares? Haven’t you done enough? Just go away.
“Not Gerald…?” Abigail studies me, then Haydn, then me again. Her confusion is to be expected, since she doesn’t know how I was before. “But Wendy, my lord is Gerald.”
“That’s not what I meant?!”
A cough of laughter escapes me. I can’t help it; the dual strike of Abigail’s serious response and utterly bewildered expression is just too funny. So cute.
She’s right though. My current self is the true me.
I’m aware that I’ve changed, certainly where Abigail is concerned, and of course Haydn won’t know that. Besides, we aren’t close, so she has no right to act like she knows me well.
“Why…? The Gerald I know has always been cold and indifferent toward girls.”
“That’s right. My lord is great at wielding ice magic.”
To do so is rude, yet I can’t stop laughing. It isn’t right at all. And Abigail’s trying to be understanding too…
In reality, the woman in front of me is why I gained my reputation of being callous and hateful to girls.
Since childhood, I’ve been warned that deception and betrayal are inevitable in aristocratic life. And noblewomen are far more deadly than men in such circumstances. That said, intrigue usually occurs in private and away from male eyes. For example, salmon jerky is never served at tea parties with men present.
Whenever I was forced to a tea party, girls squabbled for the chance to sit beside me and often spoke over one another, trying to seize control of the conversation. We were all children, and even then I understood how uncultured their behavior was. I vividly remember my desperate wishes to leave.
Their one-upmanship worsened when Haydn was involved, frequently devolving into physical fights. She never lifted a finger herself, yet the way she fueled the spats was somehow worse:
“Didn’t you know that Gerald doesn’t like that sort of thing? …Oh dear, and I kept reminding her to tell you.”
“Oh, Gerald’s schedule for next weekend is already full. He’s probably going to attend her tea party.”
“I hate to be the one to tell you, but she said this about you…”
When we first met, I thought she was okay, merely an overly sociable young lady unafraid to talk to me. Then more and more girls began to cling to me, even quarrel over me in my presence—and Haydn was always there. She pretended to be a mediator, chiding me or settling arguments by demanding that I attend so-and-so’s function. Once I finally realized what she was doing, I was so furious that I wanted to tie her up and throw her into the nearest river.
While the sons and daughters of lower noble houses adored Haydn because of her “fair and open nature,” those from higher-ranked families started to distance themselves from her. And after graduation, as Rodney soon discovered, she pressed for acceptance into the military academy not just because of her “aptitude” for healing magic, but also because she had no marriage prospects despite her status as the daughter of a wealthy earl.
Exhausted from laughing so much, I take Abigail’s hand, ready to leave the room when Haydn speaks again.
“Isn’t your marriage political? This…this gentle behavior isn’t like you at all, Gerald.”
“My lord is very gentle—”
“You stared at her adoringly all throughout lunch! And stroke her hair every chance you get! And you’re willing to wipe her lips?!”
“Shut up already. Let’s go home, Abby. I can’t deal with this woman any longer.”
Abigail glances between the two of us, her eyes wide as the mood in the room sours.
Haydn’s anger isn’t directed at her, but I’ve had enough. We’re past the point of politeness, and I don’t want my wife to see me lose my temper.
Haydn refuses to back down. “Aren’t I supposed to be the only girl you can speak honestly with, Gerald?!”
“I remember no such thing!”
I’ve never been able to understand her abnormal obsession with me, not that I’m interested in trying. She follows me everywhere, and I’ve never felt that she does so out of affection for me. She’s too naive to be plotting to use me to climb the social ladder, and given her attitude and behavior, she stands to lose more than she can hope to gain.
Perhaps she’s simply one of those people nobody will ever understand.
But hearing her shriek about being special reminds me of Abigail’s small human and how he prided himself on being the Monster King’s friend, and it all starts to make sense.
“Listen. I’m not to be won like some medal or trophy, and I won’t be your special someone. If you want to be recognized and respected so much, then work for it. And I’ve said this many times, but I’ll say it again: I find you a nuisance and I hate you.” It’s true, and I have, and she’s always brushed that aside.
Not today. She looks at me with wide eyes as though truly hearing me for the first time.
“Wendy Haydn, with the support of Marquis Drewett, the Noel family will be making a formal complaint to Earl Haydn. I’ll make sure that you can never leave your hometown again.”
“What? B-But the assignment—”
“It’ll either be your last, or your father the earl will ask for you to be withdrawn, whichever he decides.”
I’ve given her multiple warnings over the years, and though I usually feel bad invoking my father’s authority, I’ll use all means possible to be rid of her once and for all. I guess I really have changed.
“Wendy, people change all the time,” Abigail says abruptly in an emotionless voice, her gaze distant.
“…Huh?”
“People change; it’s inevitable.”
I wonder whether the Monster King thought that as it waited for the small human to someday return. Or when it continued to grant the wishes of the human villagers despite never receiving an invitation to their festivals.
“Just like how time caterpillars change into moss falcons.”
“What are those?!”
Time caterpillars are creatures that resemble caterpillars, and moss falcons are ferocious bird monsters. I didn’t know that one is the juvenile form of the other. How does a caterpillar become such an aggressive monster?
“You don’t know…? Oh! How about tadpoles? They change into frogs, right?”
“So?!”
“That’s why it’s inevitable that humans change. Our appearance doesn’t change like animals’, so it can be harder to tell, but we do.”
“What?! None of what you say makes sense!”
“Come, Abby, let’s go home,” I say.
“Yes!”
I didn’t expect her to try so hard to comfort Haydn. My little chick has such a big heart.