AFTER my lord husband left to visit the fourth prince, I lay down on the couch in the parlor and fell asleep.
When I open my eyes again, I smell something warm and pleasant and feel myself rocking forward. My lord seems to have been about to pick me up.
“Oh, you’re awake. I was just going to bring you to bed.”
The sun is setting outside the window to the courtyard, the dying light reddening his black hair.
“Welcome home, my lord.”
“Yes, I’m home.” He kisses my eyelids, and I press my face into his chest. He chuckles as he lifts, then cradles me in his arms. “You must be tired. It’s almost dinner time, but do you want to nap a little longer?”
“No, I’m awake! I have to report everything that’s happened in your absence, my lord! But I want to stay like this!”
“Haha, as you wish.” He starts to walk, sometimes spinning us around as if we are dancing.
His arms are comfortable, like the rocking chair in Tabitha’s room. That’s fun to sit on, though I always tip over in excitement, so they didn’t buy one for my quarters. That’s fine, this is better.
“Welcome home, my lord.” For some reason, I feel like saying it again, and he humors me with a reply.
“I’m home.”
There’s so much to report. The game of falling stones the old gardener taught me, the books Miss Rickman showed me, and lots more! Oh!
“Oh no! The souvenir! Where is it?!” I had it when I fell asleep. I was holding it tight with both hands! But it’s gone! I panic, but my lord husband simply pivots and strides back toward the couch.
“There it is. Have you not opened it yet?”
Oh, there it is, on the coffee table. Of course I haven’t opened it; I want to share it with him.
We eat dinner together. Thick and juicy roast beef that’s so tender, smooth mashed potatoes, lumpy baked beans, and sweet onion soup. Everything is delicious.
I have so much to tell him that I take longer than usual to finish my food. He is in a good mood the whole meal though, so he doesn’t appear to mind.
And I think I can eat slightly more now, I realize.
For dessert is his souvenir.
“It smells so delicious!”
We have retired to the sofa when my lord husband opens the can with a pop. It smells sweet, though not like the sweetness of baked bread, and a little salty too. Inside the can are round, thin, palm-sized…cookies? I pick one up, and it sticks to my fingers a little.
“These are rice crackers, a traditional snack from one of our allies that participated in the joint exercise. It’s made from rice.”
“Rice! Like risotto rice? So we can eat rice as a meal or a snack…like how pancakes are made from wheat!”
When I first saw risotto, I thought it was a bunch of bugs. I had yummy bugs when I was the Monster King, and risotto is different. The tomato and milk and cheese flavors are all so scrumptious. So, no, risotto isn’t made of bugs. It’s rice.
“The people from that country speak of a golden-eyed monster that lives in the mountains, and they respect it as a sacred beast instead of a scary monster. If it does live in the mountains, I don’t think it was the Monster King but some other monster with golden eyes. That is, unless you traveled to the far side of the forest when you were Monster King?” he asks.
I remember telling my lord husband that the mountains didn’t exist yet back then. That’s why he’s concluded that the golden-eyed monster isn’t me. He’s probably right, although I do recall visiting that area too, maybe while enjoying a long stroll.
I relay that, and he nods.
“But nobody has ever called me a sacred beast before. The small human who shared his potatoes was the only one who ever talked to me, so he gave me my name. Anyway, ‘Monster King’ sounds more powerful than ‘sacred beast.’”
“…I see,” my lord husband says as he bites into a rice cracker. It crunches loudly. I guess bad manners are okay, so I’ll eat noisily too! Wait, it’s hard! Huh?! Why is it hard?! Why won’t it crunch?!
“O-Oh, here.” He breaks my cracker into bite-size pieces.
I try again—it’s so crunchy! I’ve never tasted the salty and sweet flavor before, and the hard texture is yummy and fun!
“Is it tasty?”
“Yes!”
He places the rest of the pieces on a plate, and I eat another. They’re as addictive as salmon jerky.
“Oh, by the way, remember I said I made a detour to run an errand for Prince Dominic on my way home? I ended up somewhere close to the Monster King’s forest.”
My mouth is full, so I just nod.
He had already separated from the troops and was on his way back to the capital when the rockfall occurred. Evidently Ethan and the others knew as much, albeit nothing more specific, because he’d planned on returning early as a surprise. In hindsight—and after a small lecture from Tabitha—he acknowledged that he shouldn’t have kept that a secret.
The whole cracker is impossible to bite into, so why is it easier to chew when it’s broken up?
“The dragon came and gave me this. I think it must have wanted to give this to you, Abby.” He pulls a plain handkerchief from his pocket and unwraps an angular stone, translucent and green in color. It looks like an emerald ore.