“Y-You better keep your promise! Get plenty of rest, okay?”
Agnes didn’t need to check the looking glass to know that she was bright red. Her heart was thundering away in her chest. A loud popping sound erupted, but Agnes was too distracted to look and see what kind of mushroom had grown as she ran out of the room, letting the door slam behind her.
Claude, who was left alone in the bedroom, turned his attention to the mushroom jiggling away on the back of his hand with a deep sigh.
“But how can I sleep now?”
The white mushroom cap bobbled around as if agreeing before Claude plucked it, his cheeks still red.
✦ ✦ ✦
🍄🍄🍄
AGNES stood in front of the vegetable patch she had cultivated in the Lefort manor gardens. Arms folded, she gazed down at the ridges in the earth.
Her brow was furrowed, her expression not exactly serene. Finally, Agnes unfolded her arms and sighed loudly.
“The spirits responded when I called them normally,” she muttered. “There was no need for that…performance, ever. So, now, what I’m curious about are the mushrooms.”
There were a few rows of brown-capped mushrooms growing among the medicinal herbs Agnes was cultivating for Cesar. Agnes had grown used to seeing the Lyophyllum decastes, but at this rate, she’d end up with an entire field of them—that wouldn’t be good.
“If I can summon the mushrooms at will, then I suppose I really must be a Mushroom Princess. Oh, I mean, Mushroom Queen,” she concluded.
Honestly, Agnes didn’t want to attempt it. If only she could continue pretending to be blissfully ignorant. That would be so nice. All the same, Agnes was engaged to a mushroom fetishist with dragon’s blood; mushrooms might come in handy. At the very least, she should check to see what she could do.
Yes. She needed to be brave and try it out.
Agnes held her breath and stared at the empty ridge in the dirt.
“M-Mushrooms… Come, mushrooms, come…”
No sooner had Agnes fearfully mumbled those words, a cacophony of pops resounded.
The familiar red-capped Amanita muscaria with its white warts appeared alongside the white-capped mushrooms with large warts indicative of the Amanita cokeri.
“Yeek! They sprouted instantly!”
Agnes found herself yelping in shock. The red and white warty mushrooms bobbled their caps as if excited. Unlike Agnes, they seemed to be enjoying themselves—or maybe that was just her imagination.
In the end, the mushrooms came when called. Having confirmed that simple but terrible fact—and considering these particular types were poisonous—Agnes decided to remove them.
It was all in the interests of food safety. Not in an attempt to destroy evidence, of course. Er, maybe.
With a sigh, Agnes reached for the mushrooms when she suddenly felt someone’s eyes on her.
“C-Claude?!” she exclaimed as she spun around.
“Yes, hello, Agnes. Those mushrooms look very pretty in your vegetable patch.”
Agnes faked a smile, inwardly sighing over Claude’s mushroom fixation.
As he stared at the mushrooms in the patch, however, Claude nodded as if he’d just confirmed something.
“Red and white mushrooms, both warty—excellent specimens. Just look at the colors, did you instruct them to grow that way, Agnes?”
“Yeek!”
The mushroom freak’s intuition was so sharp that Agnes yelped in alarm before quickly clapping a hand over her mouth.
Claude gave her an odd look, but Agnes tried to look nonchalant. Any further sprouting in this moment would not be good.
“N-No, of course not,” she said, her voice cracking a little. “The mushrooms simply sprout of their own accord. Perhaps I’m in a red-and-white mood today?”
“Hmm, I see.”
Phew. The mushrooms had always sprouted randomly until now, which lent credence to Agnes’s little white lie. If the truth were to be revealed, Agnes might end up obligated to sprout all kinds of mushrooms from morning until night for her future husband. The thought was terrifying, so she tried to change the subject.
“Are you feeling okay now?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m fine. I’ve come to escort you today. Let’s go and make our report to the king together.”
Agnes was glad to get away from the vegetable patch, but the concept of a palace excursion brought up fresh concerns.
Claude stroked her hair softly, perhaps sensing her worry, as they made their way to the capital.