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“PLEASE take care of Agnes.” Benoit bowed to Claude, who had come to the Lefort residence to pick up Agnes on the day of the expedition departure.
Ciel was growling at Benoit’s feet, no doubt trying to reassure him. Although no one could understand his language, the talkative sacred beast had everyone charmed.
“I will. Please, take care of your health too, sir.”
“We have mushroom protection. No worries.” Kevin’s offhand remark made Claude’s eyes light up.
“Mushroom protection? Tell me more.”
“Gah! It’s time to leave now, isn’t it?!” Agnes piped up.
If the mushroom fetishist got started, they’d never get away. Anyway, the new security detail was intended to keep an eye on Kevin, not for Claude to start harvesting.
In a fluster, Agnes pushed Claude by the shoulders out of the entry hall to the waiting carriage. Surely there was no need for a prolonged farewell. What was with all the drama?
“Have a good time, Agnes.”
Agnes smiled and waved back to Benoit and Kevin.
“I will!”
Claude usually selected fancy carriages suitable for royalty, but today’s selection was different. It was fancier than an ordinary horse-drawn carriage, sure, but it seemed like this one had been selected for functionality over luxury. The wheels and siding looked very sturdy—it seemed to be intended for long-haul travel.
The coachman and a man who appeared to be an official escort bowed to her and reached for the doors. Agnes looked at Claude quizzically.
“Isn’t Maurice coming?”
Normally Maurice would be the one opening the doors, however he was nowhere in sight.
“He would, usually, but I asked him to stay behind and take care of a few things this time,” Claude said.
“But he’s your bodyguard, isn’t he?” Agnes asked.
Claude was so eminent a person, he naturally had a bodyguard whenever he went out to town. Could it be that he really wouldn’t have his bodyguard on a month-long expedition?
“Well, yes. This time, however, I have another reliable companion with me,” Claude spoke as the carriage door swung open, revealing a familiar face.
“Duke Granier?!” Agnes yelped in surprise as Claude escorted her into the carriage. She sat down beside Claude and across from Cesar. Ciel prowled around their feet. The sacred beast seemed to have aimed for Agnes’s lap at first, but one glance from Claude had him settling down beside Cesar.
As soon as the door closed, they started moving. It seemed that several guards would be following them on horseback. Considering royalty was involved, this seemed a very small entourage.
“My uncle is a Crest Bearer famed for his bravery. He’s much more powerful than most of the knights,” Claude explained.
“I-I know, but…”
“Hello, Agnes,” Cesar greeted. “Thank you for the pills you brought the other day.”
“You’re very welcome… Duke Granier, are you joining us for the whole expedition?” she asked in response. No matter how much better Agnes’s medicine had made the duke feel, she felt it wouldn’t be wise to overdo it. After all, it wasn’t as if he’d been cured.
“I’m sorry to intrude on the two of you, but an extra carriage seemed a needless extravagance,” Cesar said. “I hope you won’t mind riding with me.”
“In-Intrude… Not at all, I…”
“It’s not a pleasure trip. One carriage is fine,” Claude nodded reluctantly, as if he would have preferred it to be just him and Agnes in the carriage, after all.
“More importantly, are you feeling okay?” questioned Agnes.
“Thanks to you, I’m doing fine. Of course, I’ve brought the pills with me. I have permission from the king himself to be here too, and nobody forced my hand. Please, don’t worry about me.”
It certainly sounded like he was here of his own will. Still, Agnes knew he had difficulty attending official events until recently; she didn’t want him to exert himself.
“Please don’t push yourself too hard,” she said. “Oh, would you hold out your hand?”
“Hmm? Certainly.”
Agnes enfolded his hand in her own.
“Spirits, please lend your strength to Duke Granier,” she requested.
A ball of light formed in the cabin and seemed to circle the duke a few times before zooming over to Agnes and dissipating. Was this them signaling they were finished? Agnes still didn’t know where the spirits came from, but they always answered when summoned and gave their obedience.
“That’s odd, I suddenly feel much lighter,” Cesar said, sounding awed. “Thank you, Agnes.”
“It’s not me, it’s the spirits,” she replied. “Still, I think the effects are only temporary. You must make sure to keep taking the pills regularly.”
“Right. I know that, only…”
His reaction struck Agnes as strange, and she looked at him with curiosity.
“Is there a problem? Do you need a stronger boost?” she asked. “I’ll summon the spirits again.”
“No, I’m fine. Doing great, in fact. Don’t worry, Agnes. It’s just…”
The duke gestured toward her side, prompting Agnes to see Claude…making an odd face. It was the face of someone struggling and failing to repress a mixture of anger, suffering, and self-restraint. In any case, it was a complex expression, one she hadn’t seen before.
“Claude, what’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” she asked.
“Are you done? Quite finished?” Claude’s voice was tight with tension, but Agnes had no idea why.
“What?” Agnes blinked at him.
“She’s finished. See?” Cesar replied quickly. He passed Agnes’s hand over to Claude, who grabbed it and clung on.
“Claude?”
Was he not feeling well after all? She could make Cesar feel better with the power of the spirits, but she wasn’t sure if it would work on Claude as well.
Anyway, what was wrong with him?
“I know you’re thinking of my uncle. You’re so kind, Agnes. Only…” Claude gripped her hand even tighter. “It’s painful for me to see you touch someone else, gaze at them, speak kind words to them,” trailed Claude.
“Gazing?! I wasn’t gazing!” Agnes denied.
“I know. You did nothing wrong, my uncle too. It’s just…it’s painful. It’s hard for me.”
“What?! Claude!”
Claude hung his head, gripping her hand. What had gotten into him?
“Dragonmates can’t help themselves. Agnes, give the poor boy a hug,” Cesar advised.
“Wh-What?!”
“It’ll replenish him fastest. He needs a quick infusion of Agnes.”
“Replenish?!”
When did Agnes become a consumable resource? She herself had felt depleted walking around that mushroom mansion of horrors. That had nothing to do with this, though.
The duke was talking about topping up Claude’s…Agnes levels? But what exactly did that mean?
“Do it for Claude. Go on.”
The duke gave her an encouraging smile. Hug Claude here? In front of company?
“Agnes…” Claude gazed at her, his eyes colored with weakness. He was clearly suffering—over her. The cure was Agnes herself.
Highly embarrassing as this was, she’d do anything for Claude. Certainly, he’d earned it.
No doubt Cesar was right. Agnes made up her mind and spread her arms out wide. However, just as she was about to hug Claude, there was a loud, close, popping sound.
Agnes felt a soft sensation on her cheek and saw something yellow-brown and cracked in front of her. Her arms were around Claude’s shoulders—technically an embrace. With the Rugiboletus extremiorientalis that seemed to have sprouted on Claude’s chest between them though, it was more like they were hugging around a mushroom.
What was going on?
Still, she’d better wait and see what Claude did in response. Then, a deep sigh came from the other side of the mushroom.
“Agnes and a mushroom… Double the happiness,” he sighed dreamily.
…Apparently, this was a good thing. Mushroom fetishists were so hard to predict.
“I hope you feel better now?” she asked.
“Yes. Thank you, Agnes. Lovely mushrooms. Only…” With that, Claude quickly plucked the mushroom and then fully clasped Agnes.
Agnes, knocked off-guard by the surprise sprouting, found herself in his arms before she could resist.
“But you, Agnes, are more effective than any mushroom.”
Mere minutes before, Claude had sounded on the edge of tears. Now, he was whispering seductively in her ear. How was that fair?
“H-His Grace is right there!” Agnes protested.
“Indeed.”
But so what? Claude seemed to be thinking as he dropped a kiss on the top of Agnes’s head.
“Whaaat?!”
Claude’s moods were far too volatile! Just one mushroom could perk him right up.
“Agnes, you may as well give in,” Cesar said. “Crest Bearers get this way about their Dragonmates. Claude actually reins himself in quite well; the mushrooms help with that. It’s actually refreshing to see. You know, His Majesty, my brother, almost killed me once.” Cesar smiled, like he was reveling in a fond memory, but was that really the kind of thing you looked back on with a smile?
Almost killed. Well, what happened? No, wait, she didn’t want to know!
“Love’s a heavy burden, you’re saying?” Agnes guessed.
“Precisely. Anyway, I’m used to His Majesty’s antics with my sister-in-law. Don’t worry about me. You two go ahead and snuggle to your heart’s content,” Cesar said, giving them his blessing.
“No thanks!”
Such support. But no way was Agnes going to take the duke up on that!
There came a popping sound overhead as if to punctuate Agnes’s shriek. No doubt, some form of mushroom had just emerged, causing Claude’s grip to loosen slightly.
Agnes made out a flat, semicircular, bright red mushroom growing on the top front of Claude’s head like a flat-brim cap. While Claude was distracted by the Pycnoporus coccineus, she seized the opportunity to slither out—his fungus obsession came in handy at times like this. Perhaps Agnes should be more grateful for her powers.
Despite that, her relief was short-lived. Claude plucked the new passenger, clutching it as he put his free arm around her shoulders.
“I have Agnes with me and a mushroom in my hand; I couldn’t be happier. See Agnes, this mushroom is a Pycnoporus coccineus, and…”
Claude started happily rabbiting on about the specimen. Cesar stroked Ciel with a wry smile on his face. Surprisingly enough, Agnes didn’t really mind. Maybe Kevin was right—Claude had started to rub off on her after all.