Chapter 38: CH 38

Tussa-san sat down next to me, silently sipping her drink. Looking where her eyes were pointed, I saw Fikar, who was unfazed by the adventurers pouring biting wine into his glass one after another. As I watched him drink like it was water, he noticed me. His blank eyes met mine.

“You… Why don’t you want to be Fikar’s lover?”

“Eh?”

I turned my attention back to the voice beside me. Holding a glass about one-third full of alcohol, Tussa-san was glaring at me. Her brows were furrowed so forcefully that she looked like she was in pain.

“Fikar is handsome and strong, and the one and only Hero. He gained a lot from accepting the rewards for defeating the Demon Lord. So why aren’t you marrying Fikar? Are you not attracted to him?”

“Err, well, just because a person has a lot of great qualities doesn’t mean I’ll like them?”

“There is no better person to marry than Fikar.”

“Maybe that’s true, but…”

I put the bite of cake on my fork in my mouth as I thought about what to say.

“Tussa-san, I think your feelings about marrying an exceptional man are very strong.”

“What’s wrong with that? You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“No, I don’t really think it’s a bad thing, but it’s like you’re saying that, if Fikar were to get injured or if his face were to change or if he were to stop being an adventurer, you wouldn’t like him anymore.”

“Obviously? If the husband you chose starts to drink and throw money around, anyone would lose interest in him. No matter how much you love someone, there’s got to be limits somewhere.”

“T, True… but, uhh, you see, Tussa-san, you might be setting the bar too high?…”

Even saying that, I wondered what I was trying to say. In the first place, I was tired and the room was much too noisy for me to think straight.

Certainly, if Fikar had turned out to be selfish and violent, I would’ve chosen to live alone as soon as possible. However, that kind of choice is only made to get rid of negative factors. Good looks and financial security are, on the other hand, positive factors. It’s good for a person to have a lot of positive attributes, but I’d say that the person you marry should be someone you’d continue loving even if those positive attributes diminish or disappear.

Well, I don’t know, I’d never been married and I’d never given the subject much thought.

When I told Tussa-san what I was thinking, her face contorted.

“Isn’t that too idealistic? There’s no way to know how you’d feel after their charm wears off and who knows how long it’d take to find out?”

“I see, that’s how it is.”

How vexing.

I guess Tussa-san, in a hurry to find the perfect husband, had her own criteria. That was fine, but I didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire – not that it mattered much, since my time in Carcathia was drawing to a close. By dawn, I’d be back in Tortea with a near-zero chance of meeting Tussa-san. Maybe she’d find someone before next year’s harvest season.

With that, I stood up abruptly. I faced Tussa-san, who looked up to match my gaze.

“You’re free to think that way, but Fikar is also free to think and, more importantly, Fikar and I are free to have whatever kind of relationship we want. It’s fine for you to say what you want, and it’s fine for us not to obey you. Yaa, freedom is the best~ OK! Well, I’m heading back now!”

Tussa-san gave me a frazzled look as I flashed a thumbs-up. The universe is so unfair, letting a beautiful woman remain a beautiful woman no matter what face she put on. I rode my momentum and raised the tension, shouting “Yay~!” The girls around us, swallowed by copious amounts of alcohol, replied in high spirits with their own cheers. I then turned to Fikar, who stood up and skillfully weaved through the crowd to me. Exchanging high fives and such with the drunks around me, I, too, made my way towards him through the melting pot of girls. It had been a long day and I’d had my fill of food and snacks, so I felt like returning to our room and going to bed.

When I asked Fikar if he was ready to leave, he nodded and picked me up with ease. He’d drunk so much that he smelled like biting wine, but he didn’t seem to be drunk and his steps were as steady as ever. I waved to Tarina-san and her friends on my Fikar-top perch, and they smiled and waved back. Their drinking party wasn’t over quite yet.

The inn was more full than I had expected and we found several other people who had left early like us. In our room, I changed and went straight to wash off my sweat. Soon after and refreshed from my shower, I was walking down the hallway when I was stopped by the sharp-eyed hostess.

Her rust-red hair was completely different from Tussa-san’s emerald-green hair, but on second look, I could see the similarities in their strong eyes and sharp noses. Will Tussa-san have a nose worthy of an eagle when she gets older? I wondered. Still, I wasn’t sure how hair color was passed on from generation to generation in this world. What color hair did her father have?

“Did you not drink? The biting wine here is superb.”

“Umm… I’ve decided not to drink until I’m 20…”

“The hell? You’re an adult, so just enjoy yourself.”

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The hostess huffed and told me to wait a second, disappearing into the kitchen.

The fact that she was so ready to act on her beliefs… It was like we were parent and child. Not long after, she came out with a whole man-eating melon. Its surface was dry and brown, meaning it could’ve only been filled with biting wine.

She thrust it towards me, leaving me unable to refuse.

“It looks like my daughter has caused you trouble. This’ll do. It was made with totol leaves to weaken the alcohol. I’ve also soaked some fruits in it, so you can savor them as well.”

“Th, thank you, very much…?”

“It’s the time to drink. Drink it soon.”

The hostess immediately withdrew into the kitchen.

Was this her way of offering an apology?

By the time I reached our room, Fikar was already sitting in a daze, having finished his bath. He looked curiously at the melon between my arms, so I explained how I got it. He nodded and grabbed the bowl we usually used for juice.

The wine that Fikar scooped into that small wooden bowl smelled slightly sweet, almost like peaches. Even putting my nose right up to the bowl, the scent of alcohol couldn’t be called strong.

“… It’s a gift… I guess I can drink a bit?”

Fikar was probably going to end up drinking it, but I might as well have a taste since it was a gift to me in the first place. At the bottom of the melon sat various fruits, and the hostess must’ve spent a lot of time making this.

Keeping that in mind, I took the bowl that Fikar offered me with both hands. Then, Fikar’s hands wrapped around mine. N? I glanced up at Fikar, who muttered something.

“ – – “

I tilted my head, unable to understand what he’d said, and he lifted the bowl closer to my mouth. Fikar stared at me as if to tell me to drink, so I leaned in and took a sip – just enough to wet my lips. A sugary taste spread in my mouth, dotted with a hint of spice that felt similar to cinnamon.

While I was surprised by its flavor, Fikar brought the bowl closer to him, his hands still wrapped around mine, and put his mouth on the other side to take a sip of wine.

Then he mumbled something again and gave me a sip. This time, my mouth was far enough into the bowl to swallow some of its liquid, and a deep sweetness and feeling of warmth found its way down my throat.

I watched as Fikar downed the rest of the wine, separating his hands from mine when he was done.

I was about to ask him what this was about, but I froze when I saw his face.

Fikar was smiling.

His face, which sometimes made me question if he had fewer muscles than others, was softly smiling in a way I’d never seen before. His well-formed and frigid expression was filled with an unusual yet charming tenderness. His dark blue eyes felt pleasantly gentle, too, and the area from the corners of his eyes to his cheeks had been dyed a light red.

As I stared at this unfamiliar expression, Fikar, with the bowl still in his hands, rubbed his forehead against my nape. I retreated as if to be pushed by his vigor, and we were caught by the bed as we fell back.

I lay there, dumbfounded, while Fikar continued to snuggle up to me like a cat that’d been given candy.

What was that cute and defenseless smile? And the sudden rubbing attack… well, that was the usual.

Maybe he was relaxed, or maybe he was too limp and heavy, or maybe he wasn’t sober. Whatever the case, he didn’t pull himself up and off of me, so I crawled around and put the covers over him. I couldn’t reach the table from the bed, so I settled for placing the wine bowl onto the nightstand.

By the time I looked back at him, Fikar was already asleep. I’d never seen him with such a defenseless sleeping face. His cheeks still held a tinge of red.

Perhaps, was he drunk?

Was it safe to drink so much wine?

I closed my eyes and forgot about the light I could no longer turn off, wondering if drunkenness came to different people at different times.

My exhaustion quickly turned to drowsiness, sweeping away the questions that had sprung up.

The wine, sweet and fruity, let a fluffy warmth flow into the core of my body.

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