SPRFG 88

Chapter 88

The Republican and the Princess (12)

The child’s hair was flying in all directions. Someone had probably carefully brushed it and tied it with a ribbon, but after burying her face against her father’s neck several times, it had become completely messy. Mors tried to brush the hair away from his daughter’s forehead, but because it was so curly, it kept falling back over her eyes.

She wore an apron neatly made by stitching together pieces of leftover fabric and unstarched cloth. She looked like a little girl who had stepped right out of an illustration in a fairy-tale book.

Still in her father’s arms, the child looked down at Jouaye. Then, suddenly, she reached out and began stroking her hair.

“Is your hair pink, big sister?”

“Yes. Is it interesting? Is this your first time seeing someone with pink hair? Well, I heard it’s pretty rare.”

“Can I touch it?”

“You’re already touching it.”

Jouaye smiled again.

The girl slowly touched the top of Jouaye’s head as if she were petting a puppy or a cat. When the small, soft hand felt pleasant enough to make Jouaye close her eyes, Fillord lowered himself to the child’s eye level and spoke.

“Hello, Espella. We met before, didn’t we?”

“Who are you, mister?”

Apparently, seeing him a few times was not enough for him to remain in the child’s memory.

Fillord had thought that he had become quite close to the girl, but realizing that he had been mistaken, he made a wounded expression.

Mors smiled awkwardly.

Jouaye could not hold back her laughter at the fact that Fillord was a “mister” while she was a “big sister.”

Uajorbelle seemed to be pressing his lips tightly together, but his eyes were laughing. In the end, he let out a small snort and covered his face with his book. His shoulders were shaking.

“You can just call me Fillord instead of mister. That’s fine.”

“He’s not a mister. He’s Uncle Fillord, Espella. He’s Daddy’s friend. Don’t you remember?”

Fillord and Mors spoke at the same time, then awkwardly closed their mouths.

In that moment, Espella, who had been looking around the room, noticed Uajorbelle sitting in the corner and was startled.

But she did not try to call him.

Suddenly, as if she had become shy, the child spoke in a tiny voice.

“I-I want to get down, Daddy…”

Then she hid behind her father’s legs.

Jouaye looked back and forth between Espella and Uajorbelle, then let out a deep sigh.

Her guess had been right.

Without even realizing it, that boy had become the little lady’s first love.

Fillord pulled out a chair and sat down, while Mors repeatedly wondered why his daughter had suddenly become like this and gently stroked her hair.

Jouaye looked at the girl and asked in the kindest voice she could.

“Have you seen that big brother before?”

The child nodded.

“Do you know his name? Did you say hello to him?”

She nodded again.

Fillord shrugged with an aggrieved look.

He thought he had treated her more kindly, yet that indifferent, cold guy had left such a deep impression on her that he was a “big brother,” while Fillord was a “mister” whose name she could not even remember.

While Jouaye was wondering whether she should bring Uajorbelle over and make him greet the girl one more time, Mors spoke in a deliberately serious tone.

“Espella, what did Daddy tell you to do when we have guests at home?”

“To go upstairs to my room and stay there…”

“Not that. What do you do when Daddy and Mommy’s friends come?”

“Greet them properly…?”

The child’s face suddenly brightened.

It was as if she had been asked to do something she loved very much.

As though she had never been shy, the girl hurried toward the stairs.

She stopped in the open space between the first and second floors as if it were a stage. Then, as though she had learned it somewhere, she elegantly stepped one foot back and bowed.

“Hello!”

Jouaye clapped.

Fillord laughed too.

The child looked proud of herself, then ran back down the stairs and into her father’s arms.

How precious was the sight of a child who never doubted that she deserved to be loved?

Mors skillfully tied up his daughter’s messy hair again.

Fillord said,

“Espella seems to have grown a lot. I don’t think you can even pick her up easily anymore…? As she grows, she’s looking more and more like you, Dad.”

“She is at that age when children grow quickly. If you’re jealous, have one yourself.”

“What? Me? How am I supposed to have a child?”

“Good grief. Was that a joke?”

Mors looked genuinely bewildered and glanced at Jouaye as if asking her to agree with him.

But she was looking somewhere else.

Seeing the child looking around for a mirror, Jouaye said,

“So, our little princess’s name is Espella.”

This time, Mors, Fillord, and Uajorbelle all added their own comments.

“I am, after all, a republican who publishes a newspaper for rebels, and you’re calling my only daughter a princess. That’s a bit much.”

“Comrade, if someone says something with the intention of complimenting you, please take it as a compliment. Don’t become unnecessarily serious and ruin the mood.”

“…And yet I can confidently say that you, my brother, are the one among the three of us who is the worst at reading the mood.”

Jouaye shook her head and clicked her tongue.

Just then, Espella came back after looking in the mirror. She looked around at everyone and asked,

“Can a re-pub-li-can become a princess?”

The moment they heard her carefully pronounced words, all three of them felt as if they had suddenly been given a divine mission and had become prophets.

Without waiting for anyone else, they all began speaking.

“Ah, no. No, Espella. I promise you! You can become anything you want.”

“Th-That’s right. So you don’t have to make such a serious face. Whether you want to be a princess or a republican, it’s up to you.”

“You heard Big Sister and Mister, right? Now, shall we eat first? Our little republican princess.”

“I’m glad!”

The child smiled brightly.

Uajorbelle looked as though he was about to say something, but Jouaye made a zipping motion across her mouth.

He had never seen a zipper before, so he did not know exactly what the gesture meant, but he roughly understood that she was telling him to keep quiet.

Just then, Espella asked the very question Jouaye had found difficult to ask.

“But what’s for lunch today?”

“Well, didn’t your mother say anything? Why don’t you go ask her? And tell her that since we have guests, it would be good to bring two more chairs from the bedroom.”

The tied-up hair on Espella’s head bounced every time she nodded.

Jouaye did not miss the opportunity and stood up.

“Then I’ll help too. I came here suddenly, so I’d feel bad if I just ate your food without doing anything…”

“Oh dear, guests are supposed to just sit and relax…”

The doctor smiled apologetically, but he did not strongly try to stop her.

Jouaye understood why.

She had spent quite a lot of time laughing with Espella.

There must have been a reason why Uajorbelle and Fillord had come to this house, and that reason was surely tangled up with complicated truths that would be better off without her knowing.

She had already been looking for an excuse to leave them alone.

Jouaye realized how close she had come to thinking of Fillord as a friend, and the realization surprised her.

Because he was her lover, she had believed that she knew everything about Fillord and had been certain that she was the person closest to him.

That was not entirely wrong.

But the love between lovers and the friendship between comrades were different things.

Fillord was not merely a man who existed as her lover. He was also a great mage, a revolutionary, and a friend to these people.

The way he looked at her was filled with warm love.

But whenever he looked at these people, his eyes carried a firm determination.

She would never be able to understand what kind of comradeship bound these people together.

It was a little disappointing, but she had to accept that fact and take a step back.

“Espella, where’s the kitchen?”

“On the second floor…”

“Fillord’s house has the kitchen in the basement, but your house has it on the second floor?”

“Yes. Mommy said she likes it better that way. She said it has good ventilation.”

Jouaye continued talking to the child.

The girl called for her mother and bounded up the stairs, and Jouaye followed while holding up her skirt.

As the sound of their footsteps faded away, the room suddenly became so quiet that it was hard to believe that they had just been laughing and talking.

Perhaps his shoulder had become stiff from holding his child for so long, because Mors stretched himself.

The three men looked at one another.

“Phew…”

The friendly smile disappeared completely from the doctor’s face.

He put the chair the child had left behind back in its proper place.

Uajorbelle closed the book he had been reading and approached the other two.

Fillord and Mors sat down on the old sofa.

Uajorbelle looked around, then dragged over a stool and sat close to them.

It was so that he could lower his voice.

“First, regarding the recent movements of the Imperial Army…”

Mors cut him off.

“Wait a moment. Let’s catch our breath.”

Then, while still seated, he turned around, reached out, and opened the window.

The still-cold breeze felt refreshing.

It entered through his nose and filled his lungs, bringing spring into his entire body, before becoming a single breath and leaving him again.

If that did not stir one’s heart, one might as well be a piece of wood instead of a human being.

Fillord’s head felt dizzy from laughing so much.

He leaned back against the sofa and looked at the ceiling.

Mors took a pipe from his inner pocket and lit it.

He puffed a cloud of smoke toward the window.

From upstairs came the loud sound of a child running around.

At that moment, that was the only sound that could be heard in the room.

The child’s laughter.

The low murmur of Jouaye’s voice.

Mors smiled.

All three of them were originally from the former Kingdom of Dolcheardor, but the island region where Mors had been born and raised used a dialect completely different from the mainland.

So they had no choice but to communicate in the Imperial language.

“Doesn’t your wife tell you to quit smoking?”

“She does. A lot. But I’ve cut down quite a bit already. What, are you going to nag me too? Let’s just stay like this for a moment.”

Fillord tilted his head back toward the ceiling again and closed his eyes.

At that moment, he was neither the Great Mage nor the revolutionary, but simply a person.

And his comrade was neither the father adored by his seven-year-old daughter nor the rebel who ran a secret printing press in the basement producing propaganda.

For a moment, he was simply a smoker.

Of course, Uajorbelle never once entertained the thought that he was anything other than a revolutionary.

He clasped his hands together and looked at the other two with boredom.

Mors glanced down at him and gave a crooked smile.

“You really are cold-hearted. What is it that you’re always so dissatisfied with?”

“What? Why are you suddenly picking a fight with me?”

“That’s exactly what I mean! It would be nice if you could just take a joke and joke back instead of being so stiff. Do you know how much our Espella likes you? She kept pestering me, asking why that big brother wasn’t coming and when he would come again. I was completely worn out.”

“That can’t be. She didn’t even acknowledge me earlier.”

“Oh, come on. At least pat her on the head once before you leave. She’ll probably talk about you nonstop for another three months and ten days.”

“I doubt it. After perhaps one season, she’ll probably forget that someone like me ever existed. Isn’t that simply how people are? People forget people.”

Uajorbelle spoke casually while looking at the distant sky.

What? Is this comrade seriously acting as if it means nothing to him that my only daughter favors him?

While Mors deliberately let out one exaggerated sigh after another, Fillord looked back and forth between their profiles.

“Yes, perhaps that’s true.”

He blew another cloud of smoke toward the window.

Mors sighed and spoke in a distinctly different voice.

“Then let’s do our best to make sure we are remembered by history.”

The ceiling suddenly shook with a loud bang.

The child was running around again.

“All right. Now we can get to the main subject. The Imperial Army…”