Chapter 271 |
TL: TangSanFan
ED/PR: Tanthus
『Side Story』 The Balance Scale (12)
“Lortelle.”
It felt like roughly 10 minutes had passed in silence as I waited.
Across the bed, Lortelle, wrapped in a blanket, occasionally twisted her body like a freshly caught live fish.
Each time she tried to recollect her memories, she’d contort as if shocked by electrodes, a sensation I could imagine all too well, causing me to tightly shut my eyes.
“I’ll fetch another glass of cold water…”
The cold water I had fetched earlier was already downed in big gulps by me. I, too, was thirsty.
“Um… about the clothes I mentioned earlier…”
“Yes?”
“It’s a bit late, but could you prepare a set of women’s clothing in a suitable size? I will pay for it.”
When I asked the inn’s staffer, they briefly stared into space before nodding sharply.
What on earth was happening in the room that Lortelle and I shared that perfectly good clothes had become torn up, necessitating a need for new ones?
From the young female staffer’s perspective, one could only imagine the various scenarios unfolding, leaving me feeling somewhat embarrassingly awkward.
“Alright… I’ll prepare something of a… similar size to mine…”
With this somewhat awkward exchange with the staffer over, I returned to the room to find Lortelle somewhat more composed, sitting on the bed.
Those who have only seen Lortelle in her usual commanding presence as a guild leader might burst into laughter upon seeing her current state.
Her unkempt reddish-brown hair still maintained its fiery color, even amidst the interplay of shadows and moonlight.
However, the usually confident and radiant eyes were now fixated on the ground, tightly clutching the blanket.
Her reddened face looked as if it might explode with heat at any moment, so I quickly poured and offered her the cold water.
Lortelle gulped down the water with surprising vigour, then sighed deeply, regaining her composure.
And after a delay of about three seconds, she cradled her face and pressed her head against the wall.
Thoughts of after Slog’s curse hit—her darling behavior, and adorable actions in the Rothtaylor domain. She would innocently rub her face against Lucy or cling to Yenika’s clothes, showering her with admiring glances.
The memory of her pleading in a high-pitched voice for head pats, and even the knowledge that I had seen all of her secret notes…
She must feel like biting her tongue right now.
“So… Slog Keldrux was…”
After about 30 minutes of continued verbal tussle, Lortelle finally nodded, able to speak in her adult tone once more.
I explained everything that happened while Lortelle was incapacitated—all the details of the chaos Slog Keldrux had wrought.
Now, the only person who could grasp the vast enterprise of Elte Commerce was Lortelle Keheln.
With the backing of the Rothtaylor Ducal House, and even further, the Clorel Imperial Royal Family, and the Holy City of Klowelon.
She had become the rightful ruler of this commercial city’s underworld—a status one could rightfully claim.
Yet, Lortelle Keheln showed no sign of joy or relief, simply bowing her head in complex thought amidst her tight wrapping in the blanket.
“…”
“You don’t seem happy about it.”
“I just… can’t seem to organize my feelings right now… I’m usually not the type to be indecisive over such matters, but perhaps the curse’s influence lingers a bit…”
Lortelle hugged the blanket tighter around herself as she wrapped her arms around her shoulders.
A stark contrast to her usual appearance bedecked in costly clothes and jewels, now she was clad in nothing but a thin sheet.
Before she is a merchant, she is a person.
Stripped of her adornments, even Lortelle, often referred to as a devil who sold her soul for gold, is revealed to be nothing but an ordinary human, just like everyone else.
“I can understand that you’d have mixed feelings.”
“I don’t know. Honestly, it’s not a situation that requires much complicated thought. But uh…”
It was then that Lortelle finally seemed to regain a glimpse of her usual self, a shy smile gracing her face.
“I was wondering if showing such a weak and hesitant side of me might trigger your protective instincts.”
With a sly smile, she played the fox as always.
Faced with that, I could have returned a resigned smile…
But I chose not to.
“…”
“Perhaps the thought that I can simply shrug it off like this was too complacent of me?”
“It’s better to just say it’s tough when it’s tough. From experience.”
Considering Lortelle’s life, it’s not easy to open up so simply.
The city is replete with beasts drooling to exploit her vulnerabilities. To show weakness is to cannibalize oneself.
That’s why Lortelle had developed a habit of hiding her own weaknesses.
From her chaotic and disoriented desire to wander lost in uncertainty to adopting the tactful guise of a clever fox—her life story is not difficult to discern through her actions.
“It’s more that I’m… scared, actually.”
Sitting on the bed wrapped in a blanket, she ran her fingers over her bare feet peeking out.
Looking up at the soft light streaming in from the window, the moon hung on the tip of her eyelashes.
It’s just the two of us here.
Seeing us past our disguises, Lortelle shows her vulnerability without reservations.
“Surviving in this Oldec is like thrashing about in fog. I don’t know where I am, and without clear friend or foe, I must be wary of every sound.”
Her voice softens as she bows her head, her figure resembling a delicate glass artifact on the verge of breaking.
“As I wander, weapon in hand, there are countless times I’ve cut down those who could have been my own people. Slog is no exception to that.”
“…”
“It’s happened quite often. Before I met you, senior.”
The expression I saw on the face of the bleeding Slog was one of ‘detachment.’
No matter what, Lortelle would never trust Slog.
She is a girl who has survived the betrayal and collusion of this life-draining city for her whole life. Slog unequivocally understood that.
“It’s quite foolish, isn’t it? Spurning and shoving everything away, only to be consumed by loneliness in the end.”
A self-mocking Lortelle is a rare sight, given her need to remain unshaken at all times.
“But it couldn’t be helped. I had to survive.”
Slog was likely not her first.
Lortelle had walked a path paved with gold, severing the potential for true companionship or friendship with countless others whom she had cut down herself.
Understandably, this isn’t unique to Lortelle alone.
In the city of merchants, it’s probably the norm.
One wrong move can spill blood. Such is the world of commerce.
“In this city, no amount of effort can help you escape from loneliness and taxes.”
She jokes as she clasps her knees to her chest, but an underlying bitterness taints the hollow laughter in her voice.
It is night. Dawn is still far away.
The long, dark night feels especially prolonged for Lortelle today.
Despite having lost many along the way, there is never getting accustomed to the sense of loss and solitude. That’s simply the nature of humans.
Therefore, Lortelle buries her face in her knees. How much longer she has to bury people like Slog in the ground as she continues her journey—she can’t know right now.
“Senior.”
With just that brief title, I could feel it.
Lortelle, who has let go of so much, is still able to convey deep feelings with a single breath at the end of her words.
Far removed from her mischievous fox-like teasing and sometimes wistful laughter, she is different now.
Lortelle, burying her face, is invisible. Only her hair cascades aimlessly over her neck.
There is a significant difference between the Lortelle of the past and the one now. Currently, the difference is that someone is by her side.
“Would you give me a hug, just once?”
Her voice was as faint as a distant lighthouse beacon.
She tries to lift the tone of her speech, yet a subtle tension lingers at the tail of her constrained voice.
It feels like she might joke about it any moment, bursting into laughter—but a second passes, then five, and Lortelle doesn’t flee to the retreat of ‘it was just a joke.’
She simply remains, quietly burying her head amidst the gentle silence.
There is a surprisingly straightforward remedy for that chronic disease known as loneliness that stubbornly clings to life: the real sense that someone is there beside you.
The reassurance that you don’t have to curl up alone through the long, dark night anymore.
Perhaps that is precisely what Lortelle craves the most right now.
People seek someone they can lean on emotionally during their toughest times.
Therefore, I couldn’t take Lortelle’s reluctance to gloss over her request as a joke lightly.
Her precarious demeanor is like a candle flickering on the verge of being snuffed out.
“Sorry, but I can’t do that.”
And if you ask if I could leave Lortelle behind and step out of the room…
I can only respond with a retort: ‘How could that be possible?’
However, the part of my heart that clings and drags on to the very end… is undoubtedly Yenika.
Wrapping my arm around Yenika’s shoulder, uttering the world’s most romantic line that now, in hindsight, makes me grit my teeth…
To wrap my arm around Lortelle in such a moment is… unquestionably the act of scum.
… Am I prepared to become scum?
The profound meaning of Merilda’s playful expression whispered into my ear sinks deep into my heart.
If I’m not prepared to become scum, then I must ready myself to walk the opposite path.
I nod to the alarmingly fragile Lortelle that she might crumble at any moment and prepare to quietly leave the room.
To blend silently into the crowd roving the night streets, leaving Lortelle alone in this dark inn’s room.
… This decision is not an easy one.
I’m cornered, like being slowly choked. It feels as if someone is forcing me to choose one of two resolute paths at knife-point.
My mind whirls, accelerating thoughts.
At this juncture, just the act of ‘contemplating’ could hurt the other party.
Therefore, the time allowed for my contemplation might as well be a mere two or three seconds.
In the tiny flutter of a moment, I must come to a conclusion, as the situation is illogical to the extreme. I held my breath and looked toward Lortelle.
Her neck flushed red.
Even the back of her ears bloomed with a flushed color, as if ready to burst at any moment. Thankfully, in her perturbed state, she lacks the opportunity to scrutinize my reaction.
Regaining my composure a bit after witnessing her state, I realize that my way of thinking was initially wrong.
What’s important isn’t whether I become scum.
Thinking selfishly about how to respond to Lortelle, who has mustered whatever courage she can, is not manners toward her.
The crux is, what really matters is my own thoughts.
Not external appearances or morality, but whether I genuinely consider Lortelle a desirable partner in my mind is what should be deliberated upon.
By anyone’s estimation, Lortelle is a wonderful woman.
Not simply for her beautiful appearance or her tremendous wealth.
She is insightful and open-minded. Yet, she has a fragile side that seems to crumble if not supported. She may act utterly selfish, but once convinced you are ‘her person,’ she would give everything, scaling gap being part of her charm.
Nevertheless, she is indeed a reliable companion to have by my side.
I cannot deny that.
I consider the woman named Lortelle to be an incredibly attractive member of the opposite sex, and this I cannot refute.
The days of struggling daily for survival have come to an end.
Settled into a stable routine, I am newly aware of the weight of her sincerity when she extends kindness.
I have always stepped back. Yet despite this, I recall the times Lortelle has unswervingly shown me favor.
I first met her in Sylvania and we weathered various trials together.
Though several life-threatening crises occurred, she always aided me consistently and, without changing her feelings, walked beside me.
Having sorted out my thoughts thus far, the conclusion becomes clear.
I can never leave Lortelle.
“….”
I stroke my face as if washing it, then sweep back my bangs, exhaling deeply.
I rise from my seat and move toward the window.
– Swish, swish.
The comforting sound of the night sea’s waves and the gentle breeze.
For a while, I silently gaze out at the night view before quietly calling out Lortelle’s name.
“Lortelle.”
“Gah!”
“…”
Startled by the sudden call, Lortelle trembles and makes a strange noise. It’s as if she took a punch to the gut with just her name being called.
Embarrassed by such a reaction, she cannot reply immediately. It’s pitiful to watch.
Asking Lortelle anything more now feels too cruel, so I silently turn back.
Approaching her cautiously, I sit beside her and wrap my arm around her shoulder.
“Se, senior…”
I can hear her heart thumping.
It seems excessive for me to be this nervous. But upon closer listening, I realize it’s not my heart that’s beating.
“…”
The pounding becomes embarrassingly loud, and despite Lortelle trying to breathe deeply, the sound doesn’t stop.
That is entirely understandable. I gently cradle her chin, directing her toward me, and brush my lips against hers.
With my other hand, I support her small back and slowly shift our weights towards the bed.
Enthralled as if by a ghost, Lortelle looks up at me from the plush bed’s embrace.
“Relax your hands.”
Following my prompt, Lortelle seems to realize she’s been gripping my arms tightly.
She eases her grip, leaving marks on my wrists. A clear sign of nervous restraint.
“Uh, Ed Senior… I… um… what should I do…”
The confusion in her voice was understandable if she was inexperienced. But to instruct her step-by-step would also be absurd.
“Just stay still. I didn’t intend it, but… I know roughly what you want…”
“Ye-Yes… um… yes…?”
“…”
Lortelle is a sharp individual.
Even from the tone of my voice, she seems to capture something, taking a shallow breath.
“……”
Then realizes.
I had perused Lortelle’s guidebook to the end, the one she always carried. It was a necessary action at that time, due to our need for information.
So… it was inevitable that I stumbled upon things unintended.
Perhaps she was temporarily oblivious to the last page of the notebook, where she had poured in her thoughts. More of a collection of her daydreams than mere notes, it must be quite embarrassing to an outsider.
Some might laugh carelessly at it. But it’s not something to scoff at lightly. Surely these adolescent daydreams and romantic fantasies about the opposite sex are things everyone has imagined at least once, though they are too embarrassing to voice.
Therefore, I chose not to mention those notes to Lortelle out of consideration. But now that the situation has come to this, there is no better instructional material than those personal wishes she penned.
… Details like how earlobes and the back of the neck should be touched… well, maybe that was a bit much to handle.
– Thump!
Lortelle suddenly rises, pushing the bed and retreating back.
Stark naked, she presses against the bed’s headboard, shivering. It seems she’s just remembered the devastating contents she penned in that old journal.
“… Ed, Ed, Ed, Ed Senior… to what extent did you…”
“Don’t panic… Lortelle… in such a situation, the fact that we’re sharing intimate fancies and thoughts is actually a positive thing…”
I try my best to stay calm, to show it’s no big deal so she might keep her composure.
“Then… then…”
“However… Lortelle. Even so… I can’t prepare things like the bath with frangipani-scented candles and rose petals that you might be thinking of…”
“Gah!”
She swallows her screams in a grotesque fashion.
She pulls the blanket up to her chin, gasping for air – a pitiful sight, but it seems she still hangs onto her sanity.
“Also… Lortelle…”
“…”
“I’m sorry, but… I can’t… spout those romantic metaphors you’ve imagined, drawing comparisons to flowers or the stars’ twinkle in one’s eyes… that’s something I’m somewhat regretful about…”
“………………………………………….”
In other words, I cannot effortlessly deliver the lines you’ve dreamed of in your notes.
The Ed of Lortelle’s daydreams might manage such sweet nothings well, but unfortunately, the real Ed Rothtaylor lacks such linguistic prowess…
It might be worth a try, but upon further thought, it would only doubly kill Lortelle.
“……………”
“…………. Ed Senior…”
“…”
“……… Please… kill me….”
… Unfortunately, that is difficult.
In this tempest-filled world…
After all, the struggle is to stay alive, isn’t it…?