21. How many handkerchiefs does he have in his jacket?
"Arwin?"
Arwin, who I didn't know when he arrived, was standing behind me. I tried to raise my seated body, but Arwin shook his head as if I didn't have to do that.
He sat quietly next to me. We ended up sitting side by side like that.
Arwin stared intently at a certain point in the canyon I had been looking at until just a moment ago. It was a familiar gaze, as if he had looked at it often. Then he offered an incoherent question.
"Do you know the canyon in that mountain?"
"Yes."
"A very old dragon lived there."
An old dragon. It was an unfamiliar word. Just like the word mage, it was a word distant from me. The fact that an old dragon lived in the deep canyon was also something I was hearing for the first time.
"I used to go around looking for the old dragon."
"Did you find it?"
"Yeah."
"So?"
"Iphoe Bell. You asked me if I had ever seen someone's death, right? The death I saw was the death of a very old dragon."
"Was it sad?"
I asked him the same question as back then. What was his answer back then? I think it was probably 'Well'.
However, the answer dropped this time was a different one. As if his heart had changed in just a few days.
"I don't know. But now, I'm a little sad."
Having said that much, Arwin twisted his gaze viewing the canyon and stared at me. Since I had been looking at his face from before, our eyes naturally met.
Arwin's black gaze. That gaze resembled the gaze I saw on the day we first met. That gaze which had messed up my heart immensely. That gaze still stirred my heart.
To the extent that it made my thought that facing Arwin would be scary feel meaningless, my heart fluttered for him.
"Did you cry?"
Arwin asked nonchalantly.
"...Yes."
I confessed the truth. I don't want to lie to him.
I thought the traces of tears had all disappeared, but my eyes must have still been red. I rubbed the corners of my eyes a few times for no reason. I didn't want to be caught crying.
"Did you kiss that mage?"
As expected, an incoherent question.
"...."
How did Arwin notice the fact that I kissed Dalton? I rubbed near my mouth for no reason too. As if trying to erase Dalton's traces left there.
As I only dawdled with my lips, Arwin added his words.
"I guess you are not strangers anymore."
"We are acquaintances who know each other a little."
Acquaintances who know each other a little. Arwin repeated my words.
"My heart... feels strange."
Arwin spoke slowly.
"Why?"
"It seems the screw is creaking."
He raised his white hand and tapped his chest area a few times. What happened to his screw that he said didn't fit?
Suddenly, the words he said at the masquerade ball came to mind.
'Iphoe Bell. What have you done to my screw?'
What have I done to your screw today?
I hoped it was something in a positive direction.
"Did that Princess also influence the Marquis's screw?"
Arwin shook his head.
"No."
"Then what about other people?"
He shook his head again.
"Besides you, not really."
Only I influenced your screw, so why do you intend to engage another woman?
"Congratulations on... your engagement."
It was a tone containing not a shred of sincerity.
"Is that sincere?"
"Very much. I want you to be happy."
"But why do you have a face like you're about to cry?"
"That is the Marquis seeing wrongly. I am smiling, see."
I barely distorted the corners of my mouth and tried to smile. But I couldn't be sure if that was a proper smile.
Arwin extended his hand, which he had placed on his chest, toward me a little, then withdrew it again. He looked like he was hesitating about something, unlike him.
"I don't love her."
"Pardon?"
"You asked. After you left like that, I really wanted to give you an answer."
He was again doing something that would make me misunderstand. He was speaking as if he worried about me. My heart was encroached by vain expectation.
He who told me not to wish for anything from him, why does he keep making me wish for something?
You probably don't know at all how greatly your such trivial actions approach me.
Wouldn't you not know even after I die?
"Engagement... can't you not do it?"
I asked, putting quite a bit of sincerity into it this time.
"Didn't you just say congratulations?"
"Because I am a contradictory person."
What will Arwin answer? Will he speak coldly again this time, telling me not to expect anything from him?
If I were to pick one fortunate point, it was that I had already developed immunity to those words. Even if I hear them again, I was confident I wouldn't shed tears.
Arwin parted his lips slowly.
"I'll...."
"...."
"Think about it once."
I'll think about it once. Coldness wasn't felt in his words. Rather, it was soft.
How should I accept his words that he will think about it? Can I accept it in a positive meaning?
"Can I expect?"
Arwin retorted nonchalantly.
"Expecting is your freedom. But I can't take responsibility for your expectation."
"Okay."
I don't wish that far. I smiled a faint smile.
Arwin suddenly made a sorrowful face for an unknown reason. I was curious why he came to have a sorrowful face.
"Are you sad?"
"I don't know well."
Arwin said so and moved his gaze which was on me. The destination of his gaze was the canyon where he said the old dragon lived.
Arwin who said he witnessed the old dragon dying. Then what is the reason he looked for the old dragon?
"Arwin."
I inadvertently called his name. I thought 'oops', but there was no reaction from Arwin.
Even if indifferent, one cannot be that indifferent. Therefore, I boldly asked what I was curious about.
"What is the reason you looked for the old dragon living in the canyon?"
Arwin's pretty lips began to open small. His lips drew a strange curve as if about to spit out language likely not to exist in the world.
I thought the language he sketched would surely be beautiful. Regardless of the meaning those words possess.
"The old dragon is...."
Arwin's words cut off there. Because a raindrop fell on his forehead. The raindrop flowed straight down riding Arwin's round forehead.
"Rain?"
At that moment, a raindrop flowed down on my forehead too. Rain that seems to come too often these days. Somehow, I had a thought that it wouldn't be just rain falling. I recalled the libertine.
"Let's go in."
Arwin glanced at the canyon side for the last time and then raised his seated body. Having stood up, he naturally took out a handkerchief from the left pocket of his jacket. And an unexpected thing happens.
Arwin placed his handkerchief on top of my head. As if trying to block the rain.
How can a handkerchief only the size of a palm block the rain... I laughed.
"Kukuku."
Was it because Arwin's words that giving a handkerchief is nothing much came to mind?
Arwin nonchalantly grabbed my hand and started walking toward the mansion. Looking at Arwin's broad back walking ahead, I suddenly think such a thought.
Just how many people did Arwin give the nothing-much handkerchief to?
The smile lingering faintly on my lips lifted. Doubt arose whether perhaps in the past, he had given handkerchiefs to someone again and again.
Just how many handkerchiefs are in his jacket?
Is it my excessive greed to wish for all his handkerchiefs to become mine from now on? Is it a hopeless wish?
The rainfall became stronger and stronger. To the extent it was unbelievable that it was clear until just a moment ago. Walking to the mansion, I looked toward where Dalton's room was.
Whether the lights were off, the inside was dark. Furthermore, thanks to the raindrops flowing down on the glass window, the inside was hardly visible.
Squinting my eyes as much as possible and focusing my gaze, I saw something twinkling inside. It seemed to be Dalton's shiny blond hair.
Dalton. Was he standing by the window secretly watching our figures? Does this rain really have nothing to do with Dalton?
Looking up at the sky, strangely, dark clouds were full only around the mansion. Those dark clouds were circling only Arwin's mansion as if trying to prevent our story from progressing further.
When we entered the mansion and I parted with Arwin, surprisingly, the rain stopped.
The sky seen through the large window of the hallway had returned to a blue color in no time. I wanted to consider it a sporadic shower, but as expected, suspicion went to Dalton.
I tightly gripped the handkerchief full of moisture with my hand. Heated raindrops fell drip-drop between my fingers. It was then that an excited man's voice was heard.
"Wow, is that Arwin's handkerchief?"
I stared in the direction where the sound came from with eyes full of suspicion. I saw him walking from the hallway not so far away.
"Is it a handkerchief signifying the progress of the relationship? I'm proud."
Having approached close before I knew it, he looked at the handkerchief held in my hand with interest.
His eyes looked like the eyes of a predator discovering prey. A predator that discovers the opponent's weak part and bites that part mercilessly.
"Don't put vain hope in me."
I said, stuffing the wet handkerchief into my bosom. Although my chest area became damp, I didn't like Dalton looking at the handkerchief with interest.
"It's the first time seeing Arwin give as many as three handkerchiefs to someone."
"Isn't that because you aren't that close with Arwin?"
"Oho, is this estrangement?"
Dalton giggled small. Ignoring his words, I asked what I wanted to ask.
"The shower. You made it fall, right?"
Dalton answered quite readily.
"I can't say no."
As expected, the cause of the sporadic rainfall was him. Then I became curious what Dalton's true intention might be.
Dalton, who said he cheered for my love, had created time with Arwin ostensibly. For such a him to suddenly break up our meeting, somehow the flow didn't match. Clearly.
I tried guessing quietly.
If Dalton twisted his flow because there was a problem with the flow of the conversation Arwin and I shared. If that's why he interrupted me and Arwin out of the blue.
It must be certain that the problem lies in the flow of conversation Arwin and I shared. I was convinced. It was a strange conviction without basis.
Of course, I couldn't know how he, who was in his room, eavesdropped on our conversation. But he was an Archmage who calls back forgotten seasons. Eavesdropping on someone's conversation would be something he could do even with his eyes closed.
Then what was the flow of the story he didn't like? The topic he cheers for my love but wishes I wouldn't discuss with Arwin.
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