“…Something other than eggs or a pouch of barley.”

Cedarwood handed the marble back to Lanen.

“As a birthday gift?”

Only then did Lanen remember that she had been playing a marble game with her manservant.

“Hmm… let me think.”

The girl stared at the board and considered.

Her manservant had claimed he couldn’t play games, and yet he had obliterated Lanen’s territory three rounds in a row. She aimed a marble at a hole she had her eye on.

“There’s plenty I want.”

Tick. For once, the marble slipped neatly into the hole she had aimed for. Lanen grinned and planted her flag there.

“First, Nathan Rockefeller coming down with a cold tomorrow so he can’t make it to arithmetic class. And getting to take the shooting lessons that only Reagan Rockefeller gets? Oh! And riding too! I want a cute little foal of my own.”

Conquered! The triumphant flag rattled Cedarwood’s once-quiet stronghold.

And so the girl went on, overturning his territory one square at a time, ticking off her wishes one by one.

The things the girl listed as things she wanted were as large as clouds and as extravagantly puffed up as soap bubbles. A dress with a lavish, full-skirted design. The peacock feather hat that the mistress of the Rockefellers wore only when she went to the theater. A squirrel that would do as it was told. The sort of things that, no matter how hard the boy tried to picture them, remained just beyond his grasp.

“But.”

At that moment, her voice came, tinged with the regret of someone whose exciting daydream had just come to an end.

“I’d be perfectly happy with just a lemon pie!”

Tick. he last marble she threw rolled far off course, missing the hole entirely. Because the girl had carelessly thrown away her final move, the game ended in the boy’s victory.

“…Is that so?”

“Yes. That’s all I need.”

The moment he heard those words, the boy became aware of just how little he had in this world.

***

On her birthday, the Rockefeller Manor was in quite an uproar. It was all on account of the Rockefeller family’s summer holiday.

“Load that onto that carriage over there. Quickly! Move along, we need to make the train.”

Lanen, the only Rockefeller who had not been invited, watched the people bustling about outside the window and wiggled her toes.

Since the master of the Manor was leaving for his holiday, the servants who remained behind were also given time off. As a result, this morning’s breakfast was nothing more than a bunch of grapes and a campagne loaf she had scrounged from the kitchen. A meager spread that was a stretch to call a birthday cake, even in the most optimistic of spirits.

‘Better to be alone at home than to spend every day feeling out of place over there. The Manor will be quiet, and there won’t be any of those dreadful etiquette lessons for a while.’

“And besides, I was planning to go pick cherries today anyway!”

The girl hopped down from the windowsill. Her brisk steps carried her straight to where the boy was.

“I’m sorry, my lady. I have to go out as well.”

Cedarwood said this while pulling his flat cap down over his head. Drip. Without any warning at all, tears began to run down the face of the girl who had been perfectly cheerful just moments before.

“Why? Where, where are you going….”

So this was what it felt like to be betrayed by someone you trusted. Lanen’s mouth, which had just been cheerfully declaring “I’m fine!” only moments ago, dropped straight down.

Cedarwood, looking quite flustered, wiped the girl’s face.

“I’m sorry, my lady. I wanted to avoid today of all days too, but I don’t get to choose the date.”

“The date?”

“I hadn’t originally intended to give you this as a birthday gift, but….”

Cedarwood adjusted his suspenders and pulled something from his back pocket.

“Just in case, please hold onto this.”

“What is this?”

It was a piece of paper, folded and creased from being opened and closed so many times.

It had better not be something trivial. I’ll kick you in the shin. Lanen stuck out her lower lip and unfolded the paper with a sullen air.

“Condolence Payment Certificate for Accidents

In the event of a life lost in an unfortunate accident during mining operations, this union shall pay one denas to the bereaved family as an expression of condolence.

— Senetipalachia Mine”

“What is this?”

“A birthday gift.”

“All funds are to be transferred to Lanen Rockefeller.”

It was a death insurance document in Cedarwood’s name.

⊹ ☼ ⊹

Some time after Lanen and Glen had left the Manor, the sun began to lean slowly against the mountain ridge, and crows called out in place of the mountain birds that had been singing cheerfully until just moments before. Around the time the soft blue light filtering through the glass windows began to turn yellow, Cedarwood opened his eyes.

Crimson sunlight stretched across the toes of his black shoes. He watched that light in silence for a long while, then straightened up from where he had been leaning against the chair.

“Oh, you’re up?”

Glen, who had parked the car boldly right at the Manor’s entrance, popped the last prune into his mouth and waved. Cedarwood quietly narrowed his brow.

“Why didn’t you leave?”

…Don’t tell me, my lady too? Cedarwood crossed the room in a single stride and checked inside the car. The person he was looking for was not there.

“You sent Lanen on alone?”

“Yes.”

Haa, Cedarwood let out a quiet sigh and raised his head.

Thud.

Glen, who had been leaning against the car, shut the door.

“The fact that you’re not surprised I have your car keys tells me this was all part of your plan too.”

The ring of keys in Glen’s hand flew toward Cedarwood. Jangle. It struck him in the chest, then clattered to the ground.

“You wanted us to get away cleanly?”

The keys left out unguarded, practically begging to be taken. The car tucked away somewhere you’d find it with just a little looking around. Snacks packed inside to pass the time on the road. A map with friendly little notes pointing out which paths to avoid.

Anyone with half a brain could see it by now. That he wanted them to escape safely.

“It doesn’t add up. You went out of your way to kidnap us, and now you’re just letting us go. No matter how I think about it, I can’t figure out why. It felt too wrong to just run like that.”

“……”

“So I didn’t go.”

Glen Raines could tell, even if he might not have in other circumstances, because the two of them had always worked well together. The Cedarwood Carlisle he knew was not someone who handled things this way. It was roundabout and inefficient. On top of that, the guy had always been the type to lead with his body before his head, pretty face and all.

“The person I know doesn’t waste time when he has a goal.”

Cedarwood Carlisle might kidnap someone or rough them up a little to get what he wanted, but crouching in a Manor, brooding over the past, and playing the role of ‘I’ll pretend not to notice while you make your escape’—that was about as far from his way of doing things as it was possible to get.

At first, Glen Raines had thought Cedarwood Carlisle was trying to make them feel helpless. Being caught after being given a chance to escape would be crushing. And then, naturally, neither of them would ever breathe a word about escaping or being let go again.

But then Glen had wondered, ‘Even if Cedarwood is a ruthless guy, would he really be that cruel to Lanen?’ And Lanen’s words came back to him.

“I think he wants to take revenge on me.”

No, that’s not it. Glen let the thought go without a second glance.

“Did you want to film a movie with your lady? Then you should’ve ridden in on a white horse. Why are you running around acting like a sulky villain? And another thing, you.”

Thump.

Glen knocked on the car.

“You went and got a nice car, and then you handed the driving off to me. The way this played out, I’m the one who rescued the little squirt and made the escape. The whole thing looks like some kind of elopement….”

“……”

“Hey… that’s not what this is, right?”

“Lanen trusts and relies on you.”

“Don’t say things that make my chest want to cave in.”

Glen smacked Cedarwood on the head. It made a satisfyingly solid sound, but Cedarwood simply smoothed his disheveled hair in silence.

“I suppose I brought you along too nicely. The fact that you’re still sitting here at this point just to satisfy one little curiosity says it all.”

Should’ve made sure at least one rib cracked instead of just kicking him in the backside back then. Cedarwood muttered. So it was you who kicked me in the backside that time. Glen let out a hollow laugh.

“If you already knew I wasn’t the type to do something like this, you should have just done as you were told. You don’t even know what I resolved to do before letting you go.”

Cedarwood muttered that and then pressed his lips shut with a stubborn finality.

Glen knew that silence wasn’t simply a search for excuses. Cedarwood was always the type to pause briefly while calculating how to explain his actions in a way that would leave the other person less appalled. So Glen didn’t push. The process was always a mess, but the intention was always clear.

For Lanen.

‘The squirt herself has no idea, though.’

“Lanen thinks you’re doing all this because you want revenge on her.”

“I know.”

“…Is the revenge thing real?”

“If you’re going to ask useless questions like that, spend the time thinking about what excuse you’re going to give Lanen. She’ll definitely think you abandoned her and ran off on your own.”

“Oh dear, you think so….”

It was nearly the time he had promised. The hour for him to go after her.

Cedarwood looked at the sun as it began to press against the ridge, and smiled faintly. The sight of the reddening sky brought to mind, just at that moment, the memory of Lanen’s swollen, scarlet eyelids from long ago. The day she had wept and wept after receiving the paper he had given her.

“What is this? What is this, tell me.”

Back then, Lanen had sobbed when she received the death insurance document. The girl who hadn’t cried even when a sheep had sent her flying a good three meters through the air. The girl who had only ground her teeth when the Rockefellers’ second son tripped her and she got a double nosebleed. The girl who had smiled brightly on a birthday no one celebrated, already looking forward to going out to pick nuts from the trees. That girl had wept and wept over nothing more than a name written on a piece of paper.

“I don’t need something like this!”

“…Is the amount too small? One denas is enough to buy three lemon pies.”

“That’s not what I mean!”

At the time, Cedarwood had frozen on the spot, unable to make sense of why she had suddenly burst into tears. He didn’t know the reason, but he could tell it was because of him. And since he was the cause, he couldn’t even bring himself to reach out and wipe her tears. The boy simply stared, blank-faced, at the girl’s eyes growing redder and hotter by the moment.

After heaving and shuddering for a long while, the girl thr*st the paper back at Cedarwood as though throwing it away.

“Who told you to go and do something like this on your own?”

“……”

“You’re my family. Never, never do something like this again without my permission.”

“My lady.”

“You matter more to me than some stupid lemon pie. Do you understand?”

It was only when he heard those words that the boy understood why she was crying. Because she cared. A life he had thought nothing of putting up as collateral. To her, it was that precious.

I matter. To my lady. More than three lemon pies.

Turning that over in his mind, something sharp seemed to rake across the inside of his chest. A vivid, unfamiliar ache. It was clearly pain, but it was so strange that he spent a long while pressing his hand to his chest, wondering if it really was.

Ah. It reminded him of something. The way your throat throbs with every dry swallow, right before a cold sets in.

Like a fever you had caught without realizing it, quietly making its presence known. Like a warning that you would soon fall gravely ill, so you had better prepare.

It hurt. The moment he recognized the hurt, the corners of his eyes began to sting. From watching the sniffling girl’s face for too long. Or perhaps because the hazy pollen drifting on the breeze had gotten into his eyes.

Only then was Cedarwood able to take the girl’s hand.

He dried her damp little hand against his palm, and cooled her feverish eyelids with the back of his hand. His eyes stung, and yet strangely, the corners of his mouth felt like they were tickling. The boy smiled faintly and answered.

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

So revenge. Him, against her? Was there anything more absurd in the world? He would sooner pray for every Rockefeller skull to crack open as many times as there were fir trees in this forest.

“Yes, you’re right. Just as you said. I wanted ‘Glen Raines’ to safely rescue ‘the kidnapped Rockefeller young lady’ and get her to safety.”

Cedarwood picked up the keys from the ground. He brushed off the dirt and set them back on the car without a second thought.

“Why?”

Glen spoke a beat later.

“Because I owe my life to my lady….”

Not a lie, but not the whole truth either.

She was the reason he had lived, but…

“I didn’t want my lady to treat me like a person.”

Because she had been, like this, the source of all his suffering.