Unsurprisingly, the twins volunteered to name the kittens.

Nor was it surprising that they proudly declared that Seren would have first choice.

Aillen was about to say that there was no need to take it so seriously, but stopped when Seren unexpectedly — or perhaps not so unexpectedly — fell into deep thought.

Aillen herself had hardly done any work, yet she already felt drained. She slumped in a corner of the dining hall like a discarded towel. She hadn’t slept a wink.

She decided it was time to reconsider her initial impression of the northern guest. The dramatic display the night before had been nothing more than a momentary indulgence; she had been carried away by the atmosphere.

Since leaving the long winters of the north behind, Aillen had genuinely tried to behave properly. In fact, if she were honest, it hadn’t required much effort at all. There had simply been nothing here to unsettle her.

This was why the events of the previous evening had washed over her, evoking an unfamiliar yet strangely familiar feeling. What on earth had Seren done to her, preventing her from sleeping afterwards?

Perhaps—yes. Seren had done nothing at all.

Other than wearing the trousers that Aillen had chosen for her. Helping her to tend to the kittens? And singing a verse when asked.

That was all.

Even now, she was guilty of nothing more than looking effortlessly graceful in loose trousers and a short-sleeved shirt.

“Hmm. Since we found them in the attic, how about naming the spotted ones Attic, and the white-furred ones Walnut?”

“Pardon…?”

“Uh…”

“If that was a joke just now, it was amusing.”

The comment forced Aillen back from her thoughts. Seren raised a brow as if nothing were wrong. Aillen’s lips parted on their own.

“As for the rest, perhaps it would be best if others named them.”

“Wait—Walnut is because they climbed in through the walnut tree, isn’t it?”

“What else could it be?”

“Good heavens…”

Riman looked as though he were about to cry.

“N-No! Sister, rejected. We’ll—just—we’ll name them ourselves! The kittens deserve names with a bit more dignity!”

Heila shuddered visibly at Seren’s devastating talent for naming things. Fearing what might come next, she grabbed Riman and hurried out of the dining hall.

The dining room was quiet for almost an hour. For the younger siblings, who were distracted by kittens, this was fortunate.

“Was it truly that dreadful?”

“Hmm. For the sake of our friendship, I’ll refrain from saying more.”

She did not know what she had said wrong, yet Seren stared at her intently. Even when Aillen blinked rapidly, Seren’s eyelids did not so much as flicker.

“It’s nice to see things lively again. Just as I thought—the young lady who used to grab a spoon and sing in the dining hall every evening hasn’t gone anywhere.”

“E-Excuse me? Auntie Badlen, when did I ever—!”

“Oh? Why, just a month ago. With that many witnesses, are you planning to deny it?”

“I did sing, but—why are we suddenly talking about that?”

“Shall I also mention how you changed ‘The Girl in the Blue Hat’ into ‘The Man in the Blue Hat’?”

“I’m curious.”

“Don’t encourage them!”

“Uncle Basen, why are you getting involved too?”

Aillen’s sharp protest was met with laughter from the villagers seated around the table.

Even Seren let out a soft, lilting laugh — light and melodic, almost like music. Aillen shot an annoyed glance at the sway of that dark hair, but she couldn’t deny that the sound was pleasant.

“That’s right, Aillen. Since you’re in such high spirits, why don’t you go and check on your aunt? I’d wager she’s run out of jam again and is shut up inside working because she can’t be bothered to come out.”

Wiping her hands on her apron, her mother held out a basket towards her.

Aillen puffed out her lips in protest.

“I have plenty to do.”

“Tell Haila to help. If we send her on an errand, she’ll shake everything inside that basket to pieces. And you know Riman’s busy helping in the kitchen.”

Aillen sighed.

Someone at one of the tables began to hum ‘The Girl in the Blue Hat’—just as she had once parodied it on a day that now felt impossibly distant. Seren wore an amused expression.

Unfazed by the surrounding merriment, her mother shook the basket as if urging her to take it at once.

“I’m telling you to go get some fresh air. Adina will want to see you, too.”

She didn’t dislike running errands. What bothered her was the way everyone was teasing her.

And in front of Seren, of all people!

Ultimately, Aillen accepted the basket, as though she had no choice.

“I’ve been meaning to see her as well.”

“Good. You’ll walk, won’t you?”

“If I don’t want the jam jar to break.”

“Be more careful of the liquor bottle than the jam.”

“Oh—then, Mother, Seren said she would like to extend her stay. Could you help her with that?”

Her blue-grey eyes blinked as though she had just remembered something. This expression made the brief flicker of dissatisfaction disappear at once.

“I suppose I should be grateful that I have a good memory. Otherwise, I would have told you to leave the moment your time was up.”

“I hardly know how to thank you for such consideration.”

Her face was so solemn that it was impossible to tell whether she was joking or being sincere, but Aillen could sense a faint hint of laughter beneath the surface.

“Then, guest, this way.”

“Yes. Ah, Aillen.”

She had been about to walk out with the basket when she felt a low voice at the nape of her neck, which turned her around. Seren gestured for her to wait a moment, before swiftly going to the counter and returning.

“What is it?”

“Let’s go together.”

“Pardon?”

“To get some air. Together.”

Before she could answer, Seren opened the door for her. The astonishingly courteous way in which she stepped aside and held the door open made Aillen laugh out loud.

***

“Your aunt must live quite far away.”

“Not far, exactly. Just… in an awkward spot. On the edge of the forest, a bit removed from the town center and the inn.”

“She’s a carpenter, my aunt.”

As she spoke, Aillen absently nudged a white pebble with the tip of her shoe. The basket of bottles was heavier than she had expected.

“You seem close to her.”

“I suppose so. She’s fun, and we get along well… When I was little, Miriam and the others and I used to play in the forest a lot. She even built us a hideout where we could sneak in and play.”

The memory of childhood drew a smile to her lips.

“With a red roof. I liked school quite a bit, so I insisted the roof had to be painted red.”

“A red roof?”

The hint of surprise in Seren’s voice suggested that she was trying to grasp the connection between a red roof and a school. Aillen looked up at her. The sunlight filtering through the leaves was too bright, and Seren’s brows were faintly drawn together.

“Ah… Don’t tell me the schools in the North don’t have red roofs?”

“Hmm.”

Seren did not ponder long.

“At least the school I attended had a brown roof.”

“That’s a lie! Not just our school—even in novels, schools always have red roofs!”

“Then perhaps the authors have never been to the North.”

Aillen looked utterly betrayed. Yet she soon seemed to concede the point, her voice taking on a sulky tone.

“Well, the north always looks as though all its colors have been drained away. So I suppose it wouldn’t be surprising if the roofs were like that, too.”

She had never thought of her homeland in such terms before, but it was an apt comparison nonetheless. Seren let out a quiet laugh.

“You speak as though you’ve seen it yourself.”

Something in that teasing remark made Aillen stiffen for a fleeting moment.

“Aillen?”

“That’s impossible. I only meant it seems like it would be that way.”

She hurriedly glossed over her words and fell silent.

There was a faint dissonance in her tone and manner, but it soon dissolved, scattered helplessly by her scent on the wind. Almost without thinking, Seren murmured.

“The train should have been invented sooner. If it had been, Aillen would have…”

She stopped.

Aillen had suddenly stopped in her tracks. She put down the basket and crept up to Seren before she could ask her what she was doing.

In the blink of an eye, something soft landed on Seren’s head. When Seren reached up in confusion, her fingers found the brim of a hat.

It was the straw hat that Aillen had been wearing.

“You looked like the sun was bothering you.”

Her green eyes shone with quiet brilliance, like a forest bathed in the afternoon sun. Her soft, drifting laughter fluttered through the air like a bird’s wings. Somewhere nearby, real birds sang in answer.

Even when she blinked slowly, Aillen remained standing there. She was not a mischievous fairy from a story who would vanish the moment their eyes met.

And yet, that was exactly how it felt.

The walk to her aunt’s house did not take long. Or perhaps it only seemed that way. After all, two people together are far less likely to get bored than one person on their own.

Seren looked as though she had spent her entire life stepping in and out of elegant, expensive shops. She did not seem like someone who would ever have worn a straw hat.

And yet it suited her surprisingly well.

Sensing the weight of Aillen’s gaze, Seren reached up and adjusted the brim lightly.

“What if I simply walk off wearing this?”

“Then I’ll take it as a generous gift. But would you ever have the chance to wear something like that in the North? It looks like the wind could blow it away at any moment. And it’s not even warm.”

White pebbles had been laid along the path to the cottage, almost like a makeshift signpost. Since the path only began where the cottage was already in plain view, the pebbles weren’t particularly useful, but they had a quiet charm all the same.

Aillen found the sound of their two sets of footsteps crunching together over the pebbles strangely pleasant.

Just a few steps before they reached the cottage, Seren gently stopped her.

“I promise I won’t lose the hair ribbon, at least.”

With that, Seren returned the hat to her head. The brim shaded her face from view, but her voice was gentle.

***

“Aillen!”

“Aunt!”

“You’ve grown so much.”

“Goodness… you’re the only one who ever says that to me….”

“And you know I’m rather good at saying things I don’t mean.”

“Must you ruin it like that?”

“You know how dearly I dote on my niece, don’t you?”

“I don’t think I do.”

Although her reply was curt, Aillen stepped forward immediately and embraced her aunt.

She always smelt of wood, in a way that was different from the smell of living trees, and of tools whose names Aillen did not know. The smell was unfamiliar, yet not unpleasant.

“Still… you do seem a bit different. Let me see… Have you lost some weight?”

“Well…”

“Something’s been weighing on your heart, perhaps.”

Her aunt released her and took two steps back, as if the extra distance might help her to understand what had happened.

Yet instead of realization, confusion widened her eyes. Although she had embraced Aillen the moment she arrived, it seemed that she was only now noticing the guest who had arrived with her.

“Aunt, this is Seren—she’s staying at our inn. Seren, this is my aunt. Her name is…”

“Adina Grandel. My, you’re quite tall. Mind your head when you go in and out.”

“It isn’t quite that severe, so you needn’t worry.”

“Come inside. It’s been how long since Aillen brought home a new friend….”

Adina cast Aillen a sideways glance, her lips curving into the mischievous smile she wore whenever she found something to tease about.

Aillen averted her gaze, trying to hide her awkwardness.