Morning broke on the next day.
Since the journey to our destination was fairly long, we rose before dawn, finished grooming, and prepared to leave.
By the time we were ready, the sun was already high in the sky.
"Senior Brother, you haven't forgotten anything, have you?"
"Worry about yourself."
"I'm fine. I barely brought any luggage, so there's nothing for me to forget."
Watching Ern proudly give me a thumbs-up, I let out a sigh.
Just thinking about being cooped up with this kid in a carriage all day was already draining my energy.
Seriously, how could anyone have so much to say?
Even a ten-year-old kid runs out of words sometimes when they're stuck with me.
Was there no hero out there to save me from this?
Just as I was thinking that, I spotted someone walking out of the mansion.
"Uhh, Uncle Baaal…."
"Lyriette?"
It was Lyriette.
She looked like she'd just woken up—still in her nightgown, rubbing her eyes, half in a daze.
Calling out for me so desperately even in that state was kind of adorable. Does that make me sound like a pervert?
But cute is cute, so there's nothing to be done about it.
"I'm sorry. I was trying to leave without waking you."
I set down my luggage and dashed over barefoot, standing before Lyriette and bowing at the waist.
It was meant as an apology for waking her up.
But the way her cheeks puffed slightly, silently declaring "I'm cross with you," didn't seem to be about that at all.
"That's so mean. I wanted to see you off, and you were trying to sneak away…."
Ah, so that was the issue.
I'd thought I was being considerate, but apparently it left Lyriette feeling hurt.
"I'm sorry. That was thoughtless of me. By the way, aren't you cold? Here, wear this coat."
The weather was starting to warm up now, but the morning air, just as the sun was rising, still had a bit of a chill to it.
I took off one of my garments and offered it to Lyriette, but she shook her head.
"It's fine. It's warm enough now."
"Is it? Then—"
"But I'll wear it anyway."
"Ah… go ahead, then."
Was "fine" just about not being cold?
But then I didn't understand the point of taking my coat at all.
Lately it feels like I'm having a harder time following the logic behind Lyriette's actions.
Anyway, I put the coat—big enough to be practically a tent on her—on her and buttoned it up.
Lyriette flapped the dangling sleeves proudly, showing off her makeshift wings.
I worried it might be too big to be comfortable, but she inspected the coat here and there with a thoroughly satisfied expression.
"Sniff, sniff…."
"…?"
Why on earth was she smelling it?
Did my clothes smell like some lonely old bachelor?
I had it laundered and only got it back today, of all days.
Guess even that couldn't wash out my particular peculiar scent.
"Senior Brother! Hurry up already! I know you don't want to part with the Young Lady, but if we don't leave soon, we'll be late!"
"I'm coming, I'm coming."
Unable to bear Ern's nagging from behind, I took Lyriette's hand and dashed toward the carriage.
By then, not just Lyriette but Edmund, Cassdia, and Abel—along with the rest of the household—had come out and lined up around the carriage as if standing guard.
For a trip that was only going to take a week, it felt more like a send-off for enlisted soldiers.
"I hear it's about a week's journey?"
"Yes, Brother."
"Travel safely. Come to think of it, I never asked where you're headed."
"Arkanel."
"Arkanel, that's quite far. Is this Mage Association business?"
"Something like that."
Though calling it "business" was generous, considering the real purpose was probably just a bunch of old men throwing a drinking party.
Still, that was the official story, at least.
I would've preferred to skip this sort of gathering if I could, but this time the guest of honor was none other than myself, so I'd been all but dragged into attending.
After all, it had been a long while since a 7th Circle mage appeared on the continent.
So this was, in a sense, a celebration in my honor as well.
"Young Master, here—eat this on the road. It might not be much, though."
"Yes, thank you."
"Whoa, sandwiches…!"
The moment I took a small basket from Cassdia, that little rascal beside me started drooling.
Of the six sandwiches inside, at least four were surely destined for his stomach.
I handed the basket over, telling him to portion it out properly.
Grinning like an idiot, he scurried off toward the carriage.
Just then, Abel strode up to me with purposeful steps.
"Uncle, I hope your journey goes smoothly. I'll look after Lyriette in your absence."
"Good. No more foolishness—just get along with each other from now on, at least."
"Yes!"
"And don't just take a beating the whole time. Show a little dignity as her older brother now and then, won't you?"
"I—I'll try."
That answer, at least, I liked.
Well, at this point, I no longer worry that Abel might be scheming something behind the scenes.
The two of them had become a proper, believable pair of siblings by now.
If they hadn't, I probably would have forced myself to stay behind at the mansion this time, no matter what.
It's precisely because I now trust that peace will hold in this house even without me that I'm able to leave at all.
"Lyriette, you go on and greet Uncle too."
"Yes."
As if passing a baton, Lyriette stepped forward, taking her turn last.
Traces of lingering reluctance still flickered faintly across her face.
"Uncle. Please don't worry too much, and have a safe trip."
"I will."
"Especially—you have to eat your meals on time. Don't go skipping meals just because you're busy looking after everyone else, like you do when you're with me. Understood?"
"I'll keep that in mind."
Uh oh. Had she caught on?
I thought I'd played it off pretty well without her noticing.
I nodded with a wry smile, and Lyriette smiled back, satisfied.
It seemed she'd been quite bothered whenever I skipped meals on her account.
I really should start eating properly from now on.
"And—and there's one more bit of spoiling I'd like to ask for."
"One more? Ah, go ahead and tell me."
I thought she'd used up her allotted requests for spoiling already.
But apparently there was still one more ticket left.
Not that I'd set a fixed number from the start, so it hardly mattered.
When it comes to our niece's little indulgences, is there anything I couldn't grant?
"This—may I keep it?"
"This… you mean the coat?"
"Yes."
"I have several coats anyway, so it's no trouble, but it's much too big—won't it be uncomfortable?"
"I—I'm fine. I'm not planning to wear it, anyway."
If she wasn't going to wear it, what use would it be?
A fundamentally reasonable question came to mind, but I assumed she had her own purpose for it.
"Go ahead, then. Though it might smell a bit, so I should have it laundered once more before—"
"No, that's not necessary! It's perfect! It's just right as it is!"
"Is that so?"
Somehow the conversation didn't quite line up, but if Lyriette was happy, that was enough.
Deciding not to meddle needlessly, I turned to leave—only to stop myself.
I'd almost forgotten.
And this was the most important part.
I rummaged through my coat and pulled out a small piece of white cloth.
When I held it out, Lyriette's eyes went round.
"Uncle, this is…?"
"A ribbon. The one you're wearing now looked a little worn, so I bought you a new one."
"Is this for me?"
"Of course."
Who else would I give a gift like this to, if not Lyriette?
Of course, the sky-blue ribbon she was currently wearing was cute too.
But this one had its own understated charm that I thought would suit her well.
Lyriette gazed down at the ribbon in silence, then lifted her eyes to me.
Her fingers fidgeted around the ribbon in her grip, as if wanting something.
'I think I know what this is.'
By now, I'd learned to read Lyriette's expressions at least a little.
I wasn't so dense as to miss something this obvious.
"Would you like me to tie it on for you myself?"
"Yes. But that's not the—the indulgence from before…."
"For something this small, as many as you like."
Lyriette had called it her last request, but I never set a limit on the count.
When it came to our niece's whims, I'd grant them without end.
I untied the ribbon she currently wore, handing it briefly to Cassdia.
Then I tied her hair up with the new ribbon.
Perhaps thanks to all the practice tying my little sister's hair in my past life, it came out looking rather presentable.
"Ah…."
Once I finished tying her hair and gave her soft locks a gentle stroke, Lyriette let out a small gasp.
A faint blush colored her pale skin, spreading outward like ink bleeding through paper.
Seemed like she was happy about it—good.
"I haven't been able to check a mirror yet, so I'm not sure if you'll like it."
"N-no, it's fine! I love it! It's a gift from you, Uncle, after all."
"Ha, calling it a gift feels a bit much for something so plain."
"To me, at least, it's the best gift there is."
Lyriette shook her head firmly, adamantly refuting what I'd said.
Still, leaving it at just this felt a little embarrassing to me.
As her uncle, if I'm going to bribe her, I ought to give something a bit grander.
"I'll be sure to bring back something far prettier than that when I return, so wait for it."
"…Yes!"
Was she really looking forward to the gift that much?
She answered with the brightest smile in the world.
Even if that smile wasn't entirely of my own making,
I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride, thinking I might have some small share in it.
I grabbed the scruff of Ern's neck—who was grinning at me in an unpleasantly smug way beside me—and dragged him toward the carriage.
"Quit dawdling and move."
"Who's dawdling?! Ow! That hurts, Senior Brother! I—I still need to say goodbye to the people I owe—!"
"You had plenty of time to do that before I came out."
"But I haven't said bye to the Young Lady yet—! Y-Young Lady! Take care! I'll come back with my fiancée next time!"
I'd really rather he didn't.
"Yes, please do come by together—I'd love to see her again!"
No, wait—he should come.
Our niece wants to see her. Hm.
***
The carriage that had filled her view completely grew smaller and smaller, until at last it shrank to a single tiny dot and vanished.
Lyriette, who had been watching that retreating figure in a daze, absently wrapped both arms around the coat she wore, hugging it tight.
His warmth still seemed to linger atop her head.
Fearing it might slip away into the chilly morning air, she hurried her steps toward the mansion.
"Ugh, it's still pretty cold at this hour."
Just then, Abel, who had been following behind her, rubbed his arms and complained of the cold.
Dressed in far thinner clothes than Lyriette, there was little he could do about it.
"Lyriette, could I borrow that coat just until we get back to the mansion—"
"No!"
"…What?"
Unable to bear the cold any longer, Abel reached out to briefly borrow the coat Baal had left behind, only to be struck dumb by Lyriette's sharp refusal.
Wait, was that really something to get so upset over?
He couldn't help feeling a little wronged.
"S-sorry. You must be cold too."
But from the very fact that Lyriette had gotten angry, Abel guessed the fault must surely lie with him, and he offered his apology without argument.
There wasn't a trace left of his old domineering attitude.
"What? I'm not particularly cold, actually."
"What?"
"But I can't lend it to you. I'm sorry, Brother."
What on earth did that mean?
She wasn't even wearing it because she was cold, and yet she couldn't lend it even for a moment?
He was about to voice his confusion, but—
'…Never mind.'
Seeing his little sister, hair tied with the white ribbon Baal had just given her, wearing the coat he'd left behind, and smiling so brightly—the urge to press the matter drained right out of him.
While he was still wavering, Lyriette bounced off like a squirrel and disappeared into the mansion.
'Because it'd be a problem if Brother's smell got on it, too.'
Meanwhile, once inside the mansion, Lyriette clutched the coat she wore as carefully as if it were a sacred relic, quickening her pace toward her room.
It wasn't that Abel actually smelled strange or anything.
But there was always the smallest possibility, and one had to account for it.
Flop.
Still wearing the coat Baal had left her, Lyriette rolled across her bed.
The coat, and the bed he'd slept in until that very morning—both were thoroughly steeped in his scent.
It was a shame that the spot filled these past four nights now felt empty.
But she decided to fill that space with Bel instead, hugging the enormous rabbit plushie tightly.
Drowsiness began to spread through her, sweet and slow.
Whether it was the plush toy's soft texture, or something else entirely, she couldn't quite say.
"Lyriette! If you're not coming out, at least tell me something!"
In the end, Lyriette didn't make it to morning training that day.
No matter how long Abel called out desperately from outside her door.
