I smile and try to separate from him, only for him to tighten his arms, which have moved from my cheek to around my back in the blink of an eye. I donât even have the time to tilt my head, âhuh?â before Iâm tightly hugged just like that.
Despite him being thin, he has arms that you can clearly tell are a manâs. Itâs a bit suffocating to be hugged by that strength, but more than that itâs comfortable. My body is filled with a warm sense of security. It feels like Iâll definitely end up falling asleep like this.
If I relax, it feels like that crying voice is trying to echo in my eardrums. But if Iâm in these arms, it grows distant; that, coupled with my lack of sleep these days, makes me drop my eyelids.
ãFilmina, wait. Donât sleep yet.ã
ãâ¦â¦A-Alright.ã
Feeling so good in his arms, Iâm about to fall asleep but his voice brings my thoughts back to reality. I manage to somehow regain my swaying consciousness, slipping out of his now relaxed arms to look up at his face.
As I do, he thrusts his hand towards me, a small cloth bag in it. I blink in surprise. He continues, ãGive me your hand.ã I do as Iâm told, reaching my hand out, and he drops it into my palm.
Judging from appearance, it looks like an ordinary talisman bag. The purple bag is tied up with a long string, probably to wear it on my neck. I canât tell whatâs inside just by looking, but judging from touch, it seems thereâs something hard inside.
ãMay I open it?ã
ãYes.ã
Urged by his nod, I untie the string on the talisman bag, dropping its insides into my palm. The sight of the object takes my breath away, just like when we confronted the demon.
ãThis isâ¦ã
I canât say anything else. My sleepiness vanishes in a second.
Inside the talisman bag is the octahedron that had fallen to the ground after this man destroyed that demon. Its surface gives you the impression that itâs smooth glass; itâs the same as that demon, a dark red color thatâs difficult to call beautiful by any standards. Coiling around it over and over are thin white threads. If it was just that object, it could only be described as bad luck and ominous. But the white threads strangely alleviate that.
âWhy this?â I canât put that question in words, but it mustâve gotten through to him. He lifts up the object from my hand, putting it up to right in front of my eyes to show me.
ãThis is the core of that demon.ã
ãCore?ã
I tilt my head, and he returns the object to my hand. I take it without protest, staring fixedly at it. The more I look at it, the more I can see itâs an object that gives an impression of bad luck to whoever looks at it.
Itâs not glass, itâs not steel, itâs not even a kind of precious jewel. Just what is this octahedron object? I compare the manâs face with this object, in the end unable to do anything but tilt my head in confusion. He then says something inexcusable that I just canât let pass.
ãYes, itâs the core. Or perhaps I should say, itâs where the demonâs life resides.ã
â¦â¦Whatâs with that ominous explanation? I canât help but feel like hurling it out of the window. From that explanation, it clearly can only be something dangerous. Before I can object, he continues.
ãI couldnât find out the personâs name, but itâs a truth that that demon was connected to the person that cursed you. By all rights, I want to have that destroyed too, but since he didnât say that. Thatâs why this core was left. This is a clue connected to the culprit. Although, itâs really annoying.ã
He grandly clicks his tongue. Iâm reflected in his sunrise-colored eyes, making a delicate expression. He probably can tell each and every single thing I want to say but Iâm not saying. But he, my husband, purposely ignores them, tightening his otherworldly, androgynous beautiful face. He grasps the demonâs core in my hand.
ãYou probably donât want to, but keep this with you. If you come in contact with the culprit, itâs going to respond without fail. I cast a charm on it.ã
ãRespond? How so?ã
ãYouâll know when it does.ã
His answer clearly doesnât have enough words in it, but he probably wonât answer me if I keep asking any more. If this man says ãyouâll know when it does,ã then that must be true.
ãâ¦â¦Understood. By the way, what is this thread around the core?ã
Perhaps itâs because the core is such an ominous color, it makes the beauty of the silver thread curled around it look all the more beautiful. Itâs certainly not just a thread. Besides, I feel like I kind of remember seeing it somewhere. But I canât remember what it is. As I squint at it, he easily says:
ãItâs the princessâs hair.ã
ãâ¦â¦Huh?ã
It takes me a moment to comprehend what he said. I raise my head from the core to state at his face. The princessâs hairâ¦?
Just how and why did he get that? Itâs completely impossible to understand. I know I respond a more than usual to things related to the princess, or about my father-in-law Lancent.
I canât just let what he said right now slide like that. âWhat do you mean?â I ask with my gaze. He lets out a sigh, as if implying he expected my reaction.
ãWhile this may be just a core, a demon is still a demon. If you keep that with you all day and all night, I canât say there wonât be a negative influence on you. This is a countermeasure against that. Since the princessâs hair alone, with the divine protection of the goddess, has plenty holy power in it. Thereâs nothing more sacred than this for an intermediary with a demonâs capture.ã
ãT-that may be true but, still, to actually receive the princessâs hairâ¦â¦ã
ãCalm down. I didnât even have to ask her for it, she gladly offered it herself.ã
ãâ¦â¦Well, Iâll have to give my thanks to the princess once again.ã
I certainly canât say that Iâm not at all reluctant to carry this ominous object. But if even the princess has cooperated with me, then thereâs nothing else I can say. Iâll say itâs best to obediently carry this around with me.
But if I take this manâs words at face value, doesnât it basically mean that unless I come in contact with the culprit, this core is a completely useless object?
No matter how much I struggle, no matter how much this man is here for me, this culprit that we still havenât caught fills me with anxiety.
I have no information besides the assumption that this person is probably a wizard, I have no idea who cast this curse on me. Just how useful would this core really be?
ãââThis is just a theory, but. Thereâs a high chance that the person that cast this curse on you is probably near you.ã
ãHuhâ¦â¦?ã
Those are unexpected words. What does that mean, near me? I donât remember noticing anyone that suspicious around me. As if replying to the question I couldnât put in words, the man continues matter-of-factly.
ãThe princess called it ãthe seed of the flower,ã which is correct. If this was a normal curse, the one taking care of this ãseed of the flowerã would be a demon. But this time, it seems like the demon just planted the ãseedã and didnât do anything else. If so, the person raising this ãflowerã has to be none other than the one that cast the curse.ã
I feel like I understand, but also donât understand. I understand that the person taking care of the flower usually would be a demon, but this time itâs the person that cast the curse themselves. But how does that turn into this person being ânear meâ?
ãIf the curse still continues even after we destroyed the demon the culprit made a contract with, we can consider that the culprit is directly interfering with you. I donât know if the culprit is aware of this or not, but considering the curse is growing worse, itâs only natural to think that theyâre in a close position to you. Because curses are a kind of magic. It can be said that the closer a spell-caster is to you, it more or less has an effect.ã
ãOhâ¦â¦ã
I can do nothing but nod vaguely. At any rate, in summary, it means that the culprit is near me and when I come into contact with them, this core will have a reaction.
Itâs rather irritating that I canât attack them as soon as that happens, but even so, this is a big step forward compared to when Iâd blindly rummage through magical books by myself, not knowing anything about them.
I put the core back into the talisman bag, tie it up, hang it from my neck til it reaches my chest, and hide it in my dress. I suddenly feel a gaze on me. âHm?â I lift my head to see the man making an unusually sad face, looking at me.
ãâ¦â¦Do you think you canât depend on me?ã
I blink in surprise at the unexpected words. This isnât a nice way to put it, but just what the heck is he saying?
ãIâm called the Head Wizard and yet I canât break a single curse on my wife, Iâm just standing here and watching. Itâs laughable.ã
He says that in a self-deprecating way, bitterly laughing. Itâs not like him at all; in fact, itâs timid and fainthearted just like when that incident happened a long time ago.
I snap my finger at his forehead. Those sunrise-colored eyes widen in surprise. I swallow down a sigh, looking at him as heâs at a loss for words. Really, just what idiotic things is he saying?
ãWhat are you saying? Who do you think has helped me stay here for so long without losing to that dream?ã
I know that right now, this man is the one putting more effort in than me, the actual person that got cursed. I know that heâs prioritizing me over everyone and everything else. I know that he worries over me while neglecting himself, thinks of me dearly more than anyone else.
How can he call that laughable? If anyone has a problem here, Iâd like them to certainly come forward. If anyone wants to have a fight over this, Iâll gladly take up the challenge.
I smile, moving closer to that man. He grimaces, burying his face in my shoulder as if to hide it. His arms wrap around my back. He hugs me tightly just like that. I comb through the black hair right beside my face with my fingers entwined.
ãYou should blame me more.ã
I canât help but smile at those whispered words. His breath on my shoulder feels ticklish.
ãOh my. Shouldnât you be the one blaming me more, Edi?ã
ãWhat would I blame you for?ã
ãBecause Iâm the one that stayed quiet and let this whole situation get worse.ã
ãBut it was my responsibility to realize that.ã
ãYou were just enjoying this life so much, werenât you? Thatâs why weâre even.ã
He doesnât enjoy the feeling of an everyday lifestyle, and yet he still enjoyed living with me so much. Thereâs nothing worth more than that. If he could relax around me, that makes me so happy. But even so, he still doesnât realize these feelings of mine, raising his head and saying this as if heâs so completely surprised:
ãYouâre such a softie.ã
Rude. Thatâs certainly a way to speak to the woman whoâs your wife. I have no intentions of being a softie. I chose this man as my partner. But even though I chose him, this man probably doesnât realize that the special one here is him. â¦â¦Well, if he did, he wouldnât say complaints like this.
I smile like usual at my husband as he slowly raises his head to look at me.
ãIâm depending on you, my dear husband.ã
His eyes widen for a second at those words, before he finally smiles. At that bold smile, Iâm relieved here. As a natural smile spills from me, he too smiles naturally.
ãââYes. Of course.ã
Then those lips, meeting mine as if itâs only natural to do so, are strangely sweet.