GDTEA Chapter 130

You Already Know

Having unleashed her anger on the injured Ren and stormed out of the room, Sharti could not hide her distress.

The moment she had seen Ren bleeding at the tournament grounds lingered in her mind like sediment, making her heart pound even now.

‘Ren seems to think getting hurt is far too easy a thing.’

He felt no fear whatsoever at having his flesh cut, torn, and bleeding.

Every time she saw Ren like that, Sharti’s heart plummeted.

“Why does he do that, honestly.”

As the image of Ren in the waiting room, acting perfectly fine despite his injured body while accepting requests, rose to her mind once more, her fist clenched tight.

‘And in the middle of all that, he was pleased that his scarf didn’t get blood on it.’

Even as his hood soaked through with blood, Ren had proudly declared he’d protected the scarf — he had looked so utterly carefree.

Covered in dirt and dust, sweating in the cold winter air, smiling that bright smile — seeing Ren like that, Sharti had wanted to tear apart the scarf he was clutching so dearly.

When she only stared at him in silence, Ren finally began to read her mood and grew uneasy.

[Sha, I only bled a little. Nothing’s actually wro—… ng…]

[…Is Ren a doctor? Don’t say another word and lie down right here.]

Sharti had wrapped Ren’s face and body thoroughly in bandages, confirmed that no organs or bones were damaged, and only then was she able to bring him back.

“He has no idea how I feel — what do you mean, accepting a request?”

Sharti, who had been making her way back to Ren, stopped dead in her tracks and gripped the bandages tightly.

It wasn’t as though she didn’t understand why Ren had suddenly entered the tournament and accepted a mercenary request while injured.

He must have done it to cover the shortfall in travel funds.

Since they were going on the journey together, it was understandable that Ren felt a sense of responsibility about securing funds.

But that didn’t mean she could tolerate him pushing himself to the point of injury without any reason or explanation.

‘It seems like he hasn’t been opening up much while staying at the Count’s mansion either.’

The fact that she couldn’t be a source of strength for him stung.

He had proven his skill by entering his first tournament and making it all the way to the finals — and yet her heart was anything but quiet.

“Hmm?”

As she trudged back toward Ren, Count Chelonar happened to be emerging from the guest room at just that moment.

Standing still beneath the lighting that gradually dimmed with the hour, the Count looked precarious.

“…Count?”

Sharti carefully moved toward him.

“Are you alright?”

The Count’s face, bathed in the soft corridor light, had gone pale, though not to the point of collapse.

He leaned against the wall for a moment, then his head turned slowly to look back at Sharti.

His eyes were a swirl of many emotions.

‘What happened?’

Sharti glanced at the closed door.

‘Ren should be alone in that room.’

At this late hour, the Count had come to the guest room without a single attendant.

Yet his face, showing little reaction even upon seeing Sharti, didn’t quite suggest he had come to meet her.

“…Miss, would you spare me a moment?”

The Count, who had seemed deep in thought, didn’t even wait for Sharti’s answer before taking the lead and walking down the darkened corridor.

His gait, looking utterly bereft of composure, was deeply unsettling.

Left with little choice, Sharti fiddled with the bandages in her hand, set them down in front of the door, and followed after the Count.

The place the Count headed to was a large terrace.

Remodeled with a ceiling and windows to allow use even in winter, the terrace was situated at the rear of the manor, away from prying ears.

“It seems Eryl cannot remember all the nightmares she has had until now. Is that also an effect of the antidote?”

As they stepped into the terrace bathed in blue moonlight, Count Chelonar murmured quietly.

Sharti glanced out at the view beyond the terrace and nodded.

“The antidote plays a part, but since each day is filled with good memories, I believe Eryl’s subconscious is choosing not to retain nightmares that are nothing more than illusions.”

As Eryl’s spirit grew healthy and overcame the curse, the poison that had been gnawing at her memories lost its power and was slowly neutralized.

“I’ve been monitoring her while gradually reducing the dosage, and her progress is good.”

Above all, Tein — who was around her age — was by Eryl’s side every day, making sure she ate and took her antidote while offering gentle encouragement, so her health had nearly fully recovered.

“…I see. Thank you.”

The Count had his back to the window where moonlight poured in, making his expression hard to read.

Yet upon receiving confirmation that Eryl was safe, his voice trembled faintly, as though relief had caught in his throat.

“By the way, I have heard that one of your companions is afflicted with amnesia.”

“…!”

Sharti’s shoulders flinched as the Count brought up Ren so unexpectedly.

His somber voice bored into her ear.

“What is it you trust about such a person, to travel alongside them?”

“…What do you mean?”

Sharti’s heart pounded as her mind raced.

The Count’s attitude and the surrounding circumstances pointed clearly to one meaning.

“Is it because you know his true identity, or simply because you do not?”

Sharti bit down hard on her trembling lips.

…This person knows who Ren really is.

She had imagined countless times the possibility of crossing paths with someone who knew Ren’s true identity.

Each time, how fervently she had wished it would never come to pass — that it would remain nothing more than imagination.

Sharti quietly exhaled a heavy breath.

She had grown careless because of the magic tool, and even after it shattered, she had remained complacent — and the consequence of that was standing right before her now.

The tip of her tongue tasted bitter.

“To me, he is simply ‘Ren.'”

Sharti closed her eyes for a long moment, then opened them and looked directly at the Count.

“As long as he remains ‘Ren,’ the only person I need to know is ‘Ren’ alone.”

“…Trusting someone whose identity you don’t even know, and sharing your heart with them, at that. I didn’t think you’d be foolish enough to stake your life on a connection that might be severed at any moment.”

In a self-deprecating tone that seemed addressed to no one in particular, the Count gave a short laugh.

“How selfish — both of you.”

“…!”

Sharti drew a sharp breath under the weight of that gaze, full of reproach and resentment.

Just then, the trees outside the window shook violently, and an eerie shadow swept across the terrace.

It looked almost like a dark monster summoned by Count Chelonar himself.

The fierce wind outside made no sound within the terrace, which only deepened the strange sense of dread.

Sharti was about to part her lips when Count Chelonar suddenly smiled, wearily and without strength.

“And yet… the fact that I can’t help but understand that selfish choice is quite something.”

“…Pardon?”

As Count Chelonar stepped out from the shadows and drew closer, his expression became visible.

The Count was looking at Sharti with the same kind smile he had always shown her.

“I was prepared to abandon everything to protect my daughter. I had even resolved to follow her in death, should she die.”

“…”

“It is you who saved us both.”

The Count reached into his breast pocket and extended a long gold medallion.

It resembled the gold medallion she had seen in Sedipia Village.

The difference was that the one the Count held out bore not a scorpion, but a key and a feather.

“Should you one day find yourself alone, in whatever form that takes, and in need of aid — use this.”

When a noble presented a gold medallion bearing their family crest, it typically meant one of two things: a threat, or a token of gratitude. Count Chelonar was clearly the latter.

But the emotion conveyed was as heavy as the weight of the medallion itself.

‘He is certain that once Ren recovers his memories, we won’t be able to stay together.’

Sharti was quick to read between the lines.

This gold medallion was a consolation — or perhaps compensation.

The smallest gesture of sympathy that could be offered to her, who would be left behind by him.

“…”

Yet Sharti did not refuse.

Nor did she boldly declare that such a thing would absolutely never happen.

She did not invoke her promise with Ren and proclaim her faith in him.

She simply took the medallion in both hands, bowed her head to the Count, and left at once.

She left behind the candlestick she had brought, and walked out into the dark corridor.

Perhaps because it was a noble’s mansion, the corridor air was pleasantly warm even in the cold weather.

Yet perhaps because the strength of the wind visible beyond the terrace window kept flickering in her mind —

It felt strangely cold.

“—Sha!”

“…Ren?”

Startled back to her senses, she came face-to-face with Ren, who had been wandering the corridor.

The fact that Ren — who should have been lying in bed — was moving about in the dim corridor made Sharti hurry toward him.

“Did something happen? Why are you out here, you should be lying down.”

“I thought you weren’t coming back because you were still angry.”

“Hm?”

Ren held out his hand with a sulky expression.

He was holding the bandages she had set down in front of the door when she had gone to follow the Count.

“I figured you must have been angry enough to just leave this behind. So I came out to look for you.”

“…Oh…”

Sharti blinked blankly, looking back and forth between the bandages and Ren.

The unsettling feeling that had seeped into her chest slowly began to fade.

“I’m not angry anymore.”

She had even forgotten she had been angry.

She had simply been upset.

She had worked herself up alone, resentful that Ren didn’t understand her distress.

“Because Ren came looking for me, it’s all gone. …So next time too — if I get angry and disappear, you have to come find me.”

Sharti added the last part almost like a murmur to herself, and Ren’s eyes curved into a smile.

He quietly laced his fingers through hers.

“Sha, if that’s all it takes to ease your anger — I’ll come find you, anywhere, anytime.”

Warmth reached her hands, which had grown cold.

Sharti met those gentle eyes and silently swallowed the questions she couldn’t bring herself to say aloud.

What did you talk about with Count Chelonar?

Did the Count tell you about Ren’s true identity?

Did he not offer to help Ren recover his memories?

What did Ren ask him?

…Do you now know who you really are?

Why won’t you say anything to me?

That night, Sharti could not sleep.

Following the sound of branches knocked against the window by the wind, her heart kept pounding and pounding.

And just as she finally drifted off, Sharti had a nightmare.

A street packed with a great crowd of people.

Standing there, utterly alone, was Sharti.

Even as she was jostled this way and that by the crowd, Sharti did not move — she waited for someone.

Like that, she kept waiting. On and on.

Until the very moment the dream ended, she waited alone for someone.

Someone who never came.

****

The day Sharti, Ren, and Tein departed from Count Chelonar’s mansion, the weather was exceptionally cold.

In weather that turned noses red and cheeks ice-cold just from standing still, Eryl wept endlessly.

“Waaaaaah~! No~! Tein can’t go~!! Waaah! The deer princess is here too~!!! Hnngh~ If you’re going, hic, if you’re going then only the demon king bear should go! Hic, hwaaah~!”

Ren plugged his ears, while Tein stood before Eryl, sniffling.

Although gripping the strap of his bag with composure, Tein too seemed pained by the parting and couldn’t say a single word.

“Tein, go say your goodbyes.”

When Sharti gave Tein a gentle push on the back, the child nodded.

“Little angel, crying wears you out. If your body has no strength, you’ll catch a cold quickly.”

“Sniff… if I catch a cold, will I get you to stay here longer…?”

When Tein patted her head, Eryl, eyes and nose dripping, sniffled and asked.

“We still have to go. Grandmother and big sister are waiting. But I made a lot of medicine for little angel. You have to take it when you feel sick.”

“Medicine tastes bad…. I have to hold Tein’s hand to take it. Snff…”

Eryl muttered, pouting her lips.

“And, and the deer princess has to be here too. Otherwise Eryl will go achoo achoo.”

At his daughter’s threats, Count Chelonar looked at Sharti with a troubled expression.

Even he hadn’t anticipated that Sharti would leave so soon.

But it wouldn’t do to remain indebted to a noble who knew Ren’s true identity.

The Count, too, found sheltering ‘Leodelt Gwendhill’ to be a burden.

“I will study harder and come to visit little angel. And then, instead of teacher’s — I mean, deer princess’s — medicine, I’ll make little angel well with medicine I made myself.”

“…!”

When Tein smiled brightly and declared his bold ambition, Eryl’s round eyes grew even wider.

After they linked their little fingers together, Eryl burst into tears once more and hugged Tein tightly.

Then she ran to Sharti as well and clung to her legs.

“Hwaaaaah~!! Deer princess has to be happy~!!”

Toward Eryl, who believed she was returning to a storybook, Sharti crouched down and gathered both small children into her arms.

“Young Lady Chelonar, please stay healthy and well.”

She exchanged a brief farewell with the Count through nothing more than a nod, then left the mansion through its secret passage to avoid others’ eyes.

She had received nothing in particular from Count Chelonar’s mansion, yet Sharti’s bag was heavy.

‘Inadvertently, I ended up with two gold medallions.’

Thinking of Scholar Ronan, whose eyes had been burning with intensity while at Count Chelonar’s side, Sharti quickly made her way out of the Count’s domain.