BEW 8

 Huh? Why does his expression look like that?

His face was rigid, but his eyes were shaking uncontrollably as if lost, and his lips kept twitching as if they were about to say something.

…As expected, it seems Dante is the wilted one here.

I wanted to bring Sienna and the others immediately to clear my grievances, but I held myself back.

Ah, if it weren’t for it being 3 AM, I would have brought them over.

I swallowed my regret and spoke again in place of Dante, who was at a loss for words.

“I didn’t know, but it turns out I sleep better when someone is next to me. Being alone in a big bed makes me feel cold and I can’t fall asleep.”

This rather plausible excuse seemed to melt Dante’s cold demeanor.

“…Ah. That sleep.”

“Then, is there any other sleep besides that sleep?”

“No. None.”

Dante answered and soon let out a laugh like a deflated balloon.

Oh, my.

He looks even better when he smiles.

---

I dragged the now-smiling Dante to the bedroom.

I lay down on the bed first and patted the empty space next to me.

“Hurry up and come here.”

“…Is it really okay?”

“What do you mean?”

I knew what he was asking, but I pretended not to know.

Sometimes, an innocent question can be the answer, don’t you think?

This was one of those times.

Dante also answered, “Nothing,” and laid down on the bed hesitantly.

Oh, there’s someone standing at attention in bed.

I admired Dante’s well-defined sleeping posture.

He laid up straight, his hands clasped tightly to his body, looking at the ceiling.

Oh, come on, he’s so tense.

Someone might think I’m going to eat him or something.

Haha. I laughed lightly and, unlike Dante who was upright, I took a pose that seemed like I was floating through the air.

It was a position that made falling asleep easy.

“Ah, now I can finally fall asleep.”

There was no reply in response to my comment.

Then, about 30 minutes later.

“…I’m screwed.”

I couldn’t sleep.

Was Dante the problem?

No. It was the rain.

To be precise, it was the sudden torrential rain beating against the window that was the problem.

Wow, it was so loud.

It was so loud that I couldn’t sleep at all.

If this were a case of floor noise, the neighbors upstairs and downstairs would already be grabbing each other’s hair and fighting.

In the end, I forced myself to close my sleepy eyes and try to sleep…

Boom, bang!

“Mommy!”

A tremendous thunder mixed with the heavy rain sounded.

Startled, I screamed and trembled.

And then.

“Wife?”

When I came to my senses, I was buried in Dante’s arms.

Or rather, I had my forehead pressed against his rigid arm.

It hurt, the muscles were so firm. Was this a wall or his chest?

“Ah, ow…”

As I held my throbbing forehead and groaned, Dante quickly sat up.

“Are you alright, Wife?”

“Yes, I’m fine. The thunder nearly made my heart drop, and the forehead I slammed into your arm is incredibly painful…”

“Does it hurt that much? Should I call a doctor immediately?”

Seeing his urgent demeanor, I hurriedly grabbed his arm and pushed him back onto the bed.

“It’s just a joke, I’m joking. If you joke twice, you might even call a mortician.”

“A mortician? How could that be?”

“…That was also a joke.”

“Ah.”

“Hmm.”

An awkward silence lingered for a moment.

Boom, bang!

“Mommy!”

The thunder that sounded like it was going to split the world apart rang out again.

Then, a white light flashed outside the window and disappeared.

I buried my forehead in Dante’s arm again and trembled.

Yes. At this point, I must confess honestly that I hate thunder and lightning.

It’s scary.

I’m scared!

I hate the loud noises, the flashes, everything. I just hate it all.

Trembling like a fish out of water, I felt a gentle warmth settle on my shoulder.

It was Dante’s hand.

The big hand that had been awkwardly resting on my shoulder began to lightly pat my arm.

“Are you comforting me?”

“Are you scared of thunder?”

“…I was the first to ask.”

“It’s just patting.”

“I thought you were comforting me.”

“If you say you’re scared, I’ll take it as comforting you.”

What? I thought he was just a grumpy person. Turns out he also makes jokes.

I thought for a moment and then nodded.

“Yes. I’m a bit scared. Just a little. Really just a tiny bit. Actually, so little that…”

My last attempt at bravado was cut short by another thunderclap.

The next moment.

“Pfft.”

I heard a small laugh from above my head, and I glared up with a frown.

“…Did you just laugh?”

“No.”

“Did you laugh? Did you really? It sounds like you laughed at someone’s fear. It feels like you’re a shameless scoundrel who laughs at other people’s misfortune?!”

“…Is it that bad?”

“It is. Of course it is!”

With my assertive reply, Dante averted his gaze.

His eyes, which had been looking away, seemed to lose their way momentarily and then closed tightly.

“I didn’t laugh.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Really, seriously, really?”

“Really, seriously, really.”

As the conversation turned frivolous, our voices grew fainter.

Boom, rumble.

In my hazy consciousness, I thought I could hear the distant thunder.

But instead of waking up, I moved my lips one more time.

“Really… seriously…?”

That was the last memory of that night.

Dante’s response faded from my memory.

The next day, we slept in heavily.

---

For a while, an unusually early rainy season continued.

It was a rare rainy season in the cold northern regions of the Empire.

Since the rainy season began, Dante had developed a new habit.

Checking the morning sky as soon as he woke up.

Today, too, the sky was gray and black, with no trace of blue.

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

Fine raindrops hit the window. Soon, they would overflow, then become sparse again, repeating the cycle.

“Thank goodness.” 

What? Thank goodness? 

He was startled by his own words. 

Dante blinked rapidly, taken aback by his own realization.

He had never particularly liked rain throughout his life.

Especially when scouting in the monster forest or facing monsters, rain was quite an annoying obstacle.

The mud was slippery, visibility was obscured, and sounds were drowned out.

It was bothersome and dangerous, like fighting within a semi-transparent curtain.

Perhaps that’s why he had never welcomed rain in everyday life either. Yet here he was, thinking it was a good thing.

The unexpected thought left him blinking, as a conversation reached his ears from a distance.

“Ugh. My babies. What if they all die because they got hit by too much rain?” 

Even without seeing her face, he could imagine her expression.

She must be sticking her frowning eyebrows and pouting her lips against the window.

“Indeed. If this continues, the fields will be a mess. But, if the rain stops, the soil might be better.”

“…Marie, just comfort me. No, just tell me it will be fine.”

“I’m sorry. How could I lie to you, Lady?”

“It’s strange. I thought you were more respectful before… Did I accidentally feed you a cookie with poison instead of herbs?”

The cozy conversation that reached him made Dante’s lips form a faint smile.

The two people’s presence gradually approached his office.

Dante, who had been slouched, straightened his back and sat up.

When he dragged the documents on his desk to the center, there was a knock on the door.

“Your Grace, I brought you a snack, may I come in?”

“Come in.”

As soon as he answered, the door opened, and a white face peeked in.

Her long, braided blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders.

“Did I interrupt you?”

“Not at all. I was just about to take a break.”

“See? My timing is always spot on!”

With a proud smile, Serafina wheeled in a cart.

Once, it had been servants who brought snacks, but now, Serafina personally wheeled in the cart.

The mistress of the mansion wheeling the cart.

It was a sight that would shock anyone, but strangely, the people of the Richter mansion had quickly adapted to this behavior.

‘If it’s the lady, it’s to be expected,’ they thought.

Rolling the cart over, Serafina brought out a tray with a plate and walked over briskly.

“It's been raining so much lately that it’s hard to get herbs. It’s tough to gather them from the garden, and taking from the emergency herbs for the Duke’s family feels too much… So today, it’s just ordinary cookies. Sigh.”

After a heartfelt sigh, the sound of someone cheering came from the hallway.

‘Today, it’s just ordinary cookies!’ was a faint cheer that could be heard.

Fortunately, Serafina seemed not to have heard it.

"But, Your Grace, do you think all my herbs will die? Or, have they already died? Should I hold a funeral for them? How pitiful they are... my babies..."

Her expression, grumbling while staring out the window, was exactly what Dante had thought earlier.

Oh, dear. He almost laughed.

Dante barely managed to suppress the laughter that was about to escape.

What a relief.

If he had laughed here, he might have been seen as a heartless scoundrel who laughs at others' misfortunes.

However, he couldn't completely hold back the smile that tugged at his lips.

Serafina, with her lips pouting, reminded him of her grumbling in bed last night.

"It's chilly for spring, isn't it? And with the rain continuing, it's even colder, don't you think?"

"Shall I light a firewood?"

"No. It's not that bad. If we just cover ourselves well with blankets... but it's so damp. It's really not easy."

Serafina, who had been grumbling diligently to herself, frowned at the sound of rain hitting the window.

Then, she naturally took his hand and covered her ears.

〈Ah, it's finally quiet. Your Grace, your hands must have muscles. They're big, thick, and firm, perfect for blocking noise. Can I rely on them when it rains in the future?〉

〈...As you wish.〉

〈Wow. Thx. Oh, that means 'thank you.'〉

Though he had been doing it for days, her belated, brazen permission made him smile.

Serafina, who was directly looking at his smiling face, also briefly smiled back and closed her eyes.

Soon, the sound of her soft breathing filled the room.

"Oh. Because of that..."

Suddenly, a realization struck like lightning.

Dante, who had been staring into space, slowly moved his gaze to his hand.

As Serafina had said, it was a large, firm, thick hand.

A hand full of calluses and scars.

Somehow, his palm itched.

As if a long hair was tickling his palm.

Surely, that hair would be dazzlingly golden.