Cookies

"Duncan!"

Lia walked out of the cabin.

The moment she stepped through the door, she stumbled and nearly fell.

But Galan grabbed her from behind, steadying her.

The scarf trailing behind her slowly fell and came to rest across his hand.

She held up a box she had been carrying and opened the lid.

It was filled with caramel-colored cookies, which looked as though they had been prepared beforehand.

If she had only had yesterday to make them, she clearly couldn't have amassed such a large stock.

"Weise's specialty caramel cookies..."

"I didn't expect you to have made so many and left them there."

The moment he saw the cookies,

surprise appeared on Duncan's face, and his eyes lit up.

Lia had asked him for cooking advice before.

Although he wasn't good at cooking, the recipe for these cookies alone

was one he still knew by heart.

—On that winter afternoon,

Lecktire had insisted on dragging him into the kitchen, saying she wanted to teach him how to make treats.

"Couldn't you just leave this to the cooks? Why do you have to do it yourself?"

Though Duncan said that,

his hands never stopped working,

and a troubled look crossed his face from time to time, as though he had gotten another step wrong.

His plain white sleeves were rolled up high to keep the sticky caramel from getting on them.

Whenever she noticed he had made a mistake in a step or used the wrong amount of an ingredient,

Lecktire immediately pointed it out, holding Duncan's hand and guiding his movements.

"That's different, Duncan..."

After finishing her own batch, Lecktire gently wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead.

With light steps, she moved behind Duncan.

"This means a great deal to me."

A delicate fragrance lingered around his face, as though he were standing in a sea of blooming flowers.

Her slender, shapely forearms drew Duncan's hands along, with the patience and gentleness of someone teaching a child.

The two stayed close together throughout the process.

It made Duncan feel strangely ill at ease.

As Lecktire guided him, she would press against his back from time to time.

Feeling the warmth of the girl's body through his shirt, his heart seemed to race uncontrollably.

"M-Macht also said he was going to teach me new magic this afternoon..."

He began to stammer, and anyone could tell he had no confidence in what he was saying.

He was like a completely different person from usual,

with none of his usual confidence and composure.

"Liar..."

"Father said Macht gave you the whole day off, Duncan."

The girl suddenly brought her face into Duncan's line of sight, her little mouth pouting as she grumbled. For a moment, he lost his focus,

and the ingredients he had just mixed hung suspended in midair.

Like a child at a loss after being caught in a lie, his thoughts were in a tangle.

"I..."

"Pfft—"

Lecktire had been indignant at Duncan for making excuses and trying to slip away,

but when she saw the embarrassed look on his face, she couldn't help laughing.

"You're still so cute."

"Why don't you want to make cookies with me?"

"Do you hate me, Duncan?"

Lecktire looked away.

Her dark hair, carrying a faint floral fragrance, fell like a curtain of water, making it hard to see her expression.

Her slender hands, clasped tightly around Duncan's, began moving again, continuing with the next step.

"No... how could I..."

Duncan's embarrassed protest reached her ears, but the girl merely hid behind her hair and smiled to herself,

silently listening to the feelings of the person she loved.

To Duncan at the time,

it had been an afternoon much like any other.

Lecktire bustled lively around him, looking as though she might invite him to dance with her in the hallway at any moment.

Guluc was still in the office with Macht, discussing topics such as "good," "evil," and "guilt."

A fire burned in the fireplace, keeping the room perfectly comfortable.

Outside the window, a curtain of snow fell, clothing the entire city in silver.

It was like being in a land of snow from myth and legend,

yet it also covered the memory in a thick layer of frost.

—"Hehe, I deliberately made some extra before, so I can give Duncan some to eat on the road this time."

Looking at the smiling Lia,

Duncan came out of his brief daze and smiled too,

gently stroking the top of her head with his large hand.

"Thank you."

"Grandpa Oris, did you fix it already?"

Theresia's mouth hung open in surprise as she held the repaired Staff.

Her large, bright eyes traveled up and down it,

as though she still found it hard to believe.

After all, when she had first brought it in, he had said it would take a week at the very least.

Even that had already been fast compared with the other craftsmen in Rogley.

Yet now he had delivered it in just three or four days.

She couldn't help feeling surprised.

"Of course."

Oris smiled kindly,

and the thick stubble on his face twitched a couple of times in a comical way.

"I might have to take a long trip in the next couple of days, so I worked overtime to get it finished for you."

"After all, I don't know when I'll be back. It wouldn't do to keep you waiting too long, girl."

"I see."

Hearing that, Theresia thought no more of it.

She smiled mischievously,

taking it as an act of kindness on Oris's part.

The two then chatted for a while about amusing things that had happened recently,

as close and familiar as a grandfather and granddaughter.

Finally, after thanking him, Theresia left Oris's Staff shop.

After Theresia left, the alley returned to its usual quiet.

Recently, even the old regulars had rarely shown up.

Oris pushed the door open and, after confirming there was no movement around him, sat back down at the counter.

From an old rectangular wooden box beneath the counter, he took out a longsword.

If Galan had been there at that moment, he would surely have noticed

how remarkably similar the craftsmanship of the longsword was to that of the long saber he used.

It wasn't just the similar sheen on the blade.

Even the carving on the hilt depicted the same mural recorded in the mythological texts.

They were practically twins.

"It's been a long time since I last took this sword out..."

Despite his words, there wasn't a speck of dust on the sword.

Clearly, it had been well maintained.

The moment he took the hilt in his hand,

the atmosphere in the shop inexplicably turned cold.

The kindly dwarf who had been talking with Theresia just moments ago

now gripped the longsword tightly, without a trace of emotion in his eyes.

The veins on his well-honed, muscular arms throbbed, like a beast about to pounce on its prey.

"It's been a very, very long time since I last fought. I wonder if this body still remembers how to swing a sword..."

The shop door closed gently.

The sign at the entrance was turned to the side that read "Temporarily closed."

The dwarf's figure disappeared into the darkness, and no one knew where he went.