An Afternoon in the Place of Rest

Freya looked at the two embracing, a happy and content smile spreading across her face.

"Very nice."

The smile was gentle, and her golden eyes shimmered with a warm glow, like dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves in the afternoon.

Lowell released his arms from Frieren, turned his face away, and gave a muffled hum through his nose.

"Of course, isn't that only natural? Frieren is mine..."

He answered quickly, his tone carrying a hint of smug satisfaction at being recognized, yet he tried hard to appear nonchalant. His hand, however, remained holding Frieren's, his fingertips unconsciously tracing her knuckles, unwilling to let go.

Frieren let him lead her, and with her other hand, she produced a small glass jar containing a pale blue, jelly-like substance from somewhere. She gently pried open the lid with her fingernail, and a rich, sweet aroma with a starlight-like glow wafted out. She picked up the small silver spoon attached to the jar, scooped out a small piece, put it in her mouth, and squinted her eyes in satisfaction.

It's a special edition Mercury Pudding.

Freya's gaze shifted to Lowell.

"How are things?"

"Not bad. I eat and sleep well... it's just that some strange things always seem to come knocking on my door. But I'm used to it. How about you?"

"I'm not bad either, well, if dying counts as not bad." A playful smile curved her lips. "At least I slept soundly?"

The last sentence had a slightly rising tone at the end, like a little joke. There was no gloom in his golden eyes, only a clear, calm, and even slightly teasing expression.

Lowell looked at her and remained silent for two seconds. Then, he clicked his tongue softly, didn't continue the conversation, and simply looked away.

The wind rustled through the drooping branches of the World Tree, creating a soothing sound, as if the giant tree itself was sighing silently.

Freya's gaze passed over Lowell and landed on the glass jar in Frieren's hand. Its pale blue luster looked particularly alluring in the soft daylight.

"Does Lady Frieren still love Mercury Pudding so much?"

Of course.

Lowell answered immediately, his tone confident, even somewhat matter-of-fact. He raised his hand, making a small circle with his thumb and forefinger.

"My eyes light up every time I see desserts at a shop. I've been eating them for ages and I never get tired of them. Sometimes I can even eat a whole one right after a meal."

He seemed to remember something, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously twitched upwards.

"Oh, right, last time in the Royal Capital of the Central Lands, we passed by a famous old shop, and she stood in front of the window for a full ten minutes. In the end, Fern couldn't stand it anymore and went in to buy three. But she ate them all in no time and wanted more, so Fern just dragged her away, haha."

Freya chuckled softly, her laughter like the wind rustling through bellflowers.

"That's wonderful. To be able to continue liking what you love." She said softly, her gaze gentle.

Freya listened, her smile deepening, her golden eyes curving into crescents. She gently covered her mouth with the back of her hand, letting out a soft, breathy laugh.

"Then..." she blinked, then asked, her tone almost overflowing with mischief, "Still love sleeping in so much?"

"Of course!"

Lowell seemed to have finally found common ground, and immediately nodded, raising his voice slightly, as if to say, "You've finally hit the nail on the head."

"I can't wake him up in the morning, but if I pull him out, he falls back asleep in a second. Even when the sun's high in the sky, he's still rolling around in bed wrapped in a blanket." He gestured with his hand, his expression exaggerated, but the amusement in his eyes was undeniable. "He'd say 'just five more minutes,' and half an hour would be gone in the blink of an eye. It's making me... cough."

He stopped mid-sentence, as if realizing something, and abruptly shut his mouth, a faint, suspicious blush crossing his face. He glanced quickly at Frieren, who was munching on pudding, her emerald eyes gazing at the distant, hazy mist, seemingly oblivious to his "accusation."

Lowell coughed lightly, his voice lowered, muttering with a hint of resentment and self-abandonment:

"... It's made me like her too, always wanting to linger a little longer."

Freya's smile deepened as she looked at him.

"Have you been sleeping well lately, Master?"

"Not bad, same as always. But you, is no one disturbing your sleep downstairs?"

"It's very quiet. Occasionally, I can hear the rustling of tree roots growing, which is very soothing to the senses."

"That's good."

Is Fern the type who always worries about Frieren's daily life?

"You know all that? Waking her up Tenten, bathing her, changing her clothes, feeding her, collecting her magic books at night, and all that while keeping an eye on her, preventing her from buying weird antiques..."

"That's a guess, and it's so reliable. With Lady Frieren being taken care of, Master can have a much easier time."

"Indeed."

"Lady Frieren has always been like this; she forgets everything else as soon as she sees a spell that interests her."

"Last time, I spent three days studying a stone slab engraved with ancient runes in some ruins."

Did you find anything useful?

"Yeah, I learned the magic to make potatoes grow faster. I came back and planted a whole bunch in the backyard."

"... As expected of Frieren."

You don't sound surprised at all.

"Because it's something she would do. So, are the potatoes delicious?"

"So-so. She planted them too densely, and they're all crooked and twisted."

"But Master still finished it all?"

"... We can't let her work all this way for nothing."

"That's true."

"Master."

"Um?"

It's so good to see you again.

"... Um."

"Speaking of which, does Lady Frieren still get bitten by Mimics these days?"

"There's been absolutely no improvement."

Will she still keep getting fooled?

"Yeah. She always keeps saying 'It's so dark, it's so scary,' and last time she was even dragged for more than ten meters while she was shouting that."

"You went to rescue her?"

"I waited a while to see if she would blow it up with magic herself."

"Then what?"

She called out "Lowell" three times.

"You went?"

"Of course."

Was Frieren angry after that?

"No. She spent the whole afternoon studying the little statue she salvaged, muttering, 'Even Mimic can contain treasure!'" "Lady Frieren is always like this."

"Yes. She actually found out later; it was a variant of ancient protective magic."

"And then she was happy again?"

I ate two extra bowls of rice tonight.

"That's wonderful. Lady Frieren hasn't changed at all."

"The same as you."

Me?

"Hmm. Even though we're already... here, you're still speaking in this tone."

"Because I was talking to my master, I unconsciously reverted to my old self."

"Yeah."

"Master."

"What's wrong."

"Could you tell me more about what's happened recently? Any little thing will do."

"Frieren understands me better than before."

"Kindness."

"And I understand humanity better now."

"Kindness."

"It's even more beautiful now."

"Of course, Lady Frieren is becoming more and more beautiful every day."

"We also had a wedding."

"Wow~" Freya let out a small, surprised gasp, her eyes shining brightly.

"Isn't that romantic?"

I really want to see it.

We also went on our honeymoon.

"Wow, wow, wow!" she echoed repeatedly in an exaggerated, childlike tone, her face beaming with a radiant smile.

"I remember you didn't used to talk in such a childish tone..."

"Hmph, I've changed." She raised her chin slightly, with a touch of self-righteous willfulness.

"It must be lonely here."

"No, I feel very reassured."

"Yeah."

"Yes."

After she finished speaking, she looked up at the endless expanse of soft light above, gently divided by the branches of the World Tree. Sparse, dancing spots of light were reflected in her golden pupils, serene and vast, as if they contained the entire tranquil space and time.

Beneath the World Tree, time seems to slow down considerably. There is no intense grief of separation by death, nor the ecstatic joy of a long-awaited reunion; only a tranquil stillness, like a stream flowing over pebbles, that has been settling for too long, flows silently in this sanctuary of the soul.