Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 61
“Mr. Charlie went alone to the completely burnt room to get something, and then we came back together,” Shivers said softly.
Eugene slammed his hands heavily on the thick wooden dining table, creating a dull thud. “My money is still with Columbus… He always carries the wallet. I said, if he loses a coin, he must pay me back double.”
The young man with perpetually messy hair sobbed, “He agreed.”
“What did he bring back?” It was a while before Dwight asked.
Shivers paused.
“Nothing at all,” he said honestly.
At that time, the rabbit-headed shopkeeper indeed came out of the castle empty-handed, and by then his expression had calmed somewhat, at least not as tense as during the hours waiting for the fire to die down, when no one dared to speak to him.
In fact, only Dr. Salman had the strength to comfort everyone, as they were all very distressed.
The magic book was destroyed. Not only could the girls no longer transform back into human forms, but even the guests who had been entertaining themselves at the castle for years weren’t spared—they did not turn into flowers but became prickly nettles.
Erica stayed there temporarily. Although the magic book in the study and the woman in the wall were destroyed, everyone agreed that it was best to close off the castle to avoid disturbing those poor girls and preventing them from resting in peace.
Eugene had cried the night before, but he couldn’t help it when Columbus was mentioned again, squeezing a handkerchief hard and blowing his nose forcefully.
This time, it was rare that the Duke didn’t criticize him for his behavior at the dining table. His attention was in another room.
Shivers understood him and ordered Shiloh to see if Charlie had gotten up.
Shiloh got up listlessly and went out, quickly returning, followed by the rabbit-headed shopkeeper.
Everyone couldn’t help but stare at him.
However, it was hard to read any emotion from that fuzzy face. It seemed that the shopkeeper had lost some weight in the past two days.
But he was already quite thin, and now he was even thinner. It seemed as though the fat on his body had been consumed by his breathing after just one night’s sleep.
“Good morning,” he said softly. “What’s for breakfast—sausages? That sounds good.” He sat down in the high-backed chair that had been left empty for him, pulled over a plate of cold fried eggs and sausages, and began to eat.
“Good morning,” Shivers said, as everyone looked at him with some concern.
Charlie seemed oblivious to the gazes fixated on his expression. After devouring two large plates of sausages and then an almond pudding, he finally stopped. He looked up with a face that seemed just to realize something, and said, “Why is everyone looking at me?”
Eugene and Shivers exchanged glances without speaking.
Dwight leaned slightly forward. “So, you left him in the castle?”
This question seemed out of the blue, but everyone present understood.
Eugene looked incredulously at the Duke (not daring to glare at him) and was silently angry at the Duke’s habit of bringing up uncomfortable topics.
However, unlike what Eugene had guessed, the rabbit-headed shopkeeper didn’t react as if stepped on. Quite the contrary, he briefly paused before putting down his silver spoon, crossed his hands on the table, and thought seriously.
It was hard for him to explain his feelings at that moment.
Probably because he had been forced to face separations and losses from birth, Charlie had gotten used to self-hypnosis from a young age, constantly convincing himself to prepare mentally in advance to avoid collapsing when the real shock came.
To him, there was nothing in the world that was irreplaceable, including his own life.
He and Columbus had been each other’s company for a long time. They were deeply attached, but when the other left this world, he felt more bewildered and empty than in pain.
Because when he returned to the fire scene, no one could understand more clearly than him that this result was Columbus’s own choice—a very firm choice.
“I didn’t leave him there,” Charlie said thoughtfully. “The castle was his destination. He just arrived early, that’s all.”
“I don’t understand,” Eugene said hoarsely.
Charlie turned his head to look at Shivers. The Knight Commander shook his head. “I don’t want to discuss this behind your back, so…”
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper nodded in understanding.
“After the fire was extinguished, I went back to the scene. Columbus didn’t leave anything behind. His tin soldier body melted into a pile of tin in the fire—okay, Eugene,” he called out understandingly, as Eugene made another loud nose-blowing sound.
“Listen to me. Miraculously, on top of that pile of tin, there was a small daisy. Not the kind with deep red or pure white with lush petals that are often seen in elaborate varieties, but a common white daisy with a bright yellow center that you often see on early spring hillsides among the weeds. We’ve all heard Columbus’s story. The daisy he took from the witch back then was a small one. I had never seen that daisy and always thought it had been lost halfway when I took him away from Doran… At that time, Columbus’ consciousness wasn’t clear enough, and by the time he fully recovered, he could no longer remember such details, so perhaps even he didn’t know that the daisy he brought out had always been hidden in his body, never withering.”
The Duke lowered his eyes. “In other words, he believed he had found his sister.”
“By age, Mistress Daisy indeed fits the bill.” The rabbit-headed shopkeeper seemed tired just after getting up. He unusually, without decorum, rested his head on the table, his voice somewhat muffled. “Little Balda… After Columbus’ accident, the entire village was affected. Remember? Columbus’ father was injured and could no longer work, and if they had to move due to the witch’s wrath, such a struggling family couldn’t afford the loss of relocating. The injured father deteriorated without treatment and died first, followed by the mother, who had to overwork herself raising her daughter, quickly worn down by life, and the little daughter eventually became an orphan, treated like cattle, and trafficked everywhere. The last time, she ended up in the hands of that mage, or rather, witch. If Balda was sensible before her parents died, she might remember or have heard from her parents about her unfortunate brother and the culprit behind her family’s collapse being a witch. She would naturally hate witches, and the abuse she suffered in the castle would deepen her hatred. When the master’s magic went out of control, she seized the opportunity, trying to make up for the suffering she had endured for many years with the magic left by the previous master, while keeping that half-dead woman confined in the sunless study room to suffer for a long time, probably… She saw this as a long revenge.”
“But, I mean, Columbus hasn’t been back to Doran for many years, right?” Eugene said with reddened eyes. “How could he be sure that was his sister?”
This question was even difficult for the rabbit-headed shopkeeper to answer.
The tin soldier’s memories were riddled with holes over time; sometimes he even forgot his sister’s name, Balda.
Assuming that Mistress Daisy was indeed little Balda, her appearance before her death—standing in the study, her hair disheveled, her skin sagging, and her eyes wild—would certainly have been completely different from the little girl who loved flowers back then.
There was no evidence, but Columbus recognized her at a glance.
Without a second thought, the tin soldier rushed in—but he didn’t try to pull Mistress Daisy out of the fire scene. Instead, he just held her tightly, very tightly.
Everyone said that the tin soldier was too simple-minded, but Charlie felt that at that moment, Columbus considered more things than anyone else.
He must have firmly believed that the study, ablaze with fire in the castle, was the final destination of his journey with Balda, which was why he made such a decision.
No one answered Eugene’s question. For a moment, everyone was silent, and the atmosphere was somewhat heavy. Charlie pushed away his plate, deciding to go out for some fresh air.
Due to the increased number of people, the wealthy Duke had booked the entire inn, giving them free use of the entire building.
Charlie went up to the top floor and found the largest balcony, where he sat cross-legged on the cold floor, watching the pedestrians come and go on the street below.
When he first entered the continent of Doran, he seemed to have chatted with Columbus on a balcony like this, watching the unfamiliar street scenes and crowds… What had they talked about? Ah, that’s right, they must have talked about little Balda. Columbus liked to talk about her.
Charlie suddenly felt a bit uninterested.
He aimlessly fumbled in his trouser pocket until a lazy voice came from behind him. “Got a hole in your pocket?”
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper stopped and turned to look. The young Duke was leaning against the balcony’s sliding door, tossing something small up and down in his hand. Seeing him turn around, he tossed it to him.
The shopkeeper caught it and found it to be a very elegant pure silver round box, with a large blue gem set in the lid, looking like a jewel box but a bit too simple in design—he flicked open the clasp with one hand and found it contained not jewels, but fine tobacco.
He lit his pipe and took a comfortable puff.
Dwight also walked onto the balcony but didn’t come too close to the railing.
He was still sensitive about his elfish rumors, to the point where he felt the urge to punch anyone who dared give him a few extra glances.
“Seeing as it’s on the account of the tobacco,” the rabbit-headed shopkeeper said with a smile, “What would His Grace like to ask?”
The Duke hesitated unusually. “Shivers thinks it’s best not to ask you any questions for now.”
“Then why did you still ask at the dining table?” Charlie took another puff of his pipe.
“Do you wish I hadn’t asked?” Dwight countered.
In Pennigra, he was a revered Duke. Apart from the Emperor of the Empire, he hardly needed to consider before speaking whether his questions were appropriate.
After their return, Charlie had gone straight to sleep for a whole day and night, and everyone was eager to know exactly what had happened in the study then, but everyone thought that this wasn’t the time to ask the shopkeeper any questions.
Only the Duke baselessly believed that the rabbit-headed shopkeeper wasn’t as averse to answering questions as everyone thought, so he spoke up.
Even his Knight Commander thought this move was somewhat inappropriate.
So he came to ask again—although his actual intention was: I spoke because I thought you weren’t as averse to this matter as they thought, and not to purposely provoke you. If I guessed wrong, then I’m just letting you know that wasn’t my intention.
Miraculously, the rabbit-headed shopkeeper seemed to grasp his central idea.
In his view, the Duke’s counter-question was almost the same as saying “sorry”.
Realizing this did lighten his mood somewhat. Of course, he couldn’t let the Duke know that he had amused him.
Charlie took another puff of his pipe.
“It’s okay,” he said slowly. “Columbus told me that no matter how many years pass, he could recognize his sister Balda at a glance. I believe him. This time, he reached the end of the journey earlier than I did. As a friend, I shouldn’t presume to feel regret for him.”
“As for asking questions… Why not ask?” The rabbit-headed shopkeeper’s gaze turned to the street scene below the balcony, and he said softly, “Although I don’t like to say it, if only I remember him, it would be too lonely. Everyone may be distressed now, but I actually don’t want Columbus to be treated as a taboo—I hope he is often mentioned and remembered. That is the only way to truly keep him here.”
The author has something to say:
The shopkeeper had previously comforted the Duke in the same way.
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