Chapter 17: Talk to Sierra and Aruna.

Having finished washing their bodies, Sierra and Arna were now together—soaking in the bathtub.

Sierra rarely had the chance to bathe in hot water, and though her expression remained as blank as ever, her cheeks were faintly flushed.

Her long hair had been neatly tied up by Arna.

Right now, Arna was asking about Sierra’s life before coming to the academy.

“So you’ve actually been to the royal capital before, Sierra-san?”

“Yeah, once in a while. It’s been a long time, though.”

“And before that, you were on another continent?”

“A little while ago, yes. But I was on this continent too.”

“I see.”

Sierra had traveled to many places as a mercenary, but she always framed it as simply tagging along with her father’s work.

Ains had told her to describe it that way.

Sierra understood why.

Since Ains had retired from mercenary life, she was supposed to keep the fact that she had been one a secret as well.

“…Adventuring sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

Perhaps inspired by Sierra’s stories, Arna suddenly murmured that.

Sierra tilted her head and asked,

“Does it?”

“You’re used to it, Sierra-san, so maybe everyday life here feels more novel to you.”

“That might be true.”

Sierra nodded in agreement.

Adventuring—no, life with Ains—had taken them all over the place, but in reverse, that meant rarely staying in one spot for long.

“Don’t you ever go adventuring, Arna?”

“Of course I’d like to try it someday… but it’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“Because, well… Traveling alone to all sorts of places does sound romantic, but it would definitely be tough.”

Sierra could understand that.

She herself had almost never interacted with anyone besides Ains—yet Ains had always been right there beside her.

—Right now, though, she was here alone.

“Aren’t you lonely coming here all by yourself, Sierra-san?”

“…Not really. I’m fine even without Dad around.”

That’s what Sierra said out loud, but of course she did feel lonely.

Even so, she didn’t really know how to process that feeling.

She had lived with Ains her whole life, and now they were apart—she had come all this way by herself.

Would they ever live together again someday?

Such thoughts did cross her mind from time to time.

Arna gently touched Sierra’s hair.

“…Arna?”

“I actually wanted to pat your head, but you’re injured. It’s okay to admit you’re lonely when you are, you know.”

“I’m not lonely.”

Sierra stubbornly denied it.

She sank her mouth into the water and started blowing bubbles—blub blub blub.

She might seem straightforward, but Sierra absolutely refused to show anything that could be taken as weakness.

Watching her, Arna let out a small sigh.

“There, your hair’s coming undone.”

At Arna’s prompting, Sierra straightened up again.

The way Arna paid attention to even the smallest details made her feel, from Sierra’s perspective, even more fatherly than Ains in some ways.

Of course, the only father Sierra had ever known was Ains, so she had no one else to compare him to.

Yet whenever she looked at Arna… for some reason, she wore a complicated expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“…Huh?”

“You’re making a difficult face.”

“N-No I’m not!”

“I’ve been thinking it since we met yesterday… Do you have something troubling you?”

Arna looked openly surprised that Sierra had asked.

Sierra didn’t have much experience dealing with people—but that only applied to ordinary conversation.

When it came to reading what someone was thinking or how they might act, she had instincts honed on the battlefield.

She never imagined those instincts would come in handy in everyday social situations.

“I hope this doesn’t sound rude, but… I thought you’d be a lot more oblivious, Sierra-san.”

“Oblivious?”

“Hehe, exactly like that. Anyway, I’m not worried about anything.”

Arna answered with a mischievous smile.

It felt like playful retaliation for Sierra’s earlier firm declaration of “I’m not lonely.”

Then, as if something had just occurred to her, Arna continued.

“…If anything, I’m a little troubled by the girl who insists on going out to play even when she’s injured.”

“Oh.”

“It’s you, obviously.”

Only Sierra would say something like that.

To Sierra herself, an injury this minor was no reason to stay put.

“I—”

“Sierra-san?”

Suddenly, Sierra stopped mid-sentence and stood up.

She quietly stared toward the exit of the grand bathhouse.

Arna frowned and looked the same way.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary—

“You’re not going to say you see something weird, are you…?”

“No, it just caught my attention for a second.”

“Caught your attention…? I-It’s not some scary story, right?”

“…? Arna, are you bad with ghosts?”

“D-Don’t say the word ‘ghosts’!”

Arna hurriedly put distance between them.

It was easy to tell what Arna was bad with.

On the battlefield, such weaknesses could be fatal—

(Yeah… but this isn’t the battlefield, is it?)

Sierra had stood up because she’d sensed something akin to killing intent from outside the bathhouse, but the presence was already gone.

There were no signs of any other people nearby—only Arna.

(…Was it just my imagination?)

“…Shall we get out soon? We’ll catch a cold if we stay too long. Make sure to dry your hair and body properly, okay?”

“Are you scared of ghosts?”

“That’s not the reason! I’m saying it because a certain someone might try to leave without drying off.”

“…Got it.”

Sierra answered with a slightly sulky expression, as though her next move had been predicted perfectly.