Sugar Apple Fairy Tale, Vol. 8: The Silver Sugar Master and the Gray Wolf by Miri Mikawa and Aki

Author:Miri Mikawa and Aki
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Yen On

Westol was the capital of Charmae Province, where the Earl of Downing governed. It was three days’ travel from Lewiston, which was to the south. Northern Blow, by contrast, lay just half a day’s carriage ride to the north—even less on horseback.

If the Earl of Downing was in Westol, Hugh’s letter would be in his hands by daybreak. And the old retainer was sure to be startled when he read it. He would sense the impending danger and ride to Northern Blow with an escort of soldiers. If he was quick, he could arrive that afternoon.

The bodyguards had been switching out from time to time, but Challe and Salim had remained in the same spot, guarding Lafalle’s coffin. They’d stood watch over it all night, and they were just as attentive now that the sun was high. Their toughness seemed to surprise the bodyguards.

As noon approached, Salim spoke up.

“Challe. Have something to eat. We should have some trail rations in the carriage. When you’re done, I’ll take my turn.”

Neither of them had taken so much as a sip of water since dinner the previous night. Fairies could get by on less food than humans could, but Challe still felt a little hungry. He was also worried about Anne, who was supposed to be resting in the carriage. He wanted to check on her as well.

“I’ll be back soon.”

Challe stood up straight, and Salim took the opportunity to ask him something that had been on his mind.

“Challe, what is it about that diamond? Why did you look so surprised?”

“I’ll tell you when I get the chance.”

It would be troublesome to explain. At Challe’s blunt response, Salim fell silent for a moment, then nodded.

“If you don’t feel like talking about it, that’s fine.”

It was easier for Challe to breathe once he was out of the old church’s stagnant air. It had been suffocating in there.

The carriage where Anne and Keith were resting was pulled up close to the church’s front yard. The horses had been unhitched from the carriage and tied up separately, and the wheels were secured with wheel stops. It was quiet, and wind rustled the leaves on a grove of trees above the roof of the carriage.

When Challe looked up, he saw the sky was a soft, springlike blue, with thin trails of clouds stretched across it.

Naturally enough, he was tired from standing watch all night. For a few moments, he stared absentmindedly up at the sky.

Then he heard the sound of footsteps on the stones behind him. It was Salim. He could tell immediately because the steps were careful, like a wild cat’s. Over his shoulder, Challe asked, “Did something happen?”

All of a sudden, he felt a swell of bloodlust coming from behind his back. Instantly, Challe twisted around and leaped to the side. A silver blade grazed his shoulder. He retreated farther, jumping out of the way. Planting his left hand on the ground, he looked directly at his attacker.

There, sword at the ready, was Salim.

“Salim…?”

Though his expression was blank, the murder in his eyes was clear.

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