[V15C22] Overflowing Affection

Cyril was carried into a break room for library staff and laid down on a sofa.

His face had been covered in blood, but according to the diagnosis from Rosalie Miller, his injuries were not as bad as they looked. The bleeding came from a minor cut to his temple from falling on a staff, and a nosebleed from hitting his nose against the ground.

He was also diagnosed with mild mana exhaustion and fatigue, likely due to using the Restoration Chamber. The burden of wielding an artifact was proportional to the amount of power used.

In addition, Cyril suffered a minor sprain on a finger in his right hand from when he punched Raul. Incidentally, Raul himself was completely fine, without so much as a bruise.

“You shouldn’t work for the rest of the day. No strenuous activity, and make sure to rest properly.”

Rosalie gave one last set of instructions before departing the break room.

Currently, Raul was handling the paperwork to deposit Sophocles with the library, as well as coordinating their future plans with Louis. He had left Monica to watch over Cyril, saying, “Be sure to ask the doctor about Cyril’s condition!”

So now, Monica was seated in a chair pulled up next to the sofa.

The bandages made it a bit painful to look at Cyril’s head, but the blood had been wiped clean. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

Monica gazed at his sleeping face while fidgeting with the hem of her robe.

—— “That detachable collar you wore the other day… it really suited you… you looked c-c-cu……te.”

Just before losing consciousness, Cyril had made a comment about her detachable collar.

Monica did not know why he chose that moment to bring up the subject, but now that she had been given a moment to comprehend his words, the joy welled up in her chest.

Cyril had called her “cute” for the first time.

He said it with a deathly pale face and a strange stutter, then collapsed on his face immediately afterwards, but still.

(Being called cute makes me so happy… I get it now, Cecilia-sama.)

Monica found herself pursing her lips and wiggling the tips of her toes. She couldn’t hold in her happiness.

(Cyril-sama also said I was “admirable”.)

She had been worried that Cyril might come to hate her, so this was a big step forward.

Before Monica knew it, her lips had curved into a smile and she let out a giggle.

As she savored this delight, the curtain on the window swayed slightly, allowing a narrow beam of sunlight to land on Cyril’s hair.

Even though it was summer, Cyril’s hair had always reminded Monica of fresh snow. Their glistening smoothness was like a pile of untouched snow early in the morning.

That gave her the urge to touch it.

(Just a little bit… a little bit…)

Making excuses to herself, Monica gently ran her fingers through the hair spread out above his pillow.

(…So pretty.)

The silky threads of silver flowed through her small fingers.

The texture filled her chest with bliss, like a gentle flame warming her heart.

She was not combing through his hair or anything like that. Simply touching someone’s hair did not serve any purpose.

However, people perform these sorts of meaningless actions when their love for someone starts overflowing. They can’t help it.

Monica realized that for the first time.

＊　＊　＊

Meanwhile, Cyril Ashley regained consciousness to the sensation of something touching his hair.

His eyes half-opened to see a hazy image of Monica running her fingers through his hair.

She seemed completely absorbed in the act, like an immersed child, so she had yet to notice that Cyril was awake.

Cyril could tell his hair was a tangled mess, so she must have decided to comb it for him. He quickly closed his eyes again.

(I manage to call her cute, right…!?)

His memories seemed to contain the moment he said the word, but it was too hazy to be sure.

Even assuming his memory was correct, the word had come out incredibly awkward.

(If I did call her cute, then saying it a second time is practically an admission to having ulterior motives… I mean, I do have them… I want Monica to return my feelings… So did I say it or not…?! Which is it…?!)

It was too awkward to get up now, so Cyril had no choice but to continue pretending to be asleep. Until eventually, the door swung open with force.

“Monica! Did Cyril wake up yet?”

Cyril felt Monica’s fingers withdraw.

Saved. Now was his chance. Cyril quickly opened his eyes and sat up.

＊　＊　＊

The instant Monica heard Raul’s voice, she immediately pulled both hands back.

At the same moment, Cyril sat up.

“I just woke up.”

Monica pressed her lips together with her eyes swimming.

(Did he notice me touching his hair? …I-It should be fine, right? Cyril-sama said he just woke up, so everything is okay… Ugh, I’m sorry for touching your hair without permission…)

While Monica was silently panicking, Raul dragged a chair over.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” Raul said, sitting down and rolling his shoulders. “Anyway, the cleanup is all done. Louis-san took care of the seal inspections.”

Louis, a master of barrier magic, and his wife Rosalie, a doctor, were exactly the people they needed help from. It was practically a miracle that they bumped into them right outside the Forbidden Archives.

However, this miracle came with a price… Louis’s vacation.

“…H-How mad was Louis-san?”

Monica asked with a pale face, and Raul replied with a sheepish smile.

“He demanded vacation time, booze, and jam. I’ll have to make a whole lot of jam when I get back.”

In that case, it was Monica’s job to take care of the paperwork and allow Louis to go on a makeup vacation.

Just like Monica and Raul were excited about the sleepover, Louis must have been looking forward to spending his vacation with family.

“Well, I’ve reported everything to the library and put Sophocles back. Now that Cyril is up, we’re free to go home.”

“I see. Then I’ll finish up my afternoon work and we can head over to… Oh no.”

Cyril glanced at the clock on the wall and froze in the middle of getting out of bed. He had probably missed the scheduled time for his afternoon task.

“Cyril-sama, um, the doctor said no work today…”

“Yeah, yeah, you can push whatever you had this afternoon to another day. It’s almost evening now.”

Despite the warnings from Monica and Raul, Cyril placed a hand on his forehead in an expression of frustration.

“W-Was it something important…?” Monica asked.

Cyril returned a small, solemn nod.

“I was supposed to read to Zoe today…”

“…”

“…”

And so, the storytime session by Artifact Management Officer Cyril Ashley had to be postponed. It was recorded that Gluttonous Zoe repeatedly screamed “LIAR! LIAR!” until Cyril promised to read five books next time to make up for it.

＊　＊　＊

Raul’s house was within walking distance from the library, but they decided to take a carriage instead. All three of them were completely exhausted.

After nearly dozing off in the carriage, the three stepped out in front of the detached workshop of the Roseberg estate.

Monica looked up at the building and reflected back on how long their day had been.

Raul seemed to share the sentiment, as he was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“We’re finally home…”

“…Yes.”

Monica nodded with heartfelt agreement. They were home. This was different kind of relief than the when they escaped ‘The Botanical Specimen Garden’ and returned to the Forbidden Archives.

Of course, this was Raul’s home, not Monica’s. But she also felt a strong sense of home because of the smell of soup drifting out the window.

(I’m finally home…)

Meanwhile, Cyril approached the sleepy Monica and Raul with concern.

“Are you two okay?”

“Don’t give me that,” Raul retorted. “You can barely stand straight yourself, Cyril.”

“I’m only a little tired… Monica!?”

Monica almost stumbled from exhaustion, so Cyril and Raul hurriedly grabbed her arms from the sides.

Monica let out a weak gasp and blinked her drowsy eyes.

“Ah… sorry… The smell of dinner made me feel safe, so…”

She looked ready to fall asleep any second, so Raul rushed to open the door. Monica and Cyril wobbled in after him.

Isaac was probably in the dining room, so the three headed there first. But once they arrived, they could only widen their eyes at the sight before them.

Isaac was slumped over the dining table, fast asleep. His golden hair and white shirt were bathed in the orange glow of the evening sun streaming through the window.

The black cat curled up at his feet was Nero. Judging by the satisfied expression on his face, he’d likely already been treated to a hearty helping of meat. He must have remained in cat form because Raul didn’t know his true identity.

The table had several small pots and bowls covered with cloth, with a white weasel and a golden weasel sitting next to them.

Cyril raised an eyebrow and scolded the weasels.

“Thule, Pikeh, don’t sit on the dining table.”

“We’re guarding the tasty stuff,” Pikeh said.

“The table is nice and cool too, so you can sleep soundly,” Thule followed.

“What are you talking about…?”

Ignoring the confused Cyril, the golden weasel continued in a stern tone, giving off a strange air of solemnity.

“I, Ice Spirit Ashelpikeh, have fulfilled my promise.”

“Again, what are you talking about…?”

Cyril placed a hand on his bandaged temple to hold back a headache, stumbling into the seat across from Isaac. He leaned back against the chair with a long sigh. As much as he hated to admit, he was also exhausted after the tumultuous events of today.

The table seemed cooler than usual, perhaps due to Pikeh’s power. It would probably feel nice to lay one’s head on it.

Raul slid into an empty seat and pressed his cheek flat against the table.

“Ah… it’s so cool and comfy…”

He continued murmuring to himself, but before long, his murmurs turned into soft snoring.

Cyril started dozing off in his chair, and Monica was reaching her limit too.

She mustered the last of her strength to raise her head slightly and greet her disciple.

“Ike, I’m home.”

After putting on a weak smile, she promptly collapsed onto the table. The cool air from Pikeh felt pleasant against her exhausted body.

She would just take a quick nap, eat a delicious meal, then go to sleep for the night.

Tomorrow was another day off. She’d help Isaac with cooking, make jam for Louis, and play board games with everyone.

＊　＊　＊

About ten minutes after Monica and the others returned, Isaac Walker woke up and spotted the three of them sleeping with their heads on the dining table. He quietly muttered, “Oh dear.”

It seemed he had taken quite a long nap.

Monica was in the seat adjacent to him. She seemed to be mumbling something in her sleep. How adorable.

As much as he wanted to carry her to the sofa, that was likely to wake her up. In which case, it was best to let her sleep until dinner time.

Across from him, Cyril was bent against the table at a remarkably neat 90-degree angle, and beside him, Raul had his arms sprawled across the table. What a peaceful sight.

Cyril’s sleeping posture was amusing, so Isaac made a mental note to tease him about it later.

One thing that caught his attention was the bandage around Cyril’s head.

(That klutz… where did he manage to fall this time…?)

Either way, that was something they could discuss over dinner.

As Isaac stretched his arms in the chair, he noticed the golden weasel looking up at him from the table.

“Was it comfortable?”

“Very comfortable. I accidentally let myself fall into a deep sleep.”

This was the Roseberg estate, enemy territory, so he couldn’t afford to let his guard down.

Isaac put on a wry smile and tapped the pocket watch in his coat. Apparently, Wildianu was still inside the watch.

“You could’ve woken me up, you know?”

“I am quite capable of keeping watch myself.”

It seemed like his partner was being thoughtful.

Isaac glanced out the window. The sun had nearly set, and stars were already visible in the sky. About time to start preparing dinner.

(But before that…)

He turned to the sleeping Monica again. Her hair was a bit messy, so she must have been moving around a lot.

“Welcome back, my esteemed master.”

With a gentle smile, Isaac playfully poked a loose strand of Monica’s hair.

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