“But Adlet—”
“Why did he attempt to protect Fremy? To lure her to his side. Why did he not kill you? To beguile you. You believe he could not be the seventh because he didn’t kill you? On the contrary, he would most certainly spare you. Have you anything to say to that?!”
“But I saw his face!” protested Hans.
“You believe a man incapable of deception at the moment of his death? That’s nothing more than your pet idea!” Hans faltered. Her voice resolute, Mora said quietly, “We can no longer be picky about our methods.”
Adlet asked Fremy question after question, trying to conceive of any possible means by which the barrier could have been activated or if perhaps a Saint could have done it. Adlet didn’t know much about Saints’ power. To find out more, he had no choice but to grill Fremy.
But Fremy wasn’t very responsive, merely repeating again and again that it would have been impossible. “Why don’t you just give up?” she suggested stonily, cutting off his string of questions. “It’s over. Your suppositions are most likely wrong, and you’ve run out of places to hide. Even if you were a real Brave, there’s no way you can survive now.”
Adlet hesitated. Maybe it would be impossible to convince Fremy to cooperate with him, after all. Maybe no matter how much he talked to her, it wasn’t going to work out. Maybe it would be better to turn to someone else for help. “I can’t. I can’t give up. If I die, then the seventh will go for you next. They’ll lay the blame on you, and you’ll get killed, just like me.”
Fremy lowered her gaze in thought. She also had to be keenly aware of how precarious her own situation was. They had been speaking for a long time, and Mora could have been heading their way. Remaining together any longer could prove dangerous. Just as Adlet thought about leaving, Fremy said, “Are you going to go look for Nashetania now?” There was an expression of disgust on her face. She had hit the nail on the head. Now that Fremy was done with him, Nashetania was the only one he could count on. “You rely on Hans, then me, and next, Nashetania,” she said. “Strongest man in the world, are you?”
“I’m used to being laughed at.”
“Do you have no pride?”
“I do,” Adlet said, smiling. The effect was powerful. “The strongest man in the world isn’t the one who looks strong. The one who looks like the biggest fool is the strongest of them all. I’ll keep on struggling as long as I’m capable of it.”
“…”
“Don’t you worry. Just leave it to me. As long as I’m alive, they shouldn’t suspect you. Trust me, Fremy,” Adlet said. He turned away from her and began making his way into the forest.
“Wait,” she said. Surprised, Adlet turned.
“Trust you?” repeated Fremy. “I can’t do that. I can’t understand you.”
“…”
“How can you keep smiling? How is your spirit not broken? Why are you trying to protect me? I can’t understand a single thing going on in your mind.”
“Fremy…”
“I know the situation is dangerous. But stay here a little longer. I want to know you better,” she admitted quietly. “Maybe I can trust in you.”
Meanwhile, Nashetania and Goldof were still on the western edge of the barrier. A few wrapping papers from travel rations littered the ground nearby. Nashetania picked them up, inspected both sides, and tossed them away. Goldof searched the area, too, looking over one tree after another, investigating them for traces of anything unusual. It seemed that by losing his composure and disgracing himself, he had created a rift in his dynamic with his master. The air between them was heavy.
“Let’s give up,” said Nashetania. “We should find Adlet and protect him.” She began walking away. The two of them were far from the temple—too far to hear Adlet and Hans fighting or the two men battling Chamo after that.
“Princess, you still haven’t told me,” said Goldof. “Why do you suspect Hans?”
Nashetania turned back to him and stopped. “I suppose I’m not certain myself, either, am I? I haven’t told you the most important part.”
“Let’s run as we talk.”
The two of them jogged side by side. “There’s one thing that bothers me,” said Nashetania. “But I may just have been hearing things wrong. If it was a misunderstanding on my part, you’re allowed to make fun of me.”
“I will not. But please tell me.” Goldof nodded, encouraging her to continue.
“Do you remember when we all first introduced ourselves, Hans said, ‘Meow? She’s a bunny girl and a princess, too?’”
“Of course.”
“But that’s odd,” said Nashetania. “When Hans and Mora came into the temple, Hans called me Princess, just once.”
“Are you sure?”
“You can’t remember. But that’s understandable. We weren’t talking about anything important at the time.” Goldof tilted his head. It seemed he couldn’t recall, either.
“At first, it just felt a bit off,” she said. “It was only long after that I realized how odd it was. And the more I thought back on it, the more it began bothering me.”
“So that means…”
“He knew all along that I’m a princess but then pretended not to. Why is that?”
As they ran, Goldof considered the situation. “When Hans and Mora came into the temple, I stayed by your side the whole time. It is possible observing that led him to conclude that you are a princess.”
“That’s true. But there was one more thing. It was when Hans stopped Fremy from getting tortured.”
“What was strange about that?”
“There was something. Something wasn’t right.” Nashetania smacked her face with her palms. “Why can’t I put my finger on it? I’m so close—just a little closer, and I feel like I could figure it out!
