16. Iphoe Bell. Whose coffin is this?
"...."
Dalton, who had been speaking non-stop, became quiet. He wore an ambiguous expression, as if unable to gauge what to answer.
I laid out the answer to Arwin's question instead of Dalton.
"I will not forget you."
At my words, the gazes of the two men looking at each other touched me. Smiling a faint smile, I explained to them in a little more detail.
"That is the same as the Marquis continuing to remember my name."
Arwin nodded his head faintly.
"I see."
"Will the Marquis remember me?"
"I think I might remember when spring comes and cherry blossoms fly."
"Thank you."
I was so thankful for those indifferent words saying he would remember that I felt like tears would come.
"Are you crying?"
Arwin and Dalton asked simultaneously. It was a familiar question.
I lifted my sleeve and swept the corners of my eyes. Then, this time, tear stains were really imbued on my sleeve. Tears that flowed down as soon as I thought I felt like crying.
"My tear ducts broke again after a long time."
I wiped my tears nonchalantly. The act of wiping tears seemed to have become too routine now.
Tears kept flowing down for some reason. Even if I wiped and wiped, the traces of tears were not erased from my face. Just because of a single word from Arwin that he would remember me.
Dalton approached me with the sound of a small sigh and lowered his posture. Then he swept the corners of my eyes familiarly.
"Iphoe, you are a maid who requires a lot of care."
Since it wasn't a wrong statement, I remained silent quietly.
"I like women who require a lot of care. Makes me want to look after them."
He smiled a pretty smile as if telling me to smile along with him. I smiled following his smile, hoping the aura of tears would fade.
It was at that moment that Arwin's quiet voice was heard from behind Dalton's back.
"Handkerchief."
Arwin's words were very short, like him. But I could understand at once what Arwin was saying.
It was clear he was talking about the plain handkerchief he gave me. Wasn't it meant to be used?
Regrettably, I didn't have any of those handkerchiefs right now.
Although they might be handkerchiefs without much meaning to Arwin, they had huge meaning to me. Because they were items I received for the first time from the person I loved.
Even if there is no meaning in the act of giving a handkerchief, that was more precious to me than any other item. Much more than expensive oil.
Therefore, I couldn't carry it around easily. I only kept it very extremely carefully as if enshrining a deity. Although it is a handkerchief, it cannot be used for the purpose of a handkerchief.
"I didn't bring it out."
When I answered in a voice full of tearfulness, Dalton stepped aside a little. Then Arwin's face, which had been hidden by Dalton, was fully visible.
Arwin was looking at me with his head tilted a little to the right.
"I gave you two."
"...."
I am keeping both of them well, though. I suppressed the urge to answer like that.
Dalton, who was watching our conversation with interest while stepped aside, secretly intervened in the conversation.
"Arwin gave Iphoe a handkerchief?"
He was smiling a meaningful smile.
"Yes."
"Two of them at that?"
"Probably."
"That's amazing."
A bright gleam circulated in Dalton's odd eyes. Somehow a dangerous-looking gleam. For some reason, it reminds me of the look in his eyes I saw on the day I first met him.
Instantly, I felt déjà vu. Cherry blossoms, Arwin, Dalton. Dalton's dangerously flashing eyes.
It was a feeling similar to what I saw in the dream. Then it seemed as if the smell of blood was coming from somewhere. It was a smell that didn't suit the sentiment of scattering cherry blossoms at all.
That smell full of heterogeneity continued to linger on the tip of my nose without intention to disappear.
I looked at Dalton's white hand. I wondered if that hand would cut across Arwin's chest horizontally. I couldn't forget Dalton's white hand being dyed with Arwin's hot blood.
I inhaled a long breath. My breath became short without reason.
To state the conclusion first, what I worried about did not happen. Dalton's hand didn't do a cruel thing, instead only waved in the air a few times.
The scattering rain of flowers eventually stopped.
"Picnic ends here."
Ending with Dalton's warm voice resembling cherry blossoms, our picnic came to an end.
The coffin and soap hadn't been arriving for days. Suspicion arose whether the merchant's words, said as if he would deliver them immediately, were empty promises.
I went to find Dalton to find out the reason. If it were him, I thought he would know the reason.
I walked familiarly to Dalton's room. Soon arriving at his room, I discovered his door was slightly open when I was about to knock.
His door was open last time too. It seems he has a habit of not closing doors properly.
I pushed the door slightly. Whether it was oiled so well, the door opened much more than I expected.
"Dalton?"
When I called his name familiarly, Dalton's figure was seen. He was on the bed. And he wasn't alone. He was with a certain maid. The maid and Dalton were sitting side by side on the bed.
"Ah, sorry...."
I couldn't continue my words to the end and quickly closed the door.
Did I interrupt an important moment?
Of course, they weren't doing any act. They were fully dressed. But would he be the libertine Dalton Racers for nothing?
I thought if Dalton put his mind to it, it would be a matter of time for a hot current to flow between them. Furthermore, the place they were together was on the bed. The bed is roughly the home ground of the libertine Dalton.
I let go of the doorknob and turned around. Regarding the coffin and soap, I think it would be better to ask again a little later.
How many steps did I walk like that? A voice calling my name was heard from behind my back. It was Dalton's voice, unknown when he came out of the room.
"Iphoe!"
His voice was urgent. I couldn't know what made him impatient.
I stopped walking and looked back. Whether because his legs were long, Dalton soon came right in front of me. He, who chased after me as if running, gasped for breath repeatedly. Dalton's long blond hair was utterly disheveled.
"It, it's a misunderstanding."
He said to me, gasping for breath.
"You don't have to make excuses."
Whether it was a real misunderstanding or not, there was no reason for him to tell me the truth. Since we weren't close enough to be deeply involved in each other's relationships with the opposite sex.
What was the relationship between Dalton and me? We were nothing more than a relationship where we occasionally shared sad stories and shared a few kisses.
"I mean, I had something to ask that maid so... I absolutely wasn't trying to do the kind of thing you imagine."
Dalton ignored my words and continued his excuse.
"Dalton. I told you, you don't have to make excuses to me."
At my slightly cold words, Dalton lightly grabbed my wrist. His touch felt desperate. It was a strange thing.
Dalton had warned me not to have illusions that we became a special relationship just because we kissed. I couldn't adapt to his changed attitude. And to me, not anyone else.
"Iphoe."
He called my name familiarly.
Ah, only then could I know why he tried to make excuses to me. Similar name. Situation similar to me. Perhaps Dalton recalled his lover Arabel.
"Dalton."
"...."
"I am Iphoe Bell, not Arabel. Whoever you slept with, whoever you love, it has nothing to do with me."
"Really?"
"Yes."
Dalton dropped his gaze looking at me.
"I see."
"...."
"Do you want to come to my room tonight?"
"...I, nothing."
I tried to say I couldn't do anything, but Dalton cut me off.
"I'll just hold you and sleep."
He lifted his lowered head and met my gaze. It was a weak gaze.
My heart weakened. I was originally a person very soft in this aspect. I couldn't ignore a weak gaze. I couldn't possibly bring up the words 'No' to Dalton, who had sorrowful eyes like a lost puppy.
I nodded with a light sigh. At my nod, Dalton smiled broadly.
"Thanks."
He lifted my wrist he was holding and brought it near his lips. Dalton's lips touched the back of my hand softly and soon fell off.
"By the way, you were really going to do skinship with that maid earlier, right?"
"N, no I said!"
"You can speak honestly. Since you are suddenly acting shy, I can't adapt."
"Good grief. It really wasn't."
"But if I hadn't interrupted, skinship might have been exchanged."
"...I lost."
Dalton smiled a dejected smile. Whatever he said, I couldn't fully believe Dalton's words.
He shifted the topic as if giving up on persuading me.
"By the way Iphoe, why did you come to find me?"
"Ah."
I recalled the reason I went to find him belatedly.
"Coffin. The coffin hasn't come yet. I thought you would know why if it were you."
"Ah, that coffin?"
"Yes."
Dalton answered as if he already knew the whereabouts of that coffin from a long time ago.
"That was in Arwin's room."
"Pardon?"
"I must have written the address wrong."
Dalton made a playful face as if asking when he smiled a dejected smile. Somehow very suspicious.
The coffin was really in Arwin's room.
The brown coffin placed on one side of Arwin's room, which had few pieces of furniture, looked isolated alone. Very disparate.
"Are you talking about that?"
Arwin pointed at the coffin with his index finger.
"Yes. It was really here."
I scratched my cheek awkwardly. I was half in doubt, but Dalton's words were true.
Why would someone of the level of an Archmage write the address wrong? Was that really a mistake? It was extremely questionable.
Although I didn't do anything wrong, I apologized to Arwin.
"I'm sorry. Since the address was written wrong, it seems to have come here."
"It's okay."
Arwin answered nonchalantly. At times like this, the fact that he was an indifferent man was fortunate.
Arwin, who was staring at the coffin intently, soon walked close to the coffin and lowered his posture. He glared fiercely at the coffin with the momentum to evaluate it.
"Iphoe Bell. Whose coffin is this?"
I also walked next to Arwin and lowered my posture.
"It's my coffin. It's preparing for my death."
He turned his gaze and looked at me.
"Are you, dying?
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