22.
Thump, thump.
Inside the swaying train car, Marigold curled up into a fetal position.
The luggage compartment was packed with sleeping passengers.
With no room to stretch her legs, the stuffy, humid space felt suffocating. Marigold curled up like a hedgehog and closed her eyes.
The stench, dampness, snoring, and teeth-grinding made her want to escape immediately, yet Marigold found this sleepless night surprisingly bearable.
For her, nights like this were a time to meticulously replay memories from her past lives.
Marigold.
She began recalling the figures who had appeared in every one of her countless lives.
Whether she was poor, young, on the verge of death, or a blind, toiling worker, Lancel Dante had always appeared by her side.
After her family's downfall and her descent into poverty, Lancel had always felt like an undeserved presence in her life. Even calling it fate felt a little embarrassing, to be honest.
She needed Lancel Dante.
But Lancel Dante didn't need her.
‘Mary.’
‘Mary.’
‘Mary.’
“Ugh!”
Marigold squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears.
Lancel Dante's voice flooded her mind like a burst dam, repeating relentlessly.
Each time, it came in a different form, a different voice, seeking her out and relentlessly weakening her resolve.
"I-I've spent enough time with him in this life. I'm satisfied now. Phew."
Marigold stammered hastily, muttering to herself as if fleeing from the overwhelming memories threatening to drown her.
"We got married, traveled, and did everything I ever wanted... Now there's nothing left to wish for. Good, good. Heh heh. I've done everything I ever wanted with Sir Lancel."
In Porland.
In the firefly forest.
In the desert, the volcano, and the flower fields.
Marigold had no regrets left.
"Phew, I'm glad I lived so diligently. If I'd worked a little harder, it might have been even better... No, this is enough. I've lived plenty hard enough. This is all I need."
"Quiet! Let me sleep!"
"S-sorry."
Marigold quickly lowered her voice at the sound coming from somewhere in the luggage compartment.
‘So, Sir Lancel…’
Marigold curled up even tighter, lying down.
She gently stroked the head of Pina, the fairy sleeping soundly beside her.
‘From now on, I'll dedicate the rest of my life to you.’
A smile lingered on Marigold's lips.
‘Just like you did for me, Sir Lancel.’
.
.
.
"Mary, our lives are truly dizzying."
Lancel found himself reviewing Marigold's notebook yet again, for what felt like the hundredth time.
He scanned the list of her final wishes, each entry a simple, almost mundane desire—the kind one might experience while traveling.
Yet even these modest wishes were marked as failures more than half the time.
"They said this anemone flower field is only visible during this season. What a shame it's already fading."
"It was even more vast than the rumors claimed."
"Ugh, if only we'd come sooner..."
"We can always come back next time, right?"
The image of Marigold standing in the vast flower field, her expression tinged with a subtle melancholy, continued to haunt his thoughts.
Time.
Something regressors had in abundance.
Lancel felt no particular attachment to whether his regression cycle succeeded or failed. Frankly, he wouldn't have minded dying a meaningless death after some foolish stunt, or even burning at the stake.
‘After all, I'll just resurrect anyway!’
But Marigold was different.
Contrary to Lancel's assumptions, every moment was her last. At the festival, in the hot springs, in the flower fields—every memory she made with Lancel was being meticulously compiled into her final album.
The reason for this was obvious to anyone who saw it.
She believed she was doing it for Lancel Dante.
‘Mary, if I catch you, I won't let you off easy.’
Lancel's fists trembled. He was barely restraining himself from delivering a swift blow to the top of Marigold's head.
He desperately wanted to punch this arrogant rookie regressor who had acted without consulting him, doing things he hadn't asked for.
He'd been holding back this knuckle sandwich for months now.
"Lancel Dante, it's pointless to say this now, but what you've done could easily be considered treason against the Imperial Family. If I report you, you'll be burned at the stake immediately. Keep that in mind."
"That's certainly 'coming too late,' Your Highness. Technically speaking, you're currently being kidnapped by me."
"Kidnapped... I was prepared to endure anything to secure someone's loyalty, as it's always a difficult task. But I never wanted to suffer such humiliation, Lancel Dante."
Lancel glanced sideways at the woman beside him on the carriage seat, dressed like an ordinary peasant woman.
Through the veil covering her face, a glimpse of blue hair peeked out.
"Think of it as life experience," Lancel said. "After all, the Empire's days of comfort are numbered. There will be plenty more days of humiliation ahead, perhaps even death if we're unlucky."
"Heh, have you ever heard the saying that for those in power, living even a single day without it is more terrifying than death itself?"
"Those people must be exhausting. Even fearing death alone is enough to keep one busy, yet they find something even more terrifying in their lives."
"Exhausting. Exactly. You understand well. This is all just a life of self-inflicted suffering."
It was then.
Lancel halted the carriage he was driving.
"Halt!"
Armored knights blocked the road.
"We're searching carriages passing through this area. Cooperate willingly."
Before Lancel could respond, the knights approached.
"What's your cargo?"
"Animal hides."
The knights flipped over the animal hides piled in the back of the carriage, searching for something.
"You there, Madam, show your face."
"She's my wife. Is this really necessary?"
"Wife?"
The knights frowned.
It was against knightly etiquette to demand a strange woman reveal her face.
"Hmm. Wait here for a moment."
At that moment, the woman beside Lancel chuckled softly.
"They're the Imperial Knights. What will you do, Lancel Dante?"
Lancel remained silent.
"What if I were to scream right now? You'd be branded a traitor instantly, wouldn't you? A bandit daring to kidnap a member of the Empire's noble bloodline."
Lancel didn't respond.
He already knew what choice she would make.
"Aaaah! A rogue kidnapping the princess! Knights, kill him immediately! Rescue me!"
"...?"
"What was that...?"
"What did she just say...?"
The knights were collectively stunned.
"Save the princess!"
Lancel had fallen victim to this woman's schemes more than once. He cursed inwardly as he drew his sword.
His opponents were only a dozen or so knights, but there was likely a larger force nearby. If reinforcements arrived, things would get complicated.
Swish!
The gleaming blade flashed through the air, scattering the bewildered knights. Two knights who had climbed onto the carriage were instantly knocked off.
"Ugh!"
"T-this bastard drew his sword!"
Lancel lashed the horses. The pair reared up on their hind legs and bolted forward.
The knights blocking the path were caught off guard by the sudden start and sent flying by the charging horses.
"Ugh!"
"They're getting away!"
"Catch them! Hurry!"
The shouts faded into the distance.
He could see figures galloping after them in hot pursuit.
Right beside him, the woman who claimed to be a princess was clutching her stomach and laughing.
"AHAHAHAHA!"
Thwack!
Even as crossbow bolts flew around the carriage and embedded themselves into the wood, she was wiping tears from her eyes, clearly amused by something.
"Lancel Dante, you're a rogue who dares to draw your sword against royalty and humiliate us, but you're surprisingly fun to tease. I quite like you."
"If you don't want an arrow in your head, you should keep your head down."
"You'll protect me anyway, won't you?"
No sooner had she spoken than Lancel raised his arm and shielded the back of her head.
His gauntlet deflected the incoming crossbow bolts.
"Magnificent! You were like a knight from a story, Lancel Dante."
"...Are you out of your mind? I'm keeping you alive because you're essential to Marigold and me."
"Hoho. Marigold, you truly are a blessed woman. When I was young, I too dreamed of a romance with a knight like you."
"......"
23.
"...You know Sir Lancel?"
Upon arriving in the capital, Marigold immediately sought out Baron Ibil Shen, a figure who often appeared in her memories.
"I'm attending the Imperial Ball next week and need some funds. About five gold coins... Please charge it to Sir Lancel Dante's account for now."
"So, you're... you're asking to borrow money from me? This suddenly? At dawn?"
"Yes."
"...But we've never met before?"
"Yes!"
Baron Ibil Shen broke into a cold sweat.
A woman had knocked on his door in the middle of the night, abruptly mentioned Lancel Dante's name, and demanded money.
Her demeanor was so confident, it was as if she were retrieving something she had entrusted to him.
"Gold coins, I'll borrow them."
Baron Ibil Shen, taken aback by her audacity, began to wonder if he truly owed her the money.
"Five coins, you said?"
"Yes!"
"...But why do you need such a large sum to attend the Imperial Ball?"
"Well, to buy a dress, accessories... um... and since I'm in the capital, I'd like to try some of the local delicacies..."
Baron Ibil Shen narrowed his eyes.
Someone borrowing money by invoking the name Lancel Dante couldn't possibly be a commoner. After all, no commoner would know about the Dante family's debt of gratitude to him.
She seems like a sheltered noble lady, completely out of touch with the world...
Yet her appearance was rather shabby, bordering on destitute.
"We should at least write up a promissory note."
"Of course! I'll definitely repay you later. Ten times... no, twenty times the amount!"
"...I'm not usually one to lend money to just anyone..."
Despite a lingering unease, Baron Ibil Shen handed her the gold coins and the promissory note.
The name on the signature line read "Marigold Curtain Marigold." It sounded vaguely familiar yet foreign.
"This name... I feel like I've heard it before. Have we met somewhere?"
"Ah, no, this is our first meeting."
"...Is that so?"
"Thank you so much! I'll definitely repay you!"
The woman named Marigold quickly hurried away.
"...?"
Having been swindled out of five gold coins by a complete stranger, Baron Ibil Shen remained unsettled all day.
After returning to bed, he was awakened the following evening by a loud knocking.
Knock knock!
Someone had come to his mansion again.
"I've come to borrow some money."
"...Sir Lancel?"
This time, Lancel Dante himself was knocking on his door.
"Give me money. Money."
"It's the middle of the night..."
"Five gold coins. I'll repay you tenfold in five years. Just give it to me now. Quickly. Immediately."
"...Since you've come all this way, why don't you come in and have some tea first?"
"I'm a bit busy. I'm planning to attend the Imperial Ball, so I need to start preparing now. And get some good food."
"...Again?"
"Huh?"
Baron Ibil Shen slapped his own cheek, looking bewildered. He seemed to be wondering if this was all a dream.
"What are you doing?"
As Lancel Dante's expression turned strange, Baron Ibil Shen hurriedly spoke up.
"Ah, I'll lend you the money. You're a member of the Dante family, so I can trust you. It's not like you won't repay me, right?"
"......"
"You will repay me, right?"
"......"
"You will repay me, right...?"
"Just give it to me already."
Baron Ibil Shen finally handed over the gold coins.
Lancel Dante casually pocketed it, moving with the ease of someone who had borrowed money from him many times before, as smoothly as flowing water.
"......Has word gotten around that I'm an easy lender? Someone else came yesterday asking for money, also claiming to be from the Dante family."
"What are you talking about?"
"The reason for borrowing was the Imperial Ball, just like you. It's like I'm possessed by a ghost, honestly. Despite my reputation for being notoriously stingy in the capital, it's as if someone spread rumors about me being a money tree or something..."
Lancel Dante's eyes widened.
"Did someone come by? Tell me their name."
"Huh? Uh... who was it again? Me... Mary... Marigold?"
By the time the name left his lips, Lancel Dante was already gone. He vanished into the distance with the money, without even signing a promissory note.
"...?"
Baron Ibil Shen was left to endure another restless day.
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