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  As Lawrence declared his intentions, Holo hunched over, resting her chin in her hand and sighing.

  “At the very least, don’t trip as you run around so much.”

  “What, you’re not going to help? It might spell danger for our bathhouse and Nyohhira itself.”

  The villagers saw Lawrence as one of their own, since they entrusted him with bringing the coins down to town during this season, and he was so overjoyed, he became overeager. He spoke pointedly, and Holo looked at him with uncertain eyes.

  “Well then, shall I discover where they are digging holes for their baths, then cover them up, burying those people with it?”

  When Holo spoke, Lawrence flinched. Sitting there was the wolf’s avatar, a being that held more power than humans knew.

  Holo once again sighed at Lawrence’s response and reached out to pinch his beard.

  “You, still, cannot, forget, playing, the, merchant, prince, still? Hmm?”

  “Ow, stop, ouch, hey—”

  She pulled his beard, moving his face side to side.

  “Hmph. Whoever they may be, we shall always be ready, making our guests happy as we always do. Should that be enough, they will come. If not, then they will go there. Is that not correct?”

  She let go of his beard, and Lawrence looked at her again, rubbing his chin.

  The centuries-old wisewolf had appeared.

  “Well, that’s true…”

  “Very well, then.”

  Her mood completely changed, and she drew close to Lawrence.

  “Once the bathhouse empties out, won’t you spend more time with me? Our troublesome Myuri has left on her travels, you know.”

  “…”

  There was a sweet seduction that accompanied her decadent invitation.

  Lawrence wavered dizzily for a moment, then shook his head and returned to his senses.

  “It’s not just our problem. It’s the whole village’s problem.”

  He spoke as though confirming it to himself, and Holo cackled, spotting his weak restraint.

  “Well, we have no intentions to lay waste to our own territory. We shall find who it is that challenges us. That path will build competition between us.”

  Holo was worth the help of a hundred people.

  Lawrence gently adjusted the shawl on her shoulders and said, “I’m counting on you.”

  In the three days it took to descend the mountain, the snow began to melt and it became much muddier. Because of that, there were many times when the wagon wheels got stuck and they were unable to move, but passing travelers helped them, and they finally made it to Svernel during an afternoon.

  “Hmm…I’ve become a muddy rat.”

  Holo sat on the wagon and spoke disdainfully, examining her deerskin boots, thin wool trousers, and the woolen hem around her waist. As though she had anticipated it getting dirty, she stuffed the bushy tail growing from her behind into a special cloth bag like so many grapes.

  But Lawrence, standing next to Holo—who much like a princess, tended to mind even the smallest hint of dirt on her clothes—was in a worse state. He had gotten out and pushed the wagon many times as it had floundered in the mud, so he was stained from head to toe, to the point where dried mud fell from his hair in flakes when he shook his head.

  “I want to take a bath as soon as I can…”

  “I, too, wish to care for my tail.”

  Lawrence asked himself whether he was doting on Holo a bit too much.

  Then, after the soldiers guarding the city walls pitied the pair for their sorry state, they entered the town of Svernel.

  There was still some snow here and there in town, and the streets were muddy. Of course, the wheels did not get stuck this time, but there were so many people and mud splashed everywhere, so everyone walking around had mud up to their knees. No one seemed to mind, since it was the time of year when there was no use worrying about it.

  Holo watched all this, and her expression suggested she would not dare leave the driver’s perch, as she cradled her pride, the beautiful tail stuffed in the bag.

  “Okay…For now, we need to go to the money changers’ association, but I hope we can get there all right.”

  It had been several years since he was last here, and the town had quickly developed and was rather different. Business was booming here, and Svernel grew. A new city wall encircled the old one that had protected the town when they first visited over ten years ago. And there were plans to build an even bigger wall. Gaudy mansions lined some paths, and street stalls stood packed together on the large avenues.

  Lawrence had some trouble controlling the horse in the crowds, and when they finally reached the money changers’ association with uneasy movements, he was covered in sweat. Holo, still on the perch, did not seem to understand why he was so sweaty as she handed him a handkerchief.

  He wiped his face and did his best to at least clean off the mud from his clothes. Currency exchange was the center of the economy, and its practitioners held esteemed places in every town. The association building here, too, was an impressive five stories tall. Lawrence cleared his throat and worked up his courage, so as to not be overwhelmed by its presence, then called out through the door.

  “Excuse me!”

  But there was no answer, and no response even when he knocked on the door. With no other choice, he opened the door and peeked inside, when a humid heat wafted into his face. It was busier inside than the bustling streets outside, and the money changers, who all seemed to have gathered from throughout the town, were clinging to desks stuffed into the hall. They all fixed their attention on the scales, as though taking part in some sort of ritual, and were writing things down. Lawrence recognized that the hard smell was one he had just experienced a scant few days ago—the smell of many coins.

  “Excuse me!” he called out once more, and finally, an elderly money changer, sitting at a desk near him with dark circles under his eyes, yelled back at him.

  “This isn’t the inn! That’s the next area over!”

  The old man likely knew immediately that he was a traveler from outside the walls when he saw Lawrence’s appearance.

  “No, I’ve come from Nyohhira! I’ve brought goods!”

  After Lawrence spoke, the atmosphere suddenly changed.

  Everyone looked as though they had seen food for the first time in three days.

  “Nyohhira?! He said Nyohhira!”

  “The coins! Have you brought the coins?!”

  “Where are they? Bring them in now! Do you have bronze jinie pieces? Give us everything you have!”

  “Bring silver debau here! No, any silver piece will do! Our exchange might collapse at any moment!”

  Just as he was almost swallowed up by the sea of pushy money changers, there came an iron pot’s deafening clatter.

  “Calm down! We will distribute coins as agreed!”

  He heard the voice emanating from the farthest place inside the first-floor hall, a step above everyone else. There was a rotund, elderly money changer, who had a magnificent white beard that reached his chest.

  “First, show our guest some hospitality! Our association’s reputation depends on this!”

  He was likely the president of their organization, and when he spoke, the ghastly money changers hesitantly returned to their places. Instead, a youth who appeared to be the chore boy approached him unsteadily. He was clearly sleep-deprived, and his fingers were coated black from handling too many coins.

  He shook his head lightly, and it seemed as though numbers would fall out of his ears.

  “C-come this way, please…”

  He spoke uncomfortably, as though he had not spoken for a long time or he had talked too much and his voice had gone hoarse, and unsteadily led Lawrence outside. Had his breath not produced white clouds, it would have been easy to think he was dead.

  The boy walked alongside the building for a bit, then used his entire weight to open a large, grated door. There, carved out from some building�
��s first floor, was a large passageway that led to a courtyard.

  Prompted by his guide, Lawrence brought in his wagon and found himself relieved by the firm sensation the stones provided under his feet. The right-hand side of the passageway connected to the hall where he encountered the busy associates from earlier, and it was evidently built for unloading goods. Since this was a place with lots of snow, it was designed so that they could receive aristocrats or exchange goods without them getting dirty here.

  Before long, the door connecting to the hall opened, and out came the elderly money changer who had yelled earlier, with an attendant in tow. The boy called him “president,” so he was indeed the money changers’ association leader.

  “Well then, apologies for earlier. Everyone’s been working all day and night, and some are going crazy.”

  “With the town this busy, that’s something I can understand.”

  Above them, there was an elevated footbridge, and from the dim passage he could clearly see the endless flow of jam-packed people.

  No matter how many coins he tossed to them, they would swallow them right up.

  “I don’t mind how the town grows every year, but we can only handle so much activity. But I’m really glad you came when you did. The coins are gone from the money changer’s vault—it’s like a bakery without bread.”

  Of course, I’ve come aiming exactly for this time, was something he should keep quiet about to maintain their amicable relationship.

  “And as with every year, you wouldn’t mind if we hold on to goods besides the coins, yes?”

  “Yes, I know it’s such a busy time for you, but…”

  “Ha-ha-ha. In return, we’ll have you working hard during the festival! And this year, they’ve sent quite a young fellow! How reassuring!”

  The president patted Lawrence’s shoulders as he spoke, his hands sturdy enough to bend a thin coin. On his fingertips lay a money changer’s years of experience dealing with various currencies.

  “Well, we can talk about that once you wash off the dust…no, the mud, I believe, from your journey. Business can wait until after you’ve cleaned up. It is my honor to draw the waters for the bath of someone from Nyohhira, a village famous for their hot springs.”

  The president gave a loud laugh. Lawrence respectfully accepted the gracious offer.

  “Tell the boy to picket the horse in the courtyard. We have a room ready for you, so feel free.”

  Everything had been taken care of. Though for a moment, Lawrence hesitated entering the association building with muddy shoes. Quietly peeking into the hallway, he could see a muddy dog and roaming chickens milling about, so he was relieved. Though the animals likely came in following the heat, they were also after the leftovers that the money changers left behind as they worked. When Holo passed them, the dog crouched in surprise and fluffed up his tail.

  Lawrence and Holo were led to a beautiful room on the second floor. The furniture was exquisite, and the association’s wealth was ostentatiously on display. Opening the wooden window and scanning the street below, he could see how tightly packed the crowds were and wondered how he managed to weave the wagon through the gaps.

  It was busy, it was chaotic, and it was filled with life.

  “This is going to be a fun stay,” Lawrence murmured and breathed in the town air.

  Lawrence received plenty of hot water for a bath, and after washing off the mud, he finally felt revived. His clothes were also muddy, but all he could do was wash his coat and dry it on the stove before he slept. For now, he brushed off what mud he could, and a nostalgic smile grew on his face.

  “Is something funny?”

  Holo, gazing out the window, had noticed and turned around to face him.

  “Well, I remember when I was a fledgling merchant, I brushed off fleas or lice or something like this once.”

  Holo suddenly made a disgusted face and hid her bushy tail behind her.

  “Refrain from coming near me.”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  He tried to reassure her, but Holo did not change her doubtful face and looked away in a huff.

  Then, she leaned against the window frame and stared outside reproachfully.

  As Lawrence thought about what an oddly bad mood she was in, she groaned.

  That was when he finally realized…

  “If you want to catch a rabbit, you have to stick your hand into the rabbit hole, even if it means crawling on the ground.”

  She wanted to go shopping among the crowded stalls, but she did not want to get muddy while doing it.

  Every day, she combed out her beautiful tail, arranging how the hair lay, and oiled it to a glossy sheen.

  She turned to Lawrence slowly, her reddish eyes watering, looking up toward him.

  “…You want me to buy things for you? But I just cleaned myself…”

  Holo’s face suddenly brightened. Lawrence thought himself wretched for being so easily moved by her acting. He shook his head and steeled himself.

  “You’ve been a bit too lazy ever since Myuri left.”

  The other bathhouse owners lamented that their cute wives transformed once they had children, but Holo did not change much. At best, one could say there were quite a few times where she maintained her dignity as a wolf around Myuri.

  But now, even her mending was completely falling apart.

  “Even though, when I first met you, you had a maiden’s heart and wished to keep our relationship simple…”

  His wife spoke, hugging her tail and hiding her mouth, with a sad expression on her face.

  Lawrence put his hand to his forehead and covered his eyes, since her move was so effective.

  It was long ago that he was afraid he would grow bored of his relationship with Holo as the months and years passed. As he got older, he felt as though he was growing more susceptible to Holo’s wiles. Though his daughter Myuri was cuter, Holo was different and knew all the ways she could push him into submission.

  He sighed and gazed out the window, standing next to her.

  “So? Which stall do you want me to go to?”

  Holo beamed and took Lawrence’s arm. She wagged her tail and leaned out the window.

  “Mm, there is fried lamprey, and rabbit stew, and a pie shop that uses plenty of pig fat, then, over there—”

  He gazed at her from the side as she talked happily and did not bother to listen.

  When he was going to kiss her cheek, she suddenly slapped him.

  “Are you listening?!”

  “…”

  Fair words fill not the belly.

  Like a trained dog, he looked to the shops that Holo pointed out and noted her orders.

  Though Lawrence had many things to do in Svernel, Holo sent him on her errands. He did think it was for the best if she stayed in a good mood.

  He exited their room and went down the stairs, taking the chickens that would not give way and guiding them into the hallway’s corner. It was when he put his hand on the door of the passageway that led to the courtyard—

  “Oh, are you going out?”

  From the passage facing the workroom came the white-bearded president. He was wiping his hands with a handkerchief, so he must have been on break.

  “Yes, we have not eaten yet, so I was planning on going out to buy something.”

  It was the courtesy for a traveler to prepare their own food when borrowing a room.

  “Oh! In that case, would you like to join me? Let’s send the boy to do the shopping.”

  Accepting offers of hospitality was courtesy as well. It would be much too brazen to order the things that Holo wished for at this point, so he remained silent. The association president seemed rather old, so it would likely end up being food that differed from Holo’s preferences. He turned his thoughts to figuring out how he would convince Holo to bear with it, but his fears turned out to be groundless.

  “Well then, don’t hesitate and help yourselves! I’m sorry it’s such a filthy place
, though!”

  The president led him and Holo into an inner room on the first floor, and it was likely a dining hall or meeting room for the association members most days. The room was filled with cargo, and the goods from Nyohhira were in there, too; this was just a portion of the goods that passed through the town in this season. Of course, the scale was incomparable to Nyohhira.

  And atop the table was another mountain—a huge variety of oily foods.

  “I’m sure you are tired from traveling during this time of year. And we want you to work hard preparing for the festival! Eat your fill as you please!”

  The president’s voice was rather loud. He may have been used to raising his voice in the workplace, but he was probably this energetic all the time. At any rate, there was a thick cut of smoked venison that had Holo’s eyes sparkling, and she boldly stuck a knife into it and took a bite. Had Lawrence met her at an inn, he would have thought she was a bandit chief.

  “Are you all right with ale to drink? We have wine, as well.”

  Since it was not possible to harvest grapes in cold areas, wine must have been an expensive import. Lawrence’s former merchant nature kicked in and he tried to restrain Holo, but she luckily chose the cheaper ale. Of course, she was not being modest. She simply thought that ale was more suited to a table filled with greasy foods. Naturally, it did not seem as though she would restrain herself when it came to food.

  “Ba-ha-ha-ha! That’s a good way to eat!”

  Holo garnished a boiled sausage, which was so stuffed with meat it seemed to be bursting, using plenty of mustard and bit into it. The only ones who would be complimented on their restraint would be the aristocratic ladies. Common folk had fewer standards of evaluation—eat well, drink well, and work well.

  “But really, it is an honor as a money changer to sit and feast with you like this, Mr. Lawrence!”

  “No, please.”

  Lawrence began to feel embarrassed, but something confused him.

  He was going to finally introduce himself to the president, but instead Lawrence heard his name first.

  “I’m sorry, have we met somewhere before?”

  He would never forget so easily such a rotund, white-bearded money changer. Then, the association president bit into meat still on the bone and washed it down with ale before laughing.