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Rem woke before the mansion needed to wake her.
It was habit. Not a special virtue, not something she thought of with pride, but simply another piece of her routine. Opening her eyes before the first strong light, sitting up without making a sound, checking that Ram was still resting, preparing the uniform, arranging her hair, mentally verifying the day's tasks, and leaving the room with footsteps as silent as the rest of her life in service. The Roswaal mansion needed many things before dawn: hot water, clean cloths, a check of the kitchen, the state of the provisions, the preparation of the dining room, the cleaning route for the east wing, Emilia-sama's arrangements, Roswaal-sama's schedule, Beatrice-sama's whims, and, for the last two days, the supervision of two new workers whose existence did not fit comfortably into any list.
Subaru and Link.
Rem closed the bedroom door carefully and advanced through the hallway, still dark. The mansion smelled of polished wood, clean fabric, cold stone, and sleeping ash in the hearths. Every scent had its place. Rem knew those smells the way she knew the distance between one door and another, the tilt of a certain window when the wind came from the north, the exact sound of Ram's footsteps when she was irritated but not enough to say so. That was why foreign smells were easy to distinguish.
Subaru's was impossible to ignore.
It was not the smell of a boy tired from domestic tasks. It was not sweat, or poorly used soap, or clothes that needed washing. There was all of that, yes, as with any person who worked without being used to work, but beneath it there existed something darker. Something that clung to the air like a wet stain. Something unpleasant, familiar, and abhorred. The Witch's scent. Stronger than the day before, even though he had bathed. Rem knew because she had guided Subaru to the baths and because, when she crossed paths with him afterward, the smell had still been there, less covered by common dirt and therefore clearer. It did not come from his skin in the normal way. It was not something water could remove.
That made it worse.
Subaru smiled too much, talked too much, reacted too much. He could seem like a noisy idiot, and perhaps he partly was, but Rem could not ignore that smell. Not after everything. Not in a mansion where Emilia-sama slept under Roswaal-sama's roof, where Ram still lived with a body marked by a loss no words could repair, where Beatrice-sama shut herself away in her library and Puck-sama disappeared at nightfall. Protection did not depend on believing in friendly appearances. Protection depended on noticing cracks before they opened.
And Subaru had a crack around his soul.
Link was harder.
His scent was not the same. There was earth in him, metal, wood, and the faint trace of the mansion kitchen, as if even without fully belonging to that place, he had already begun to absorb its routine. There was also a note that resembled Subaru's, though more mixed, less direct, as if a foreign shadow had brushed against him instead of covering him. Rem could not decide whether that made him less dangerous or more. Besides, there was the other thing: the nature close to the Oni, the two complete horns he had manifested at breakfast without asking for instructions, the abnormal mana reserve Beatrice-sama had mentioned, and those red limbs that did not belong to any trait of Rem's race.
Two horns.
Rem kept walking, but the word remained inside her.
Two complete horns on the forehead of someone who did not know what they meant. Two horns on a stranger who claimed to be a garden worker, who carried sacks with ease, who learned quickly, who looked at Rem as if some of her phrases mattered to him too much. Two horns on someone who did not smell of a lost village, or childhood among his own, or training, or the celebration of a proud race. His horns appeared like a tool discovered late, like an organ the body remembered but the mind did not understand. It produced in Rem a discomfort that was hard to arrange. It was not hatred. It was not acceptance. It was not simple curiosity.
It was a wound looking out from another person's face.
The morning began with the dining room.
Ram was already there when Rem arrived. Her sister moved with her usual elegance, checking the arrangement of the cutlery with one hand while holding a tray with the other. Rem felt the small relief that always accompanied seeing Ram standing, whole, breathing, even with that hidden fragility only Rem noticed at certain moments. Ram did not need protection in the way others imagined. Ram was Ram. But Rem would protect her anyway, even from the things that could not be seen.
"Rem," Ram said without lifting her gaze, "Subaru will return to interiors today. Yesterday he did not break anything important, but that should not be confused with sufficient progress."
"Yes, sister."
"Link will go outside with you. Roswaal-sama wishes for him to continue practicing physical tasks and strength control. Ram will review the results afterward."
"Yes, sister."
Ram placed a spoon in its exact spot.
"And if Link uses that red limb again, make sure he does not do it near anything Roswaal-sama appreciates."
Rem did not answer immediately.
Ram lifted her eyes toward her.
"Rem?"
"Yes. Rem will supervise him."
Ram held her gaze for barely another second. Between them, there was no need to say too much. Ram knew when Rem was thinking about something she was not saying. Rem knew when Ram decided not to ask. The morning, however, did not allow them to pause over such things.
Subaru appeared first.
He did not enter with the same overflowing enthusiasm of the first day. He walked more carefully, as if every step were calculated so he would not seem either too clumsy or too competent. He wore the apprentice uniform better than before, though not perfectly. His hair resisted order. His gaze moved too much: Emilia-sama, the table, Ram, Rem, the doors, the window, Link when he entered a minute later. Rem noticed the way Subaru breathed when he saw her. It was not only nervousness. Nor was it simple admiration like when he looked at Emilia-sama. There was alertness. A contained discomfort, as if he were waiting for a blow that had not yet happened.
Link entered behind him, in exterior work clothes and with a more sober face than the previous morning. He did not seem to have slept well, though he did not say so. His eyes stopped on Rem for barely an instant before moving away toward the table. Rem noticed. She also noticed that he avoided looking too much at her forehead, as if thinking about horns could make them appear. The way his body carried tension was different from Subaru's. Subaru trembled outward; Link pressed everything inward.
"Good morning," Emilia-sama said with a kind smile.
Subaru answered too quickly.
"Good morning, Emilia-tan. Today as well, you are a healing presence for workplace morale."
Emilia-sama blinked.
"I still don't fully understand that 'tan.'"
Puck-sama, on her shoulder, yawned softly.
"I think you shouldn't try to understand it too much, Lia. It might get worse."
Subaru brought a hand to his chest.
"Puck wounded me before breakfast."
Ram set a pitcher on the table.
"Subaru makes it easy."
Subaru turned toward her, pointing at her with an almost dramatic expression.
"Ram, since yesterday, I feel like you want to change my name to something crueler. I can see it in your eyes."
Ram looked at him.
"Barusu."
The dining room fell silent for a second.
Subaru blinked.
"What?"
"Barusu," Ram repeated with absolute calm. "It is shorter to pronounce than Subaru and more suitable for your current level of usefulness."
Subaru opened his mouth, closed it, brought both hands to his chest, and looked at Emilia-sama as if he needed witnesses to a crime.
"My name has just been attacked in the middle of the table."
Emilia-sama tried not to laugh, without much success.
"I think Ram just... shortened it."
"She deformed it! That isn't a nickname, it's a sentence!"
Ram closed her eyes.
"Barusu talks a great deal for someone who should be grateful Ram did not choose something worse."
Link, who had sat down carefully, lowered his head toward his plate, but Rem saw the corner of his mouth move. He did not seem surprised. That detail joined the others in Rem's mind. Subaru did not seem surprised by Ram's tone either, but by the exact moment. As if he had been waiting for it to happen.
"Link," Rem said, serving his portion, "today you will work first in the secondary garden. Afterward, we will review dry branches and tools."
He lifted his gaze.
"Understood, Rem."
He did not say "yes, Rem" with the immediate obedience Rem had sometimes noticed. He held himself back. That was strange too. People did not usually correct themselves before committing a habit they had not yet developed.
Breakfast continued. Subaru protested the birth of "Barusu" for several minutes, until Ram told him every extra complaint further justified the nickname. Emilia-sama laughed softly. Puck-sama commented that Barusu sounded like a small animal that stumbled a lot. Subaru accused everyone of conspiracy. Link ate in silence, more than common but less than his body seemed to ask for. Rem served him an extra portion without asking. He looked at her with a mixture of gratitude and something Rem did not wish to classify.
Then work began.
Rem took Link outside while Ram kept Subaru inside to continue his servant training. As they passed through the hallway, Rem heard Subaru's voice in the distance.
"I won't accept Barusu without a fight!"
"Then Barusu will fight while cleaning," Ram replied.
"That isn't justice!"
The door closed behind them, and the sound was left behind.
Outside, the air was fresh. The garden still held the moisture of morning, and the leaves shone with small drops under the light. Link took a deep breath when they stepped out, and Rem saw his shoulders lower slightly. The exterior calmed him. Not completely, but more than the mansion. That was useful to know too.
"It feels better outside," Rem said.
Link looked at her from the corner of his eye.
"Was that a question or a diagnosis?"
"An observation."
"Then yes. I can breathe better outside."
"Because of the smells?"
Link hesitated.
"In part. Inside the mansion, everything mixes together. Wood, fabrics, people, food, magic, old books, things I don't understand. Outside there's earth, plants, stone, water. It's easier to separate."
"It must be uncomfortable to perceive so much."
The response seemed to surprise him.
"Sometimes."
Rem said nothing more. She led him to the exterior storage room and handed him the tools. Link took them with more care than a beginner, but Rem decided not to point it out yet. She had learned something about him in those two days: if pressed too quickly, he responded with sarcasm or silence. In contrast, when given a concrete task, he worked. Better than expected. Worse than necessary for someone with so much strength. But he worked.
The first part of the morning passed normally. Link moved soil, cleaned the edge of the path, and carried sacks without breaking them. Rem corrected the pressure of his hands twice. He obeyed without arguing. That would have been pleasant if it did not seem, at times, that he was already expecting the correction before hearing it. Rem watched him as he lifted a large sack and carefully placed it on the corresponding pile.
"You do not attempt to carry too many at once," she said.
"You told me it wasn't necessary."
"Yesterday."
"I learn fast."
Rem accepted the answer in silence, though she did not stop thinking about it.
Later, they reached the area behind the greenhouse. Dry branches had accumulated there and needed to be separated. The previous day, Link had used one of his red limbs under supervision. Today, before Rem gave him instructions, he took off his work jacket and left it folded over a box. Rem stopped.
"Are you going to practice again?"
Link placed a hand on his lower back, exactly where that thing emerged.
"Yes. But this time, I'll try to use two. Only if you allow it."
Rem observed the pile of branches. There were no delicate objects around. The ground was firm. The distance from the mansion was enough that a clumsy blow would not reach a window. Even so, two limbs meant more risk than one. It meant more possibilities for his body to react before his will. It meant that, if he lost control, Rem would have to stop him quickly.
"You will do it slowly," she said.
"Yes."
"If your eyes change, you will stop."
"Yes."
"If you cannot stop, Rem will stop you."
He held her gaze.
"I know."
There was no challenge in the answer. That made Rem feel a different discomfort. Link did not seem to doubt she could do it. Nor did he seem to resent it. He accepted it as part of the agreement. As if he trusted her to hurt him if necessary.
"Do not stand near the tools," Rem said.
Link obeyed.
He positioned himself in a clear area. He closed his eyes. His breathing became slow, then heavy. Rem watched his back, the tension in his hands, the way the mana around him moved irregularly. It was not a refined flow. It did not resemble the way Ram had handled her power before losing her horn, nor the way other magic users conducted energy through a gate. It was more organic. More physical. As if mana were only part of something mixed with flesh.
The first limb came out slowly.
Red, dark, shining in a wet sort of way. Rem did not step back. The kagune rose behind Link, trembling slightly, and remained suspended like an arm too long to know its own weight. Link opened his eyes. They were still normal.
"One," he said.
"Stable," Rem replied.
Link breathed again.
The second limb came out less smoothly. The fabric of his shirt tore a little more, and the new kagune struck the ground before rising. Link clenched his teeth, but did not lose his balance. Rem took half a step forward and stopped when she saw him regain control.
"Two," Link murmured.
The two limbs moved at the same time.
Badly.
The first went toward a branch. The second went to the opposite side. Link tried to correct both and ended up making them cross in the air with a wet impact. A small branch was sent flying toward a pile. Rem lifted a hand and caught it before it passed near her face. Link's eyes widened.
"Sorry."
"Slowly."
"Yes."
"Do not try to control them as if they were the same limb."
"That's the problem. My head knows there are two, but my back thinks it's inventing something at the last minute."
Rem set the branch on the ground.
"Then assign simple tasks. One holds. The other moves."
Link looked at her.
"That... makes sense."
"Try it with one large branch. Not several."
Link obeyed. The first limb curved clumsily around a thick branch. It squeezed too much at first, and the bark creaked. Rem did not have to speak. Link loosened his grip before breaking it. The second limb approached from the other side and tried to lift. For an instant, both moved out of sync, one rising before the other, making the branch spin in a ridiculous way. Link cursed quietly in a language Rem did not understand. Then he breathed, lowered both limbs, and started again.
This time, it worked.
The two red limbs lifted the branch between them and placed it in the correct pile. It was slow, ugly, inefficient, and definitely less practical than using his normal arms. But it worked.
"I did it," Link said, as if he needed to confirm it.
Rem observed the branch.
"Yes."
He smiled faintly.
It was not a big smile. Not like Subaru's exaggerated expressions, which occupied space without permission. It was small, tired, almost incredulous. Rem felt that smile make it more difficult to look at him only as a threat.
"Another," she said.
Link blinked.
"I thought you'd tell me to stop."
"If you feel unwell, stop. If you can repeat it without losing control, repeating will help."
"Are you teaching me how to use monstrous tentacles for gardening?"
"Rem is supervising a work task with unconventional tools."
Link let out a laugh, and the two limbs trembled.
"Unconventional tools. I like that. Sounds less horrible."
"Do not get distracted."
"Yes, Rem."
This time, he did not correct the "yes, Rem."
Rem decided not to mention that she noticed.
For almost an hour, Link practiced. One limb held while the other pushed. One wrapped around small branches to group them while the other brought rope closer. Sometimes both became entangled with each other. Sometimes one reacted too strongly if Link became frustrated. Once, while trying to tie a group, he ended up making a knot so tight he had to cut the rope. Another time, the second limb rose by reflex when a leaf fell onto his shoulder, and Rem had to say his name firmly so he would not strike anything.
"Link."
Only that.
He stopped.
The limbs went still.
Rem understood in that moment that his name had an effect on him. Not in a magical way. Not like a mandatory order. But as an anchor point. When she said "Link" with enough clarity, he listened again. That was useful. And dangerous. Useful because it could help control him. Dangerous because Rem did not want the usefulness of her voice to be confused with trust.
Trust was a door that did not close properly when the Witch's scent was nearby.
In the end, Link managed to carry several groups of branches to the clearing without using his hands except to guide or tie them. He was sweating, his shirt torn at the back, his breathing heavy. The red limbs looked more stable than at the beginning, though they were still clumsy. They did not look like weapons at that moment. They looked like new arms learning how to gather firewood.
Rem did not lower her guard.
But she could not ignore the result either.
"It was useful," she said.
Link turned his head toward her. The two limbs remained suspended, as if they too were waiting.
"Really?"
"Yes. Clumsy, but useful."
Link's smile was clearer this time.
"I'll accept 'clumsy but useful.' In this mansion, that almost counts as praise."
"Ram would probably say something worse."
"Ram always says something worse."
"Ram is usually right."
"That's what makes it worse."
Rem looked at the limbs.
"Withdraw them before you tire too much."
Link nodded. He closed his eyes, breathed, and began retracting them. The process was not elegant. One withdrew faster than the other, and the second seemed to resist a little before sinking beneath the skin. Link leaned forward when it ended, resting his hands on his knees. Rem took a step, but he lifted one hand.
"I'm fine. It just... feels like exercising with muscles that shouldn't exist."
"Then you must rest."
"Yes."
She handed him his jacket. He took it carefully and covered his torn back. Rem noticed a red mark near the area where the limbs had emerged, not an open wound, but irritation. His regeneration was fast, but not perfect. Everything had a cost.
"You must change that shirt afterward."
"I know."
"You must also wash the damaged one."
"Yes, Rem."
Rem looked at him.
He seemed tired, but not miserable. That was new. The use of that red thing had not left him with the expression of a monster. It had left him with the expression of an exhausted worker after a difficult task. That altered the way she saw him, and Rem was not sure she wanted to allow it.
At noon, they reunited with Subaru and Ram.
Subaru now officially had the nickname Barusu stuck in his back like an arrow Ram had no intention of removing. Rem knew it before entering, because she heard his protest from the hallway.
"You can't use it in every sentence! That's linguistic abuse now!"
"Barusu exaggerates," Ram replied.
"Even to say I exaggerate!"
"Barusu understands quickly when his suffering is involved."
When Rem entered with Link, Subaru turned toward them with a theatrical expression of rescue.
"Rem, I need legal support. Ram is destroying my name."
"Rem considers Barusu easy to pronounce."
Subaru collapsed against the back of the chair.
"Blue betrayal."
Link, covered with his jacket over his torn shirt, sat beside him.
"Accept your fate, Barusu."
Subaru pointed at him.
"Not you too."
"I like it. Sounds like the name of a pet that steals bread."
Ram placed a plate in front of Subaru.
"Barusu would probably steal bread."
"I was going to ask for it politely!"
Rem served Link a larger portion than normal. He looked at her.
"Thanks."
"You spent extra energy."
Subaru leaned toward him, momentarily leaving behind the tragedy of his nickname.
"Did you practice with two?"
Link nodded.
"Yes."
"Result?"
"No sushi."
Subaru raised both fists with sincere emotion.
"Absolute victory!"
Ram looked at Rem.
"Damage?"
"Broken branches, one ruined rope, and one damaged shirt. Nothing important."
"Then it was less disastrous than expected."
Link took a spoonful of food.
"I will accept that as praise too."
Ram looked at him.
"You should not."
"Too late. I already did."
Rem observed the exchange in silence. Link seemed more relaxed beside Subaru, though not completely. Subaru also seemed to use jokes to cover exhaustion that was not only physical. Both of them shared something they did not say. Rem had perceived it since the first day of this new cycle: quick glances, cut-off phrases, silences when she or Ram came closer. It was not obvious conspiracy. Nor was it innocence. It was a common burden. A memory, perhaps. A secret.
And over Subaru, the smell.
Stronger that day.
Rem served water with her usual calm, but every time she passed near him, the smell scraped her throat. Subaru had bathed again in the morning, according to one of the younger maids in charge of the cloths. It had not worked. The scent persisted. Link knew it too; Rem noticed in the way his nose tightened when Subaru came close. But Link did not smell as strong. That irritated her. If both shared a secret, why was one so marked and the other not? Or was Link marked in a way Rem still did not know how to read?
The afternoon was lighter on the outside and tenser on the inside.
Subaru continued training with Ram, but Rem observed him from a distance at certain moments. He was genuinely clumsy, but not completely. Sometimes he failed at simple things and then corrected himself before receiving instruction. Sometimes he looked at Ram as if waiting for a phrase she had not yet said. When she called him Barusu for the fifth time, Subaru protested with the indignation of someone who had already prepared that role in advance. It was strange. But it was also so absurd that part of Rem understood why, under normal circumstances, someone might lower their guard around him.
That made him dangerous in another way.
Link returned to the garden with Rem after the break. He did not practice more with the kagune, by her decision. Instead, he performed normal tasks: moving soil, checking the stones along the path, sorting tools. He was tired, and because of that, he made more natural mistakes. He squeezed one handle too hard. He almost lifted a pot from its upper edge. He confused a useful herb with a weed, though he stopped before pulling it out.
"That one stays," Rem said.
Link withdrew his hand immediately.
"I knew that."
"You did not know."
"I suspected it with fear."
"That is different."
"But useful."
Rem tilted her head.
"Sometimes."
In the middle of the afternoon, Link asked permission to use the kitchen after dinner.
Rem looked at him.
"To prepare another dessert?"
"Yes. Something I already made once... back home. Lemon Carlota. Well, with those acidic fruits from here. If there are dry biscuits, sweet cream, and help cooling it, it could turn out well."
Rem felt a practical curiosity.
"Why do you wish to make it today?"
Link lowered his gaze toward the tools he was organizing.
"Because cooking calms me. And because if I do something useful that doesn't involve tentacles, maybe the mansion will trust me a little more."
The answer did not sound complete.
But it did sound true.
"Rem can supervise the kitchen if Ram allows it."
Link lifted his gaze.
"You?"
"Rem works in the kitchen frequently."
"Yes, of course. Just... thanks."
Rem did not ask why he seemed so relieved.
Dinner passed with a rhythm already known to everyone except two of them. Roswaal did not ask direct questions about the kagune, though Rem was sure he already knew. Ram had reported enough. Emilia-sama asked about both of their work, and Subaru answered with a passionate defense of his right to keep his original name. Emilia-sama laughed upon hearing "Barusu," though she tried to soften it by saying perhaps it was an affectionate nickname. Subaru declared that if that was affection, the mansion urgently needed lessons in tenderness. Ram replied that Barusu was not qualified to teach any class. Link laughed, more from exhaustion than mockery.
After dinner, Link entered the kitchen under Rem's supervision.
Subaru tried to accompany them. Ram intercepted him with a tray of dishes.
"Barusu will wash."
"But Link is going to make dessert!"
"Barusu will wash faster if he wishes to taste it."
"That is cruelly effective motivation."
Rem prepared the side table. Link moved with a familiarity that drew her attention again. He did not know the written names of many ingredients, but he found them by scent with remarkable ease. Acidic fruits, sweet cream, reduced milk, dry biscuits, zest. He did not need too many instructions. He smelled, tasted a tiny amount, adjusted. Rem watched him mix the cream with acidic juice until it thickened.
"You do not measure."
"I don't have exact measurements for ingredients from here. You have to look for texture."
"And how do you know what the correct texture is?"
Link stopped.
The question was simple. The answer was not.
"Memory," he finally said. "From my home."
Rem noted the gesture in her mind. Not on paper. Not yet.
Subaru managed to appear at the entrance when the first layer of biscuits was already placed.
"I washed dishes with the speed of a man guided by destiny."
Ram appeared behind him.
"Barusu washed dishes with the speed of someone who broke one and hopes no one mentions it."
Link lifted his gaze.
"You broke a plate?"
Subaru pointed at Ram.
"The persecution continues."
Rem looked at Subaru.
"Did you cut yourself?"
"No. Only my pride."
"Then you can help clean afterward."
"Justice never rests."
The Carlota was finished with fewer mistakes than the first time in this loop and with more confidence than Link should have shown. To cool it, they did not have Puck for too long; the spirit helped briefly before returning to Emilia-sama, because night was advancing and his time was limited. Beatrice-sama did not appear, but Rem suspected that if the dessert turned out well, she would somehow know.
When it was served, the kitchen fell silent.
Rem tasted it first for supervision. Sweet, acidic, cold, with soft layers of biscuit that had absorbed the cream without falling apart. It was simple and, at the same time, different from the mansion's usual desserts. The acidity cleaned the mouth; the sweetness did not weigh too much. Rem understood why Link said cooking calmed him. There was something orderly in the dessert. Something made with care, despite his dangerous hands.
"It is well prepared," she said.
Link breathed as if he had been waiting for a judicial verdict.
"Really?"
"Yes. Rem considers it can be served again."
Subaru, with a spoonful already in his mouth, almost became emotional to the point of tears.
"It's confirmed. The kingdom of Carlota returns."
Ram tasted her portion.
"Acceptable."
Link closed his eyes.
"I'll accept that too."
"Everyone accepts too much from Ram," Subaru said.
"Barusu accepts little and complains much," Ram replied.
Emilia-sama received a small portion later and smiled with genuine pleasure. That was enough for Subaru to seem as if he had recovered part of the life the loop had taken from him. Roswaal praised the balance of the flavor with long and dangerously interested words. Link answered with measured courtesy. Rem observed.
He was useful. Clumsy, yes. Strange, without a doubt. Dangerous, possibly. But useful. Capable of breaking a tool and then preparing a delicate dessert. Capable of pulling red limbs from his back and using them to organize branches. Capable of looking at Rem as if he expected something from her that she did not remember giving.
At the end of the night, when the kitchen was clean, Rem found Link putting away the Carlota mold with almost excessive care.
"You do not have to do it that slowly," she said.
"If I break it, Subaru will say I murdered tradition before it was born."
"Barusu would probably say something like that."
Link smiled.
"Barusu. You got used to the nickname quickly."
"Ram chose it."
"That makes it inevitable."
Rem took a dry cloth and folded it.
"Today you used two limbs."
Link lowered his gaze to his hands.
"Yes."
"It was dangerous."
"Yes."
"It was also useful."
He looked at her.
"Thank you for saying it."
"Rem only said the truth."
"I know. That's why it matters."
The phrase remained in the kitchen longer than Rem expected.
She did not answer immediately. Not because she lacked words, but because she was not sure which ones were appropriate. There were too many things around Link that did not fit. The strange smell, his Oni horns, his red body, his imprecise yet advanced knowledge, the way he spoke as if certain conversations had already happened. And still, in that moment, he only seemed like a tired boy waiting for someone to confirm that not everything that came out of him was monstrous.
"You must rest," Rem said.
It was a safe answer.
Link nodded.
"Yes. Tomorrow will be long."
Rem lifted her gaze.
"Why do you say that?"
He went still for a fraction of a second.
Too brief for anyone.
Enough for Rem.
"Because every day here is," Link replied.
Rem accepted the answer on the outside.
Inside, she stored it with the others.
Later, when the mansion had fallen silent again and Ram was already in their room, Rem walked alone through the dark hallways with a lamp in her hand. Subaru's scent still floated in some areas where he had passed. Link's was fainter, mixed with lemon cream, earth, and that red essence Rem could not name. Both smells led toward questions she could not ignore.
Subaru smelled of the Witch.
Link smelled of something close, but not the same. Of Oni, but not pure. Of danger, but also of sweet kitchen and worked earth.
Rem put out a corridor lamp and looked for a moment toward the windows. The moon was high. For some reason, she thought of Link's horns glowing, though she had never seen them at night in this loop. The image appeared anyway, impossible and clear, like a memory that did not belong to her.
She shook off that feeling.
She should not trust impressions without origin.
She had to protect the mansion.
She had to protect Emilia-sama.
She had to protect Ram.
And if Subaru, Link, or both represented a threat, Rem would have to act even if they had washed dishes, carried branches, or prepared a dessert that tasted like cold lemon.
Even so, before retiring, she left a brief line written on the kitchen list about the Carlota: "Dessert accepted. Link knows preparation. May be repeated."
She did not write that the flavor was pleasant.
She did not write that, for a moment, while he waited for her opinion with clumsy anxiety, he had seemed less like an anomaly and more like someone trying to find a place in the mansion.
That did not belong on a kitchen list.
But Rem remembered it.