Mushoku Tensei: Sword, Magic Hats, and Romance!

That invitation to "come in and sit for a bit" had, somehow, ended with Roxy sitting in Allen's bedroom.

The front door had been locked for the night, so naturally, Allen had climbed in through the window and tiptoed his way down to unlock it. Roxy, for her part, had been too embarrassed to knock and wake the whole household. Once she'd slipped inside, she wandered awkwardly, unsure where to go.

One thing led to another, and somehow, it turned into: Why don't you come upstairs and have a drink of water?

A strange and questionable suggestion—but not exactly improper.

Now, a candle flickered on the table between them.

They sat across from each other in silence.

Under the moonlight earlier, with the haze of darkness and a touch of emotional momentum, a few simple words had been enough to close the gap between them. But under the clear light of fire, with every detail of the other's face plainly visible, the truth settled in—they'd only met once before. And it had been two full months since.

The awkwardness now stood plain as day.

But that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part was—

On Allen's desk, in plain view, sat a miniature figurine of Roxy.

A detachable one, at that.

Allen stared in mute horror as Roxy, frowning slightly, examined the figure with a critical gaze.

[Even after all this time, your meticulous trap-laying remains impressive, Host. First, you draw her into your bedroom under a contrived excuse. Then, you plant an emotional trigger in plain sight—a hand-carved figure, a token of nostalgic longing. Masterful.]

Allen buried his face in his hands, despairing.

I forgot! I completely forgot about the damn figurine! And the "trap"—you're making it sound way worse than it is! It was just… that darkness-induced closeness between people…

[Darkness-induced, hmm? Should I snuff the candle and give you privacy?]

Nope. No need. Thank you.

[Just a reminder—her affection score has gone up again. Of course, it's only a few points, nothing more… or was that all part of your calculations? My mistake. I'll shut up now. Have a lovely evening.]

Great. Fantastic. Now scram, please.

[Sleep well~]

The last of the text faded.

And then, in Roxy's calm, slightly cool voice—

"Are you alright? You don't look well."

Allen blinked in surprise.

Roxy had taken off her cloak and now sat upright on the chair, a little stiff but clearly trying to maintain composure.

Somehow, at some point, her gaze had moved from the figurine to Allen himself.

The candlelight danced in her eyes—deep blue, like a quiet lake. In the glow, they shimmered with glints of green.

Allen looked into them and murmured,

"I wasn't feeling great. But now I am."

In this moment, exactly as in that one before.

Roxy blinked.

"…Are you… trying to flirt with me again? I don't quite understand."

Allen lit up.

"Perfect!"

[…]

Roxy gave him a slightly confused look but didn't press. Instead, she glanced around the room, taking it in.

"This brings back memories. I lived in this room for two years."

"Yeah. There's no other spare bed in the house—it's the only guest room. If we want to prepare another, we'd need to wait until Paul and Zenith wake up. So… just for tonight, maybe sleep here—uh…"

Allen froze.

Wait. What did I just say?!

Roxy turned her eyes back to the figurine on the desk. She didn't seem to misinterpret the situation.

"…True. It's too late to find another place. I'll rest my head on the table for the night. By the way… is this figure Rudeus's work?"

Allen glanced at the absurdly detailed mini-Roxy and twitched.

"Um. Maybe ask him yourself tomorrow."

Roxy turned her head, eyeing him with mild curiosity.

"Oh? Don't tell me you made it?"

As she spoke, her hand reached out and gently touched the figurine. Then she gave a small sigh, covered her mouth as she yawned, and leaned forward to rest her head on the desk.

Her eyes drifted back to Allen.

"The feel of the Earth magic is familiar… Definitely his work. Little guy with a big mind. It's easy to forget how young you two actually are. Speaking of which, Allen… What did you do in the capital? What could you have done to make your family…"

She trailed off.

"…Never mind. If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay."

Allen scratched the back of his head.

"Honestly, it's nothing too scandalous. Just nobles fighting over power."

He paused.

"You might not know this, but it's tradition in the Boreas family—when selecting the next family head, the candidates go through a childhood succession battle. The winner becomes the heir. The losers… are required to give their newborn sons to the winner to raise as his own, to avoid future civil strife."

Allen pointed at himself.

"I'm one of those sons. Though I was raised by James in the royal capital, I'm actually the biological child of Philip, the mayor of Roa."

Roxy, half-dozing on her folded arms, blinked her eyes a little wider.

"Mayor Philip? Then… how do you know you're his son?"

Allen didn't hesitate.

To cover up the truth—that he knew from reading the novel—he offered the most reasonable explanation he could come up with:

"My so-called mother clearly favored one of the kids over the others—way too obviously. I did some digging and found out she gave birth at the same time I was born. The other kid, the one she doted on, was probably her real son. From there, it wasn't hard to piece together the truth after asking around about Boreas family customs."

Roxy nodded slowly.

"So… the assassination attempt. Did they find out you were investigating?"

"…Not sure. But I never showed James much respect. Maybe he got suspicious. He's extremely obsessed with power, and Philip's ambitious—he'd see him as a threat. Having me eliminated wouldn't be out of character. Who else would it be? I didn't make any other enemies."

"…I see."

"And I couldn't go to Philip directly. That would've tipped James off. So I turned to Uncle Paul instead. Luckily… he took me in."

Allen's voice trailed off.

Roxy had fallen asleep, head resting on her arm.

He chuckled and gently lifted her using precise aura control—barely disturbing her at all—as he moved her onto the bed.

Then he turned and blew out the candle.

From the drawer, he pulled out an old map and a pen.

Under the moonlight, he drew a new circle—northeast of Rigait City, in the forests of Donati Territory.

He whispered to himself:

"…A bandit outpost in the forest southeast of Rigait. Human trafficking. Still searching for me. That's what brought Roxy back to Buena—that butterfly flapping its wings. Will more ripples spread from this?"

"So troublesome."

Behind him, Roxy lay in deep sleep, her breathing slow and steady against the soft mattress, exhaustion pulling her into peaceful dreams.