Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
Of course, eventually he had dismissed such tales as pure fantasy.
It was meeting Holo that allowed Lawrence to enjoy them again.
Many of those old tales and legends were not fantasy at all, and even a humble traveling merchant might have adventures as great as any knight-errant.
That realization alone was enough to cause a warmth he had not felt in many years to spread throughout his heart.
In the midst of his giddiness, however, he remembered the events that happened during the attempt at smuggling gold into Ruvinheigen. He smiled at his folly.
He hadn't seen its form, but there was no doubt that a wolf not unlike Holo in those eerie woods near Ruvinheigen were the source of so much rumor. Lawrence, though, had been no strapping protagonist of a thrilling adventure. He was merely a helpless minor character caught up in the tale.
A merchant's life suited him much better, he felt.
Lawrence mused on this as they came to the broad street that led back to the inn. He took his leave from Batos there.
When Lawrence thanked Batos for acting as a go-between, Batos's reply was quick. "People tend to gossip if I go to Diana's place alone, so you were a fine excuse."
The lot back at the trading company were very fond of such talk.
"Ask me along anytime," Batos said. It was no mere pleasantry. He seemed to genuinely mean it. Lawrence, too, had enjoyed himself, so he nodded in the affirmative.
The sun was beginning to sink below the rooftops on the broad avenue, which was crowded with craftsmen returning home from a long day, traders winding up their negotiations, and farmers on their way home, having sold the produce and livestock they brought from their villages.
Lawrence headed south down the street into the central part of the town, where drunkards and children were added to the mix of the crowd.
Normally the number of town girls in the street tended to drop after sunset, but today they were plentiful, adding to the atmosphere of anticipation for the next day's festival. Here and there, circles of people gathered around fortune-tellers and the like, who did their business brazenly amid the crowds.
Lawrence cut his way through the throng and passed right by the inn along the street, heading straight for the market in the center of Kumersun.
Thanks to Diana, he had a general grasp of Yoitsu's location, and thus would not be heading for Nyohhira, but rather the town of Lenos.
Lenos was closer, and the road leading to it was better maintained. He also expected that once he was in Lenos he would be able to get more detailed information about the legends of Holo.
Thus it was that Lawrence found himself visiting Mark again. As Mark was gathering travel information for him, he needed to know about this change in destination.
"Hey there, lover boy."
As Lawrence approached Mark's shop, he saw Mark with a bottle of wine in one hand, looking merry indeed; the young apprentice he'd sent out to contact Batos earlier was now red faced and prone in the back of the shop.
It was Mark's wife, Adele, that attended to the closing of the shop, covering the piles of goods with a canopy against the evening dew.
As soon as she noticed Lawrence, Adele gave a slight nod and pointed to her husband with a chagrined smile.
"What's wrong?" said Mark. "Bah—here, have a drink."
"So about that information I asked you about this morning...Whoa, that's too much."
Mark didn't seem to hear Lawrence's protest at all as he poured wine from a ceramic wine bottle into a wooden cup.
His expression suggested that he would have nothing to say until Lawrence picked up the cup, which was now nearly overflowing with wine.
"Fine, fine." Exasperated, Lawrence took the cup and put it to his lips; it was good wine. He suddenly wanted some jerky to go with it.
"So, what was that? Have you changed your travel plans?"
"Indeed. There's a town, Lenos, at the headwaters of the Roam River. That's where I'm going."

Output:
"Apologies. Circumstances have changed a bit."
"Oh ho," said Mark with a smile as he gulped down wine as if it were water. He then regarded Lawrence with a look of amusement. "So it's true that things have gone bad with that companion of yours?"
There was a pause.
"What did you say?" Lawrence finally asked.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha. Word's gotten around, lover boy. Everyone knows you're holed up in a nice inn with a gorgeous nun. You've surely got no fear of God."
Kumersun was a large enough town, but it wasn't so large as Ruvinheigen—word spread quickly from one merchant to another until nearly all of them would have heard the news. The bonds between traders here were strong. If someone had seen Holo with Lawrence, word would get around.
If Mark knew about Holo, then everyone at the trading company would also know. He was glad he hadn't returned with Batos.
What he did not understand was why Mark said things had gone sour between Lawrence and Holo.
"We don't have the sort of relationship that makes for a good story over wine, but I don't see why you'd say things have gone bad with her."
"Heh-heh. The lover boy knows how to play dumb, that's for sure. But I can see the worry on your face."
"Well, there's no mistaking that she's a beauty. If things were to go poorly with us, it would be a shame."
Lawrence was surprised at his own ability to stay cool during the exchange—no doubt it came about because he was used to constant teasing from Holo.
Although truth be told, he felt he would have preferred for his business acumen to have gotten sharper rather than his patience.
Mark burped. "Why, just a moment ago, I heard that your companion was seen in the company of a young lad from our trade guild. Evidently they were getting on quite well."
"Ah, you mean Mr. Amati." Lawrence didn't feel comfortable calling the boy simply "Amati," and yet "Mr." suddenly seemed unnecessarily subservient as well.
"Oh, so you've given up already, then."
"You seem to be sadly mistaken. I simply had business today and was unable to accompany her, and Mr. Amati found himself with free time and wished to show us around town. These two events happened to coincide; that is all."
"Hmm..."
"You don't believe me?"
Lawrence had fully expected Mark to appear disappointed, so he found himself confused at Mark's look of genuine concern.
"I used to be a traveling merchant like you, so I'll give you some advice. Amati is more formidable than he seems."
"...What do you mean?"
"What I mean is, if you're careless, he'll snatch that pretty little companion of yours right out from under you. Men his age will do anything to gain the object of their obsession. And do you know how much fish Amati moves? It's a lot. And what's more, he was born in a pretty nice region of the south, but once he figured out that as the youngest child he'd never be allowed to make anything of himself, he ran away from home and came here to open his business. That was just three years ago. Quite a story, eh?"
It was hard to imagine the slight Amati doing all that, but Lawrence had seen for himself the boy's three cartloads of fresh fish.
What's more, Amati had been able to easily arrange a room at an inn facing a main avenue—albeit one to which he sold his fish. During a time when the town was overflowing with travelers coming and going, this was no mean feat.
A seed of fear began to take root in Lawrence's heart, but at the same time, he could not believe that Holo would transfer her affections so easily.
"No need to worry. My companion is not so fickle."
"Ha-ha-ha. You've a lot of faith. If I heard my Adele was out with Amati, I'd give up right on the spot."
"What's this of me and Amati?" said Adele, a truly frightful smile on her face. She had been behind Mark for some time as she cleaned up the shop in place of her husband.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"Apologies. Circumstances have changed a bit."
"Oh ho," said Mark with a smile as he gulped down wine as if it were water. He then regarded Lawrence with a look of amusement. "So it's true that things have gone bad with that companion of yours?"
There was a pause.
"What did you say?" Lawrence finally asked.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha. Word's gotten around, lover boy. Everyone knows you're holed up in a nice inn with a gorgeous nun. You've surely got no fear of God."
Kumersun was a large enough town, but it wasn't so large as Ruvinheigen—word spread quickly from one merchant to another until nearly all of them would have heard the news. The bonds between traders here were strong. If someone had seen Holo with Lawrence, word would get around.
If Mark knew about Holo, then everyone at the trading company would also know. He was glad he hadn't returned with Batos.
What he did not understand was why Mark said things had gone sour between Lawrence and Holo.
"We don't have the sort of relationship that makes for a good story over wine, but I don't see why you'd say things have gone bad with her."
"Heh-heh. The lover boy knows how to play dumb, that's for sure. But I can see the worry on your face."
"Well, there's no mistaking that she's a beauty. If things were to go poorly with us, it would be a shame."
Lawrence was surprised at his own ability to stay cool during the exchange—no doubt it came about because he was used to constant teasing from Holo.
Although truth be told, he felt he would have preferred for his business acumen to have gotten sharper rather than his patience.
Mark burped. "Why, just a moment ago, I heard that your companion was seen in the company of a young lad from our trade guild. Evidently they were getting on quite well."
"Ah, you mean Mr. Amati." Lawrence didn't feel comfortable calling the boy simply "Amati," and yet "Mr." suddenly seemed unnecessarily subservient as well.
"Oh, so you've given up already, then."
"You seem to be sadly mistaken. I simply had business today and was unable to accompany her, and Mr. Amati found himself with free time and wished to show us around town. These two events happened to coincide; that is all."
"Hmm..."
"You don't believe me?"
Lawrence had fully expected Mark to appear disappointed, so he found himself confused at Mark's look of genuine concern.
"I used to be a traveling merchant like you, so I'll give you some advice. Amati is more formidable than he seems."
"...What do you mean?"
"What I mean is, if you're careless, he'll snatch that pretty little companion of yours right out from under you. Men his age will do anything to gain the object of their obsession. And do you know how much fish Amati moves? It's a lot. And what's more, he was born in a pretty nice region of the south, but once he figured out that as the youngest child he'd never be allowed to make anything of himself, he ran away from home and came here to open his business. That was just three years ago. Quite a story, eh?"
It was hard to imagine the slight Amati doing all that, but Lawrence had seen for himself the boy's three cartloads of fresh fish.
What's more, Amati had been able to easily arrange a room at an inn facing a main avenue—albeit one to which he sold his fish. During a time when the town was overflowing with travelers coming and going, this was no mean feat.
A seed of fear began to take root in Lawrence's heart, but at the same time, he could not believe that Holo would transfer her affections so easily.
"No need to worry. My companion is not so fickle."
"Ha-ha-ha. You've a lot of faith. If I heard my Adele was out with Amati, I'd give up right on the spot."
"What's this of me and Amati?" said Adele, a truly frightful smile on her face. She had been behind Mark for some time as she cleaned up the shop in place of her husband.

Output:
When Lawrence first met her, Adele had been quite frail, but now she was even more robust than her husband.
Two years previous she'd given birth to their first child—perhaps it was the strength of motherhood that she now had.
"Uh, what I was saying was that if I ever saw you out with Amati, why, you're so dear to me that the flames of my jealousy would burn my very flesh!"
"Burn away, dear. I'll just light a fire with the cinders you leave behind to make some tasty bread for Mr. Amati."
Adele was so caustic that all Mark could do in response was take another drink.
Perhaps women everywhere really are stronger.
"So then, Mr. Lawrence," said Adele. "Drinking in the company of this sot must make the wine taste poorly. We'll be closing up shop here, so why don't you come by the house and help yourself to some dinner? The baby may be a bit noisy, though."
Lawrence couldn't even begin to imagine how much mischief Mark's child would be capable of.
He was not especially good with children, but that wasn't why he declined the offer.
"I've still more business to attend to, unfortunately."
It was a lie, of course, but Adele nodded her regret without any trace of suspicion.
Mark, on the other hand, smiled as though having seen right through Lawrence. "Oh, indeed, you've unfinished business aplenty. And good luck to you."
Yes, Mark had seen the truth of it. Lawrence managed a weak smile.
"Ah, yes, so I'll keep your new destination in mind. I'll be keeping the shop open all during the festival, so I should be able to ask all about the route to Lenos."
"I appreciate it."
Lawrence finished off his remaining wine, thanked the couple again, and took his leave.
He noticed himself walking more quickly through the lively, bustling night and laughed at his own folly.
He'd actually claimed to have unfinished business—ridiculous!
But articulating the real reason made Lawrence hate himself, so admitting it to anyone else was out of the question.
Amati and Holo walking happily together—the image flashed briefly through his mind.
Despite his frustration, he noticed himself quickening his step more and more.
The boisterous clamor outside grew louder as the evening deepened. Lawrence was well into working out his upcoming travel plans with ink and pen borrowed from the inn when Holo finally returned.
Lawrence had hurried back to the inn only to find that Holo was still out, and although he'd had to swallow his disappointment, the time did give him a chance to calm himself, for which he was grateful.
Amati had taken his leave from her in front of the inn, Holo said, so she had come up to the room alone. Judging from the fox kit–skin muffler around her neck, Amati had been taken for quite a ride. There was no doubt in Lawrence's mind that she'd gotten him to buy her more than that.
His relief and happiness at seeing Holo's safe return was nothing compared to the headache that came with trying to figure out what would be an appropriate way to thank Amati.
"Ugh...it's too tight. Come...help me with this, won't you?"
However much she had eaten and drunk, Holo seemed incapable of taking off her own clothes.
Lawrence sighed and got out of his chair, walked over beside the bed, and undid the sash Holo struggled so valiantly against. He also removed the robe that was cinched up against her skirts.
"If you're going to lie down, take off your muffler and shawl. They'll wrinkle otherwise." Holo grunted vaguely in reply.
Lawrence managed to stop her from falling over onto the bed right then and there, and he helped her take off the muffler and rabbit skin shawl, as well as the triangular kerchief that she wore on her head.
Holo nodded off as she let Lawrence have his way with her clothing. She had probably parted ways with Amati in front of the inn because she was unable to keep herself together any longer.
Once Lawrence managed to get her out of the muffler, shawl, and kerchief, she immediately flopped down onto the bed.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
When Lawrence first met her, Adele had been quite frail, but now she was even more robust than her husband.
Two years previous she'd given birth to their first child—perhaps it was the strength of motherhood that she now had.
"Uh, what I was saying was that if I ever saw you out with Amati, why, you're so dear to me that the flames of my jealousy would burn my very flesh!"
"Burn away, dear. I'll just light a fire with the cinders you leave behind to make some tasty bread for Mr. Amati."
Adele was so caustic that all Mark could do in response was take another drink.
Perhaps women everywhere really are stronger.
"So then, Mr. Lawrence," said Adele. "Drinking in the company of this sot must make the wine taste poorly. We'll be closing up shop here, so why don't you come by the house and help yourself to some dinner? The baby may be a bit noisy, though."
Lawrence couldn't even begin to imagine how much mischief Mark's child would be capable of.
He was not especially good with children, but that wasn't why he declined the offer.
"I've still more business to attend to, unfortunately."
It was a lie, of course, but Adele nodded her regret without any trace of suspicion.
Mark, on the other hand, smiled as though having seen right through Lawrence. "Oh, indeed, you've unfinished business aplenty. And good luck to you."
Yes, Mark had seen the truth of it. Lawrence managed a weak smile.
"Ah, yes, so I'll keep your new destination in mind. I'll be keeping the shop open all during the festival, so I should be able to ask all about the route to Lenos."
"I appreciate it."
Lawrence finished off his remaining wine, thanked the couple again, and took his leave.
He noticed himself walking more quickly through the lively, bustling night and laughed at his own folly.
He'd actually claimed to have unfinished business—ridiculous!
But articulating the real reason made Lawrence hate himself, so admitting it to anyone else was out of the question.
Amati and Holo walking happily together—the image flashed briefly through his mind.
Despite his frustration, he noticed himself quickening his step more and more.
The boisterous clamor outside grew louder as the evening deepened. Lawrence was well into working out his upcoming travel plans with ink and pen borrowed from the inn when Holo finally returned.
Lawrence had hurried back to the inn only to find that Holo was still out, and although he'd had to swallow his disappointment, the time did give him a chance to calm himself, for which he was grateful.
Amati had taken his leave from her in front of the inn, Holo said, so she had come up to the room alone. Judging from the fox kit–skin muffler around her neck, Amati had been taken for quite a ride. There was no doubt in Lawrence's mind that she'd gotten him to buy her more than that.
His relief and happiness at seeing Holo's safe return was nothing compared to the headache that came with trying to figure out what would be an appropriate way to thank Amati.
"Ugh...it's too tight. Come...help me with this, won't you?"
However much she had eaten and drunk, Holo seemed incapable of taking off her own clothes.
Lawrence sighed and got out of his chair, walked over beside the bed, and undid the sash Holo struggled so valiantly against. He also removed the robe that was cinched up against her skirts.
"If you're going to lie down, take off your muffler and shawl. They'll wrinkle otherwise." Holo grunted vaguely in reply.
Lawrence managed to stop her from falling over onto the bed right then and there, and he helped her take off the muffler and rabbit skin shawl, as well as the triangular kerchief that she wore on her head.
Holo nodded off as she let Lawrence have his way with her clothing. She had probably parted ways with Amati in front of the inn because she was unable to keep herself together any longer.
Once Lawrence managed to get her out of the muffler, shawl, and kerchief, she immediately flopped down onto the bed.

Output:
"Hey, you—what else did you get him to buy you, eh?"
If Amati had gone this far, it seemed likely he'd bought her something still more costly.
Holo didn't even have the energy to lift her legs onto the bed, and her strange position remained unchanged as she took the long, slow breaths of the deeply asleep. The ears she was so proud of gave nary a twitch at Lawrence's question.
Realizing there was nothing else to do, Lawrence lifted her legs up onto the bed, and even then she did not so much as open her eyes.
He wondered if this utter defenselessness was due to trust or simply disdain.
He mulled it over for a while, but ultimately decided that such thoughts would only lead to disappointment, so he banished them from his head. Putting the muffler and shawl on the desk, he began to fold up her robe.
As soon as he did so, something fell out of the robe and hit the floor with a clunk.
He picked the object up; it was a beautiful metallic cube.
"Iron...? No."
It had sharp, carefully filed edges and a surface that was beautifully smooth even in the dim moonlight. Even if it were just metalwork, the cube would have been a valuable piece, but there was no telling how angry Holo would be if he woke her up just to ask about it.
He set the cube on the desk, deciding to ask about it the next day.
He put the robe over the back of the chair and folded the kerchief; then he rolled up the sash after smoothing out its wrinkles.
For a moment, he wondered why he was attending to these menial tasks—he was no manservant, after all—but one look at the sleeping Holo, snoring away artlessly on the bed there, was enough to dispel his indignation.
She had made no move to do it herself, so Lawrence walked over to the bed and drew the covers over her, chuckling.
He then returned to his desk and his travel plans.
If his circumstances didn't allow him to stay in the north while he searched for Yoitsu, he would simply have to change his business plan to accommodate some travel in the north. Whether or not he would actually follow those changes, there was no harm in making the plan.
Also, it had been some time since he'd really sat down with pen and paper and listed the towns, trade routes, commodities, and profit margins that made up the life of a traveling merchant.
He was filled with nostalgia when he remembered the times he had once burned the midnight oil to make such plans.
There was one large difference between then and now, though.
Were the plans being made for his own sake—or for someone else's?
Lawrence worked, pen in hand, listening to Holo's quiet snores, until the tallow candle burned itself out.
"Food, drink, the scarf, and this die."
"Anything else?"
"That was all. Well, that and enough sweet talk to fill a lifetime," said Holo lightly, chewing on the comb she used to groom her tail. Lawrence regarded her wearily.
He'd been relieved when she woke up without a hangover and had immediately interrogated her about the events of the previous night. Looking at the gifts she had received in the light of morning, Lawrence could tell they were of considerable value.
"So you ate and drank the night away, but then there's this muffler. I can't believe you'd go and accept such a thing..."
"It's fine fur, is it not? Though nothing compared with my tail."
"Did you make him buy this thing?"
"You think me so shameless? Why, he practically pressed it upon me. Rather fashionable of him, though, giving a muffler as a gift."
Lawrence looked at the fox skin piece, then at Holo. She continued, sounding pleased, "He's quite mad about me, you know."
"I'm sorry, did I ask for a joke? You can't just call it over and done when you receive a gift this valuable. Here I just thought to let someone else show you a good time, but now look at the debt I carry!"
Holo giggled. "So that was your plan all along, was it? I thought as much."
"I'm taking the consideration for this scarf out of your funds for the festival, just so you know."


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"Hey, you—what else did you get him to buy you, eh?"
If Amati had gone this far, it seemed likely he'd bought her something still more costly.
Holo didn't even have the energy to lift her legs onto the bed, and her strange position remained unchanged as she took the long, slow breaths of the deeply asleep. The ears she was so proud of gave nary a twitch at Lawrence's question.
Realizing there was nothing else to do, Lawrence lifted her legs up onto the bed, and even then she did not so much as open her eyes.
He wondered if this utter defenselessness was due to trust or simply disdain.
He mulled it over for a while, but ultimately decided that such thoughts would only lead to disappointment, so he banished them from his head. Putting the muffler and shawl on the desk, he began to fold up her robe.
As soon as he did so, something fell out of the robe and hit the floor with a clunk.
He picked the object up; it was a beautiful metallic cube.
"Iron...? No."
It had sharp, carefully filed edges and a surface that was beautifully smooth even in the dim moonlight. Even if it were just metalwork, the cube would have been a valuable piece, but there was no telling how angry Holo would be if he woke her up just to ask about it.
He set the cube on the desk, deciding to ask about it the next day.
He put the robe over the back of the chair and folded the kerchief; then he rolled up the sash after smoothing out its wrinkles.
For a moment, he wondered why he was attending to these menial tasks—he was no manservant, after all—but one look at the sleeping Holo, snoring away artlessly on the bed there, was enough to dispel his indignation.
She had made no move to do it herself, so Lawrence walked over to the bed and drew the covers over her, chuckling.
He then returned to his desk and his travel plans.
If his circumstances didn't allow him to stay in the north while he searched for Yoitsu, he would simply have to change his business plan to accommodate some travel in the north. Whether or not he would actually follow those changes, there was no harm in making the plan.
Also, it had been some time since he'd really sat down with pen and paper and listed the towns, trade routes, commodities, and profit margins that made up the life of a traveling merchant.
He was filled with nostalgia when he remembered the times he had once burned the midnight oil to make such plans.
There was one large difference between then and now, though.
Were the plans being made for his own sake—or for someone else's?
Lawrence worked, pen in hand, listening to Holo's quiet snores, until the tallow candle burned itself out.
"Food, drink, the scarf, and this die."
"Anything else?"
"That was all. Well, that and enough sweet talk to fill a lifetime," said Holo lightly, chewing on the comb she used to groom her tail. Lawrence regarded her wearily.
He'd been relieved when she woke up without a hangover and had immediately interrogated her about the events of the previous night. Looking at the gifts she had received in the light of morning, Lawrence could tell they were of considerable value.
"So you ate and drank the night away, but then there's this muffler. I can't believe you'd go and accept such a thing..."
"It's fine fur, is it not? Though nothing compared with my tail."
"Did you make him buy this thing?"
"You think me so shameless? Why, he practically pressed it upon me. Rather fashionable of him, though, giving a muffler as a gift."
Lawrence looked at the fox skin piece, then at Holo. She continued, sounding pleased, "He's quite mad about me, you know."
"I'm sorry, did I ask for a joke? You can't just call it over and done when you receive a gift this valuable. Here I just thought to let someone else show you a good time, but now look at the debt I carry!"
Holo giggled. "So that was your plan all along, was it? I thought as much."
"I'm taking the consideration for this scarf out of your funds for the festival, just so you know."

Output:
"I trust you didn't show him your ears and tail at least?"
"You needn't worry. I am not quite that foolish."
Based on her state the previous night, Lawrence had not thought to worry about such a possibility, but now he wasn't so sure.
"I suppose you were asked what sort of relationship you have with me."
"What I would like to know is precisely why you're asking."
"If our stories do not match, people will begin to suspect things."
"Mm. Right you are. Yes, I was quite thoroughly questioned. I am a traveling nun and you saved me from being sold off by evil men is what I told him."
Aside from the part about Holo being a nun, that was more or less consistent with the truth.
"But once you saved me, I fell deeply into your debt, and as I cannot hope to repay it, I am gradually working it off by praying for your safety as we travel. Oh, alas and alack, woe is me! My voice was desperately sad as I told the tale. What do you think, eh? It has the ring of truth!"
Although it irked Lawrence that he seemed to be the villain of the story, it did seem convincing.
"As soon as I told the tale, he bought me the muffler," said the fake traveling nun with a frankly devilish smile.
"I suppose that will do. But what of this die? What made him buy you something like this?"
Lawrence had been unable to discern the color of the thing in the dim moonlight, but he could now tell that the cube of metal, so perfect it seemed the work of a master smith, had a distinctly yellow tint, like unpolished gold.
Lawrence had seen this kind of goldlike mineral before.
It was not the work of any human but entirely natural.
"Oh, that? The fortune-teller was using it. They say it's a die that can divine the future. It has a lovely shape, has it not? I can scarcely fathom how it was made. There's no doubt it'll sell for some fine coin."
"You fool. Do you actually think you can sell this?" said Lawrence, using the same tone she often rebuked him with. Holo's ears pricked up at the sudden harshness.
"This is no die. This is a mineral called pyrite. And no man made it."
His information was obviously unexpected. Holo regarded him dubiously, but Lawrence ignored this, plucking the yellowish crystalline cube off the desk and tossing it at Holo.
"I suppose the wisewolf that guarantees the harvest would know little of rocks. That die-shaped stone was mined just as you see it."
Holo smiled uncertainly, clearly disbelieving him, as she toyed with the pyrite.
"You should be able to tell that I'm not lying."
Holo murmured quietly and held the pyrite up between her fingers.
"It's not good for much, but it's often sold as a souvenir. And since it looks like gold, sometimes it's used by swindlers. Was anybody else buying it?"
"Oh, indeed. Many. The fortune-teller had great skill, enough to impress even me. He claimed that with dice like his, anyone could read the fates, so all that were gathered wanted the pyrite dice he was selling. He made up all manner of reasons why they were desirable."
"You mean the dice?"
"Indeed. Even the ones less perfect in shape than this he claimed would ward away sickness or evil."
Lawrence felt a certain professional respect for anyone who could invent such a lucrative business. Festivals and fairs often sparked strange fads.
The charged atmosphere made for great business, but pyrite—that was quite an angle, indeed.
"Amati bid down the price on that die, too."
This genuinely surprised Lawrence. "He bid it down?"
"The crowd had gotten quite enthusiastic. I'd not seen that sort of competition before—it was something to see, indeed. I expect I could sell the die quite dear now."
Lawrence thought of Batos, who traveled the Hyoram regions.
Did Batos know of this? If he had pyrite on hand or connections to gain it, there might be excellent business to be had here.
Lawrence had gotten that far in his train of thought when there was a knock at the door.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"I trust you didn't show him your ears and tail at least?"
"You needn't worry. I am not quite that foolish."
Based on her state the previous night, Lawrence had not thought to worry about such a possibility, but now he wasn't so sure.
"I suppose you were asked what sort of relationship you have with me."
"What I would like to know is precisely why you're asking."
"If our stories do not match, people will begin to suspect things."
"Mm. Right you are. Yes, I was quite thoroughly questioned. I am a traveling nun and you saved me from being sold off by evil men is what I told him."
Aside from the part about Holo being a nun, that was more or less consistent with the truth.
"But once you saved me, I fell deeply into your debt, and as I cannot hope to repay it, I am gradually working it off by praying for your safety as we travel. Oh, alas and alack, woe is me! My voice was desperately sad as I told the tale. What do you think, eh? It has the ring of truth!"
Although it irked Lawrence that he seemed to be the villain of the story, it did seem convincing.
"As soon as I told the tale, he bought me the muffler," said the fake traveling nun with a frankly devilish smile.
"I suppose that will do. But what of this die? What made him buy you something like this?"
Lawrence had been unable to discern the color of the thing in the dim moonlight, but he could now tell that the cube of metal, so perfect it seemed the work of a master smith, had a distinctly yellow tint, like unpolished gold.
Lawrence had seen this kind of goldlike mineral before.
It was not the work of any human but entirely natural.
"Oh, that? The fortune-teller was using it. They say it's a die that can divine the future. It has a lovely shape, has it not? I can scarcely fathom how it was made. There's no doubt it'll sell for some fine coin."
"You fool. Do you actually think you can sell this?" said Lawrence, using the same tone she often rebuked him with. Holo's ears pricked up at the sudden harshness.
"This is no die. This is a mineral called pyrite. And no man made it."
His information was obviously unexpected. Holo regarded him dubiously, but Lawrence ignored this, plucking the yellowish crystalline cube off the desk and tossing it at Holo.
"I suppose the wisewolf that guarantees the harvest would know little of rocks. That die-shaped stone was mined just as you see it."
Holo smiled uncertainly, clearly disbelieving him, as she toyed with the pyrite.
"You should be able to tell that I'm not lying."
Holo murmured quietly and held the pyrite up between her fingers.
"It's not good for much, but it's often sold as a souvenir. And since it looks like gold, sometimes it's used by swindlers. Was anybody else buying it?"
"Oh, indeed. Many. The fortune-teller had great skill, enough to impress even me. He claimed that with dice like his, anyone could read the fates, so all that were gathered wanted the pyrite dice he was selling. He made up all manner of reasons why they were desirable."
"You mean the dice?"
"Indeed. Even the ones less perfect in shape than this he claimed would ward away sickness or evil."
Lawrence felt a certain professional respect for anyone who could invent such a lucrative business. Festivals and fairs often sparked strange fads.
The charged atmosphere made for great business, but pyrite—that was quite an angle, indeed.
"Amati bid down the price on that die, too."
This genuinely surprised Lawrence. "He bid it down?"
"The crowd had gotten quite enthusiastic. I'd not seen that sort of competition before—it was something to see, indeed. I expect I could sell the die quite dear now."
Lawrence thought of Batos, who traveled the Hyoram regions.
Did Batos know of this? If he had pyrite on hand or connections to gain it, there might be excellent business to be had here.
Lawrence had gotten that far in his train of thought when there was a knock at the door.

Output:
He looked from the door to Holo and saw that she drew the bedclothes up over herself. Evidently the visitor at the door was not of the dangerous sort they had encountered in Pazzio.
Lawrence walked over to the door and opened it.
On the other side was Mark's young apprentice.
"I apologize for calling so early in the morning. I have a message from my master."
It was hardly "early in the morning," and Lawrence couldn't imagine what was so pressing that it would inspire Mark to send his apprentice on an errand just when the market would be opening.
He wondered if Mark had perhaps fallen gravely ill, but no—were that the case, the boy would not claim to have a message from his master.
Holo shifted underneath the blankets, popping her head out.
The boy noticed and glanced her way. Seeing a girl on a bed covered from the neck down in blankets was evidently more than he had bargained for. He turned away, red faced.
"So what was the message?"
"Oh, er, yes. He said you needed to know right away, so I ran over immediately. Actually—"
The shocking news had Lawrence running through the streets of Kumersun a moment later.
***
The town of Kumersun rose early.
Lawrence crossed the broad north-south avenue and headed west toward the trading company. Here and there on the way, he spotted many people erecting what looked like signposts.
Lawrence glanced at them as he ran with Mark's apprentice. They seemed to indeed be signposts of some kind, but he could not tell what was written on them. It was a script he had never seen before, and the signs were decorated with flowers, turnips, or bundles of hay.
Undoubtedly they were used in the Laddora festival, which began today, but Lawrence had no time to investigate.
The boy was fleet of foot and showed no signs of tiring, perhaps from being worked so hard day in and day out by Mark. Lawrence had a fair amount of confidence in his own stamina but was hard-pressed to keep up. It was just as he was running short of breath that they arrived at the trading company.
The normally forbidding, tightly closed doors of the company were thrown open. A handful of merchants stood at the entrance, wine cups already in hand despite the early hour.
Their attention had been directed into the building, but upon noticing Lawrence's arrival, they beckoned him in with gusto.
"Hey! It's the man himself! Haschmidt the Knight has arrived!"
Hearing the name Haschmidt, Lawrence now knew for a certainty that Mark's apprentice had been neither jesting nor lying.
There was a romantic tale from the country of Eleas, a passionate nation of seas and vineyards.
The protagonist was Hendt La Haschmidt, a knight of the royal court.
However, Lawrence was far from happy to be called a knight.
Haschmidt the Knight fought bravely for Ilesa, the princess he loved. He challenged Prince Philip the Third to a duel for the right to her hand and died a tragic death.
Lawrence ascended the stone steps, pushing through the jeering merchants into the trading company.
Their gazes pierced him, spearlike, as though he was a criminal about to be crucified.
There at the back of the room, at the counter behind which sat the master of the firm, was his Prince Philip the Third.
"I say again!" cried a reedy, boyish voice that echoed through the lobby.
It was Amati—not wearing the standard oiled-leather coat of the fishmonger, but rather an aristocratic formal robe. He looked every inch the young son of a nobleman.
He leveled his gaze directly at Lawrence as the entire assemblage of merchants held their breath.
Right then and there, Amati held up a dagger and a sheet of parchment and made his declaration.
"I will pay the debt that now weighs upon the slender shoulders of this traveling nun—and when this goddess of loveliness does regain her freedom, I swear by Saint Lambardos, who watches over this Rowen Trade Guild, that Holo the nun will have my undying love!"


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
He looked from the door to Holo and saw that she drew the bedclothes up over herself. Evidently the visitor at the door was not of the dangerous sort they had encountered in Pazzio.
Lawrence walked over to the door and opened it.
On the other side was Mark's young apprentice.
"I apologize for calling so early in the morning. I have a message from my master."
It was hardly "early in the morning," and Lawrence couldn't imagine what was so pressing that it would inspire Mark to send his apprentice on an errand just when the market would be opening.
He wondered if Mark had perhaps fallen gravely ill, but no—were that the case, the boy would not claim to have a message from his master.
Holo shifted underneath the blankets, popping her head out.
The boy noticed and glanced her way. Seeing a girl on a bed covered from the neck down in blankets was evidently more than he had bargained for. He turned away, red faced.
"So what was the message?"
"Oh, er, yes. He said you needed to know right away, so I ran over immediately. Actually—"
The shocking news had Lawrence running through the streets of Kumersun a moment later.
***
The town of Kumersun rose early.
Lawrence crossed the broad north-south avenue and headed west toward the trading company. Here and there on the way, he spotted many people erecting what looked like signposts.
Lawrence glanced at them as he ran with Mark's apprentice. They seemed to indeed be signposts of some kind, but he could not tell what was written on them. It was a script he had never seen before, and the signs were decorated with flowers, turnips, or bundles of hay.
Undoubtedly they were used in the Laddora festival, which began today, but Lawrence had no time to investigate.
The boy was fleet of foot and showed no signs of tiring, perhaps from being worked so hard day in and day out by Mark. Lawrence had a fair amount of confidence in his own stamina but was hard-pressed to keep up. It was just as he was running short of breath that they arrived at the trading company.
The normally forbidding, tightly closed doors of the company were thrown open. A handful of merchants stood at the entrance, wine cups already in hand despite the early hour.
Their attention had been directed into the building, but upon noticing Lawrence's arrival, they beckoned him in with gusto.
"Hey! It's the man himself! Haschmidt the Knight has arrived!"
Hearing the name Haschmidt, Lawrence now knew for a certainty that Mark's apprentice had been neither jesting nor lying.
There was a romantic tale from the country of Eleas, a passionate nation of seas and vineyards.
The protagonist was Hendt La Haschmidt, a knight of the royal court.
However, Lawrence was far from happy to be called a knight.
Haschmidt the Knight fought bravely for Ilesa, the princess he loved. He challenged Prince Philip the Third to a duel for the right to her hand and died a tragic death.
Lawrence ascended the stone steps, pushing through the jeering merchants into the trading company.
Their gazes pierced him, spearlike, as though he was a criminal about to be crucified.
There at the back of the room, at the counter behind which sat the master of the firm, was his Prince Philip the Third.
"I say again!" cried a reedy, boyish voice that echoed through the lobby.
It was Amati—not wearing the standard oiled-leather coat of the fishmonger, but rather an aristocratic formal robe. He looked every inch the young son of a nobleman.
He leveled his gaze directly at Lawrence as the entire assemblage of merchants held their breath.
Right then and there, Amati held up a dagger and a sheet of parchment and made his declaration.
"I will pay the debt that now weighs upon the slender shoulders of this traveling nun—and when this goddess of loveliness does regain her freedom, I swear by Saint Lambardos, who watches over this Rowen Trade Guild, that Holo the nun will have my undying love!"

Output:
Amati ignored the noise. He lowered his hands and spun the dagger around, gripping it by the blade and holding the hilt out to Lawrence.
"Miss Holo has told me of her misfortune and ill treatment. I thus propose to use my fortune and position as a free man to regain for her the feathers of freedom, and furthermore to wed her."
Lawrence instantly recalled Mark's words the previous day.
Men his age will do anything to gain the object of their obsession.
He regarded the hilt thrust at him with a bitter gaze and then looked at the parchment.
Amati was just far enough away that Lawrence could not make the writing out, but it surely reiterated what the boy had just said in more concrete terms. The red seal at the bottom left of the sheet was probably not wax, but blood.
In regions without a public witness, or when one needed a contract with far more weight than a public witness could provide, there was contract law. The party who put their blood seal upon the contract would give the knife they used to the opposite party and swear an oath in God's name.
If the first party failed to fulfill the contract, they would be bound to kill the opposing party with that knife or else turn it to their own throat.
As soon as Lawrence took the knife offered to him by Amati, the contract would be sealed.
Lawrence did not move. He'd had not the slightest inkling that Amati's infatuation would come to this.
"Mr. Lawrence." The words were as piercing as Amati's gaze.
Neither flimsy excuses nor disregard would sway the boy, Lawrence guessed.
Desperate to buy himself some time, he said, "It is true that Holo is indebted to me and that she prays for me as we travel to repay that debt, but she will not necessarily abandon our journeying once that debt is lifted."
"True. But I am confident she will for my sake."
A murmur ran through the crowd, which was impressed at Amati's audacity.
He didn't seem drunk, but he was the very image of Philip the Third.
"Also, while she may not be perfectly devout, Holo is a nun, which makes marriage—"
"If you are worried that I do not fully understand the situation, then your concern, sir, is misplaced. I am aware that Holo is unattached to any convent."
Lawrence snapped his mouth shut to avoid the expletive that came to mind.
There were two types of so-called traveling nuns. The first type were women in a church-sanctioned mendicant order that nonetheless lacked a fixed base of operations. The second type were totally self-styled, unattached to any Church organization.
Such self-proclaimed itinerant nuns made up the greater part of the group, and they referred to themselves as such simply for the convenience it afforded them while traveling. Since they were not officially attached to any Church organization, they were not disallowed from marriage the way true nuns are.
Amati knew Holo was a self-styled nun, so it was too late to arrange any sort of pretense with a convent now.
Amati continued speaking, his voice smooth and confident. "It is in truth not my desire to propose a contract to you thus, Mr. Lawrence. No doubt everyone here thinks me like Philip the Third from the tale of Haschmidt the Knight. However, according to Kumersun law, when a woman is indebted, her creditor is considered to be her guardian. Of course—"
Amati paused, clearing his throat, then continued, "If you will unconditionally assent to my proposal of marriage, there is no need for this contract."
This sort of rare competition over a woman made for the best drinking stories.
The assembled merchants spoke in low tones as they watched the developing drama.
Most experienced merchants would not take Lawrence and Holo's relationship at face value. It would have been the height of naiveté to think that an indebted nun was really paying off her obligation by praying for her creditor as they traveled. It was much more likely that she didn't want to be sold off by whoever held her debt or that she was traveling with him simply because she wanted to.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
Amati ignored the noise. He lowered his hands and spun the dagger around, gripping it by the blade and holding the hilt out to Lawrence.
"Miss Holo has told me of her misfortune and ill treatment. I thus propose to use my fortune and position as a free man to regain for her the feathers of freedom, and furthermore to wed her."
Lawrence instantly recalled Mark's words the previous day.
Men his age will do anything to gain the object of their obsession.
He regarded the hilt thrust at him with a bitter gaze and then looked at the parchment.
Amati was just far enough away that Lawrence could not make the writing out, but it surely reiterated what the boy had just said in more concrete terms. The red seal at the bottom left of the sheet was probably not wax, but blood.
In regions without a public witness, or when one needed a contract with far more weight than a public witness could provide, there was contract law. The party who put their blood seal upon the contract would give the knife they used to the opposite party and swear an oath in God's name.
If the first party failed to fulfill the contract, they would be bound to kill the opposing party with that knife or else turn it to their own throat.
As soon as Lawrence took the knife offered to him by Amati, the contract would be sealed.
Lawrence did not move. He'd had not the slightest inkling that Amati's infatuation would come to this.
"Mr. Lawrence." The words were as piercing as Amati's gaze.
Neither flimsy excuses nor disregard would sway the boy, Lawrence guessed.
Desperate to buy himself some time, he said, "It is true that Holo is indebted to me and that she prays for me as we travel to repay that debt, but she will not necessarily abandon our journeying once that debt is lifted."
"True. But I am confident she will for my sake."
A murmur ran through the crowd, which was impressed at Amati's audacity.
He didn't seem drunk, but he was the very image of Philip the Third.
"Also, while she may not be perfectly devout, Holo is a nun, which makes marriage—"
"If you are worried that I do not fully understand the situation, then your concern, sir, is misplaced. I am aware that Holo is unattached to any convent."
Lawrence snapped his mouth shut to avoid the expletive that came to mind.
There were two types of so-called traveling nuns. The first type were women in a church-sanctioned mendicant order that nonetheless lacked a fixed base of operations. The second type were totally self-styled, unattached to any Church organization.
Such self-proclaimed itinerant nuns made up the greater part of the group, and they referred to themselves as such simply for the convenience it afforded them while traveling. Since they were not officially attached to any Church organization, they were not disallowed from marriage the way true nuns are.
Amati knew Holo was a self-styled nun, so it was too late to arrange any sort of pretense with a convent now.
Amati continued speaking, his voice smooth and confident. "It is in truth not my desire to propose a contract to you thus, Mr. Lawrence. No doubt everyone here thinks me like Philip the Third from the tale of Haschmidt the Knight. However, according to Kumersun law, when a woman is indebted, her creditor is considered to be her guardian. Of course—"
Amati paused, clearing his throat, then continued, "If you will unconditionally assent to my proposal of marriage, there is no need for this contract."
This sort of rare competition over a woman made for the best drinking stories.
The assembled merchants spoke in low tones as they watched the developing drama.
Most experienced merchants would not take Lawrence and Holo's relationship at face value. It would have been the height of naiveté to think that an indebted nun was really paying off her obligation by praying for her creditor as they traveled. It was much more likely that she didn't want to be sold off by whoever held her debt or that she was traveling with him simply because she wanted to.

Output:
Freeing the poor, beautiful maiden from the bonds of debt was a moral imperative that justified this ridiculous display of gallantry, Amati must have felt.
And even if he didn't think this, Lawrence still came away looking like the villain.
"Mr. Lawrence, will you accept this contract dagger?"
The merchants looked on, grinning silently.
The traveling merchant was about to lose his fetching companion to the young fishmonger out of sheer inattentiveness.
It made for rare entertainment—and there was no acceptable way for Lawrence to escape.
His only option was to best Amati by being the nobler man.
In any case, he didn't believe that if Holo's debt were paid she would stop traveling with him just because Amati told her to.
"I am not so careless to agree to a contract I have not read," Lawrence said.
Amati nodded, withdrawing the knife and extending the contract to Lawrence.
Lawrence walked toward Amati, watched by everyone in the room, and took the parchment, scanning its contents quickly.
As he expected, what was written there was a more tortuously worded version of the declaration Amati had just made.
What Lawrence was most interested in was the amount that Amati proposed to pay.
What had Holo claimed her debt to be?
For Amati to be so brimming with confidence, it had to be a relatively small amount.
Finally, he found the amount in one of the lines of the contract.
For a moment, he doubted his eyes.
One thousand pieces of trenni silver.
Relief washed over him, bodily.
"I assume this contract is to your satisfaction?"
Lawrence checked again, making sure there were no obvious traps hidden in the contract's language. He also looked for any points he might turn to his own advantage.
But the contract language was stiff enough to leave no such room to trip up the first party.
Lawrence had no choice but to return Amati's contract.
"Understood," he said, handing the contract back to the boy and looking him in the eye.
Lawrence reached out to grasp the knife, and the contract was sealed.
Every merchant in the hall—and more importantly, the patron saint of the trade guild, Saint Lambardos—was witness to the dagger contract.
The merchants raised their voices in a cry, clinking their cups together, bringing an end to the entertainment.
Amid the din, the two men looked at each other and left the contract parchment and dagger with the firm's master.
"The terms of the contract extend until the end of the festival—sundown tomorrow, in other words. Will that do?"
Lawrence nodded. "Bring the thousand trenni in cash. I will not accept a partial payment or anything less than that."
Even if Amati was the sort of merchant that routinely hauled three wagonloads of fresh fish, there was no way he would be able to simply produce one thousand trenni. If he were that successful, Lawrence would know about it.
Of course, if it was stock whose worth amounted to a thousand trenni, that could easily be produced.
To put it in the ugliest manner possible, this agreement amounted to Amati buying Holo for a thousand pieces of silver. Assuming Amati had no intention of trying to resell her somewhere else, it was as though a thousand pieces of silver were simply moving from Amati's pocket to Lawrence's.
If that was the case, Amati would surely have problems paying for his next day's stock of fish. Even if by some wild chance Holo did accept his proposal of marriage, what awaited them was a difficult future. The minstrels might claim that coin could not buy love, but the opposite was also true.
"In that case, Mr. Lawrence, we'll meet again here tomorrow."
His face still betraying his heightened emotion, Amati strode out of the guild hall. No one said a word to him, and soon all eyes were on Lawrence.
If he did not say something here, all would think him a mere rube taken for a ride by the cleverer Amati.
Lawrence straightened his collar. "I don't expect my companion will follow him simply because her debt has been lifted."


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
Freeing the poor, beautiful maiden from the bonds of debt was a moral imperative that justified this ridiculous display of gallantry, Amati must have felt.
And even if he didn't think this, Lawrence still came away looking like the villain.
"Mr. Lawrence, will you accept this contract dagger?"
The merchants looked on, grinning silently.
The traveling merchant was about to lose his fetching companion to the young fishmonger out of sheer inattentiveness.
It made for rare entertainment—and there was no acceptable way for Lawrence to escape.
His only option was to best Amati by being the nobler man.
In any case, he didn't believe that if Holo's debt were paid she would stop traveling with him just because Amati told her to.
"I am not so careless to agree to a contract I have not read," Lawrence said.
Amati nodded, withdrawing the knife and extending the contract to Lawrence.
Lawrence walked toward Amati, watched by everyone in the room, and took the parchment, scanning its contents quickly.
As he expected, what was written there was a more tortuously worded version of the declaration Amati had just made.
What Lawrence was most interested in was the amount that Amati proposed to pay.
What had Holo claimed her debt to be?
For Amati to be so brimming with confidence, it had to be a relatively small amount.
Finally, he found the amount in one of the lines of the contract.
For a moment, he doubted his eyes.
One thousand pieces of trenni silver.
Relief washed over him, bodily.
"I assume this contract is to your satisfaction?"
Lawrence checked again, making sure there were no obvious traps hidden in the contract's language. He also looked for any points he might turn to his own advantage.
But the contract language was stiff enough to leave no such room to trip up the first party.
Lawrence had no choice but to return Amati's contract.
"Understood," he said, handing the contract back to the boy and looking him in the eye.
Lawrence reached out to grasp the knife, and the contract was sealed.
Every merchant in the hall—and more importantly, the patron saint of the trade guild, Saint Lambardos—was witness to the dagger contract.
The merchants raised their voices in a cry, clinking their cups together, bringing an end to the entertainment.
Amid the din, the two men looked at each other and left the contract parchment and dagger with the firm's master.
"The terms of the contract extend until the end of the festival—sundown tomorrow, in other words. Will that do?"
Lawrence nodded. "Bring the thousand trenni in cash. I will not accept a partial payment or anything less than that."
Even if Amati was the sort of merchant that routinely hauled three wagonloads of fresh fish, there was no way he would be able to simply produce one thousand trenni. If he were that successful, Lawrence would know about it.
Of course, if it was stock whose worth amounted to a thousand trenni, that could easily be produced.
To put it in the ugliest manner possible, this agreement amounted to Amati buying Holo for a thousand pieces of silver. Assuming Amati had no intention of trying to resell her somewhere else, it was as though a thousand pieces of silver were simply moving from Amati's pocket to Lawrence's.
If that was the case, Amati would surely have problems paying for his next day's stock of fish. Even if by some wild chance Holo did accept his proposal of marriage, what awaited them was a difficult future. The minstrels might claim that coin could not buy love, but the opposite was also true.
"In that case, Mr. Lawrence, we'll meet again here tomorrow."
His face still betraying his heightened emotion, Amati strode out of the guild hall. No one said a word to him, and soon all eyes were on Lawrence.
If he did not say something here, all would think him a mere rube taken for a ride by the cleverer Amati.
Lawrence straightened his collar. "I don't expect my companion will follow him simply because her debt has been lifted."

Output:
It was a salt merchant of Lawrence's acquaintance who offered his services as a bookmaker—he caught Lawrence's eye and grinned.
The fact that the odds for Lawrence were lower meant that the merchants in this hall thought Amati's chances of winning were worse. The sense of relief he'd felt at seeing the sum of one thousand trenni in the contract was not wild-eyed optimism. Common sense dictated that Amati had overextended himself.
The bets rolled in, the majority of them on Lawrence. The more money that was placed on his odds for victory, the more his confidence grew.
Though his blood had run cold momentarily when Amati had made his proposal of marriage, the odds of it happening in reality were low.
Not only were the numbers against Amati—Lawrence took solace in knowing there was another barrier he would have to surmount.
Amati could never marry Holo unless she gave her assent.
On this point, Lawrence had absolute confidence.
There was no way Amati could know that Holo was traveling with Lawrence to the northlands.
He had told Holo already that knowledge was a merchant's best friend and that an ignorant trader was like a soldier walking blindfolded onto a battlefield.
Amati's situation was a perfect example. Even if he did manage to run all over town and scrape together a thousand trenni, in all likelihood Holo would remain with Lawrence as they traveled north.
He mulled the subject over as he apologized to the master for the unavoidable commotion and then put the guild hall behind him.
It seemed prudent to leave before the merchants finished placing their bets and the attention returned to him. He did not want to be the appetizer for their drinking.
Once Lawrence made his way through the considerable crowd and out of the hall, he recognized a familiar face.
It was Batos, who had introduced him to Diana the chronicler.
"It seems you've gotten wrapped up in quite a to-do."
Lawrence grinned, embarrassed, at which Batos smiled sympathetically.
Batos then continued ominously, "However, I think the young Mr. Amati has hit on a way to raise the capital."
Lawrence's smile disappeared at Batos's unexpected statement. "Surely not."
"I can't say it's the most admirable method, of course."
He couldn't be doing anything like Lawrence did in Ruvinheigen.
Kumersun lacked the steep import tariffs of Ruvinheigen, and with no tariffs, there was no point in smuggling.
"It won't be long before the news is all over town, so I can't say too much. If I show too much support for you, it wouldn't be fair to poor Amati—after all, he screwed up his courage and made that impressive declaration. But I wanted to give you some warning."
"Why?"
Batos grinned boyishly. "Whatever the circumstances, it is a good thing to have a traveling companion. It's hard to watch one be taken from a fellow wandering merchant."
Lawrence felt the sincerity in the man's smile.
"You might do well to return to your inn and formulate a counterplan."
Lawrence bowed to Batos as though Batos was a business partner who had just agreed to very favorable terms on a very large deal, and then he hurried back to the inn.
Amati had found a way to secure the funds.
Lawrence had miscalculated, but there were still things between him and Holo that Batos knew nothing about.
He turned the situation over in his mind as he walked down the broad avenue, whose traffic was limited owing to the festival.
He was confident that there was no way Holo would be swayed by Amati.
When Lawrence had returned to the inn and explained the situation to Holo, her reaction was unexpectedly vague.
She had been surprised enough upon hearing the message that Mark's apprentice delivered, but now she seemed to find the grooming of her tail to be the weightier matter. She sat cross-legged, her tail curling around her lap as she tended to it.
"So did you accept this contract?"
"I did."
"Mm...," she said vaguely, looking back down at her tail. Holo was unimpressed; Lawrence felt sorry for Amati.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
It was a salt merchant of Lawrence's acquaintance who offered his services as a bookmaker—he caught Lawrence's eye and grinned.
The fact that the odds for Lawrence were lower meant that the merchants in this hall thought Amati's chances of winning were worse. The sense of relief he'd felt at seeing the sum of one thousand trenni in the contract was not wild-eyed optimism. Common sense dictated that Amati had overextended himself.
The bets rolled in, the majority of them on Lawrence. The more money that was placed on his odds for victory, the more his confidence grew.
Though his blood had run cold momentarily when Amati had made his proposal of marriage, the odds of it happening in reality were low.
Not only were the numbers against Amati—Lawrence took solace in knowing there was another barrier he would have to surmount.
Amati could never marry Holo unless she gave her assent.
On this point, Lawrence had absolute confidence.
There was no way Amati could know that Holo was traveling with Lawrence to the northlands.
He had told Holo already that knowledge was a merchant's best friend and that an ignorant trader was like a soldier walking blindfolded onto a battlefield.
Amati's situation was a perfect example. Even if he did manage to run all over town and scrape together a thousand trenni, in all likelihood Holo would remain with Lawrence as they traveled north.
He mulled the subject over as he apologized to the master for the unavoidable commotion and then put the guild hall behind him.
It seemed prudent to leave before the merchants finished placing their bets and the attention returned to him. He did not want to be the appetizer for their drinking.
Once Lawrence made his way through the considerable crowd and out of the hall, he recognized a familiar face.
It was Batos, who had introduced him to Diana the chronicler.
"It seems you've gotten wrapped up in quite a to-do."
Lawrence grinned, embarrassed, at which Batos smiled sympathetically.
Batos then continued ominously, "However, I think the young Mr. Amati has hit on a way to raise the capital."
Lawrence's smile disappeared at Batos's unexpected statement. "Surely not."
"I can't say it's the most admirable method, of course."
He couldn't be doing anything like Lawrence did in Ruvinheigen.
Kumersun lacked the steep import tariffs of Ruvinheigen, and with no tariffs, there was no point in smuggling.
"It won't be long before the news is all over town, so I can't say too much. If I show too much support for you, it wouldn't be fair to poor Amati—after all, he screwed up his courage and made that impressive declaration. But I wanted to give you some warning."
"Why?"
Batos grinned boyishly. "Whatever the circumstances, it is a good thing to have a traveling companion. It's hard to watch one be taken from a fellow wandering merchant."
Lawrence felt the sincerity in the man's smile.
"You might do well to return to your inn and formulate a counterplan."
Lawrence bowed to Batos as though Batos was a business partner who had just agreed to very favorable terms on a very large deal, and then he hurried back to the inn.
Amati had found a way to secure the funds.
Lawrence had miscalculated, but there were still things between him and Holo that Batos knew nothing about.
He turned the situation over in his mind as he walked down the broad avenue, whose traffic was limited owing to the festival.
He was confident that there was no way Holo would be swayed by Amati.
When Lawrence had returned to the inn and explained the situation to Holo, her reaction was unexpectedly vague.
She had been surprised enough upon hearing the message that Mark's apprentice delivered, but now she seemed to find the grooming of her tail to be the weightier matter. She sat cross-legged, her tail curling around her lap as she tended to it.
"So did you accept this contract?"
"I did."
"Mm...," she said vaguely, looking back down at her tail. Holo was unimpressed; Lawrence felt sorry for Amati.

Output:
"Listen, you."
"What?"
"What will you do if the boy actually gives you the money?"
He knew if he answered by saying "What do you mean, what will I do?" she would be unamused.
When she asked him questions like this, Holo wanted to know the first thing that came to his mind.
Lawrence pretended to think about it for a moment and then purposely gave a less-than-ideal answer. "After I'd calculated the amount you've used, I'd give it to you."
Holo's ears moved up slowly and she narrowed her eyes. "Do not test me."
"It's a bit unfair that I'm the only one who's tested, eh?"
"Hmph." Holo sniffed, unamused, then looked back down at the tail she tended to.
Lawrence had purposefully avoided saying the first thing that came to mind.
He wanted to test whether she had noticed that fact.
"If Amati should fulfill his part of the contract, I will certainly fulfill mine," he said.
"Oh ho." Holo didn't look up, but Lawrence could tell she wasn't really looking at her tail, either.
"Of course, you've been free all along. You may act as you wish."
"Brimming with confidence, aren't you?" Holo straightened her legs and dangled them off the edge of the bed.
It looked as if she was getting ready to spring upon him like she so often did, and Lawrence flinched but regained his composure and answered.
"It's not confidence. I merely trust you."
That was one way to put it.
There were any number of ways to indicate the same idea, but this one seemed the most gallant.
Holo was speechless for a moment, but her quick wits divined this soon enough.
She smiled and then stood up suddenly.
"In truth, you're much more charming when you're nervous."
"Even I can tell how much I've matured."
"So it's more adult to simply pretend composure?"
"Isn't it?"
"Having room to boast because you've seen a gamble that's to your advantage just means you're a bit clever. It does not an adult make."
Hearing the sage words of the centuries-old wisewolf, Lawrence made a suspicious expression, as though he were the subject of a shady sales pitch.
"For example, when Amati proposed the contract to you, would it not have been more admirable to refuse it?"
Far from it, Lawrence was about to say, but Holo cut him off. "But you looked around and judged whether or not you would be embarrassed."
"Uh—"
"Consider if our positions had been reversed. For example, thus—"
Holo cleared her throat, put her right hand to her breast, and began to recite:
"I cannot consider entering into such a contract. I wish to stay always with Lawrence. It may be a bond of debt that binds us, but it is still a bond. No matter how many different threads may entwine us, I cannot bear to cut even a one. Even if it shames me, I cannot accept your contract—or some such statement. What do you think?"
It was like a scene from a stage play.
Holo's expression had been absolutely serious, and her words echoed in Lawrence's heart.
"If someone said something like that about me, I would be beside myself with joy, I daresay," said Holo.
That was undoubtedly a joke, but she had a point.
Lawrence was not willing to simply admit her correctness—doing so was tantamount to admitting he was a coward who had only accepted the contract in order to avoid embarrassment. And in any case, being so frank and open in front of so many people was all well and good, but it would have had consequences.
"Well, that might have been the manly thing to do, but whether or not it's the adult thing to do is another issue."
Holo folded her arms, looking aside and nodding minutely. "True. It might be both the action of a good male and a reckless, youthful thing to do. One might be happy to hear it, but it is still rather rich."
"You see?"
"Mm. Now that I think on it, the actions that make a good male and those that make a good adult may be mutually exclusive. A good male is like a child. A good adult has a measure of cowardice."
It was easy to imagine a stalwart knight drawing his sword in anger at Holo's light dismissal of the male sex.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"Listen, you."
"What?"
"What will you do if the boy actually gives you the money?"
He knew if he answered by saying "What do you mean, what will I do?" she would be unamused.
When she asked him questions like this, Holo wanted to know the first thing that came to his mind.
Lawrence pretended to think about it for a moment and then purposely gave a less-than-ideal answer. "After I'd calculated the amount you've used, I'd give it to you."
Holo's ears moved up slowly and she narrowed her eyes. "Do not test me."
"It's a bit unfair that I'm the only one who's tested, eh?"
"Hmph." Holo sniffed, unamused, then looked back down at the tail she tended to.
Lawrence had purposefully avoided saying the first thing that came to mind.
He wanted to test whether she had noticed that fact.
"If Amati should fulfill his part of the contract, I will certainly fulfill mine," he said.
"Oh ho." Holo didn't look up, but Lawrence could tell she wasn't really looking at her tail, either.
"Of course, you've been free all along. You may act as you wish."
"Brimming with confidence, aren't you?" Holo straightened her legs and dangled them off the edge of the bed.
It looked as if she was getting ready to spring upon him like she so often did, and Lawrence flinched but regained his composure and answered.
"It's not confidence. I merely trust you."
That was one way to put it.
There were any number of ways to indicate the same idea, but this one seemed the most gallant.
Holo was speechless for a moment, but her quick wits divined this soon enough.
She smiled and then stood up suddenly.
"In truth, you're much more charming when you're nervous."
"Even I can tell how much I've matured."
"So it's more adult to simply pretend composure?"
"Isn't it?"
"Having room to boast because you've seen a gamble that's to your advantage just means you're a bit clever. It does not an adult make."
Hearing the sage words of the centuries-old wisewolf, Lawrence made a suspicious expression, as though he were the subject of a shady sales pitch.
"For example, when Amati proposed the contract to you, would it not have been more admirable to refuse it?"
Far from it, Lawrence was about to say, but Holo cut him off. "But you looked around and judged whether or not you would be embarrassed."
"Uh—"
"Consider if our positions had been reversed. For example, thus—"
Holo cleared her throat, put her right hand to her breast, and began to recite:
"I cannot consider entering into such a contract. I wish to stay always with Lawrence. It may be a bond of debt that binds us, but it is still a bond. No matter how many different threads may entwine us, I cannot bear to cut even a one. Even if it shames me, I cannot accept your contract—or some such statement. What do you think?"
It was like a scene from a stage play.
Holo's expression had been absolutely serious, and her words echoed in Lawrence's heart.
"If someone said something like that about me, I would be beside myself with joy, I daresay," said Holo.
That was undoubtedly a joke, but she had a point.
Lawrence was not willing to simply admit her correctness—doing so was tantamount to admitting he was a coward who had only accepted the contract in order to avoid embarrassment. And in any case, being so frank and open in front of so many people was all well and good, but it would have had consequences.
"Well, that might have been the manly thing to do, but whether or not it's the adult thing to do is another issue."
Holo folded her arms, looking aside and nodding minutely. "True. It might be both the action of a good male and a reckless, youthful thing to do. One might be happy to hear it, but it is still rather rich."
"You see?"
"Mm. Now that I think on it, the actions that make a good male and those that make a good adult may be mutually exclusive. A good male is like a child. A good adult has a measure of cowardice."
It was easy to imagine a stalwart knight drawing his sword in anger at Holo's light dismissal of the male sex.

Output:
Holo's smile remained.
Her arms still folded, she replied, "Why, I would smile and accept it, of course."
Her light, effortless smile as she so easily claimed to agree to the contract made Lawrence realize just how profound her confidence and ease was.
He would have had no such ideas.
It truly was Holo the Wisewolf that stood before him.
"Of course, upon accepting the contract, I would return to the inn and, saying nothing, draw near to you like so—," she continued, unfolding her arms and walking toward Lawrence, backing him up against the windowsill. She reached out to him. "Then I would look down..." Her ears and tail drooped, her shoulders slumped, and she looked positively miserable. If this was a trap, it would be impossible to see through.
Holo's snicker that came soon after was genuinely frightening.
"Still," she said lightly, "you're a good enough merchant. You entered the contract because you think you can win. No doubt you'll do some under-the-table deals just to make sure."
Holo looked back up, her tail and ears flicking playfully. She spun around and arrived smoothly at Lawrence's side.
He soon understood what she was getting at.
"'Take me to the festival,' is it?"
"Surely a fine merchant like yourself isn't shy of bribery to fulfill a contract, right?"
Lawrence's contract with Amati did not directly involve Holo, but the true issue was whether or not Amati's marriage proposal would succeed. To put it bluntly, one thousand pieces of silver might or might not find their way into Lawrence's pocket depending entirely on Holo's mood.
For his part, Lawrence could hardly afford not to bribe Holo, on whose judgment this all depended.
"Well, I've got to go gather information on Amati either way. I may as well bring you along."
"What you mean is you'll take me to the festival and gather information on the way."
"Fine, fine," Lawrence replied, sighing as Holo jabbed him in the ribs.
The first thing that needed to be investigated was Amati's assets.
Batos had said the boy was going to use some not altogether admirable methods to get the cash, which Lawrence guessed was probably true. He couldn't imagine that Amati could produce a thousand trenni out of nowhere.
But it would be trouble if Amati actually pulled it off, so Lawrence headed to Mark's stall to ask his cooperation.
As Mark kept his stall open for the duration of the fair, he had missed the commotion at the guild hall and so readily agreed to help. With rumors spreading like wildfire but so few merchants having actually seen Holo's face, Lawrence's bringing her along to the stall was quite effective.
If it meant Mark would get to see the developments from a front-row seat, Lawrence thought it was a small price to pay for whatever favors were required.
"And anyway, it won't be me that's running about the town," Mark added.
Lawrence felt bad for Mark's young apprentice, but his was a path every merchant had to travel—it was a complicated emotion.
"Still, is it all right to be running around with the beautiful maiden of the hour?"
"She wants to see the Laddora festival. And besides, if I locked her up in the inn, it really would look like I was keeping her bound by debt."
"So Sir Lawrence says, but what is the truth of it?" Mark asked Holo, smiling. Holo was dressed in her usual town-girl clothes with the fox skin muffler Amati had given her wrapped around her neck. She seemed to understand what Mark was getting at. "The truth is just that. I am bound by heavy chains of debt. Through them I can see no tomorrow, and from them I cannot escape. If you were to free me from them, I would happily coat myself in wheat flour working for you."
Mark's face immediately split as he erupted with raucous laughter. "Bwa-ha-ha! Oh, that poor Amati lad. Lawrence is the one bound by you, aye!"
Lawrence looked away, not deigning to respond. He could see clearly enough that going up against both Mark and Holo would lead only to frustration.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
Holo's smile remained.
Her arms still folded, she replied, "Why, I would smile and accept it, of course."
Her light, effortless smile as she so easily claimed to agree to the contract made Lawrence realize just how profound her confidence and ease was.
He would have had no such ideas.
It truly was Holo the Wisewolf that stood before him.
"Of course, upon accepting the contract, I would return to the inn and, saying nothing, draw near to you like so—," she continued, unfolding her arms and walking toward Lawrence, backing him up against the windowsill. She reached out to him. "Then I would look down..." Her ears and tail drooped, her shoulders slumped, and she looked positively miserable. If this was a trap, it would be impossible to see through.
Holo's snicker that came soon after was genuinely frightening.
"Still," she said lightly, "you're a good enough merchant. You entered the contract because you think you can win. No doubt you'll do some under-the-table deals just to make sure."
Holo looked back up, her tail and ears flicking playfully. She spun around and arrived smoothly at Lawrence's side.
He soon understood what she was getting at.
"'Take me to the festival,' is it?"
"Surely a fine merchant like yourself isn't shy of bribery to fulfill a contract, right?"
Lawrence's contract with Amati did not directly involve Holo, but the true issue was whether or not Amati's marriage proposal would succeed. To put it bluntly, one thousand pieces of silver might or might not find their way into Lawrence's pocket depending entirely on Holo's mood.
For his part, Lawrence could hardly afford not to bribe Holo, on whose judgment this all depended.
"Well, I've got to go gather information on Amati either way. I may as well bring you along."
"What you mean is you'll take me to the festival and gather information on the way."
"Fine, fine," Lawrence replied, sighing as Holo jabbed him in the ribs.
The first thing that needed to be investigated was Amati's assets.
Batos had said the boy was going to use some not altogether admirable methods to get the cash, which Lawrence guessed was probably true. He couldn't imagine that Amati could produce a thousand trenni out of nowhere.
But it would be trouble if Amati actually pulled it off, so Lawrence headed to Mark's stall to ask his cooperation.
As Mark kept his stall open for the duration of the fair, he had missed the commotion at the guild hall and so readily agreed to help. With rumors spreading like wildfire but so few merchants having actually seen Holo's face, Lawrence's bringing her along to the stall was quite effective.
If it meant Mark would get to see the developments from a front-row seat, Lawrence thought it was a small price to pay for whatever favors were required.
"And anyway, it won't be me that's running about the town," Mark added.
Lawrence felt bad for Mark's young apprentice, but his was a path every merchant had to travel—it was a complicated emotion.
"Still, is it all right to be running around with the beautiful maiden of the hour?"
"She wants to see the Laddora festival. And besides, if I locked her up in the inn, it really would look like I was keeping her bound by debt."
"So Sir Lawrence says, but what is the truth of it?" Mark asked Holo, smiling. Holo was dressed in her usual town-girl clothes with the fox skin muffler Amati had given her wrapped around her neck. She seemed to understand what Mark was getting at. "The truth is just that. I am bound by heavy chains of debt. Through them I can see no tomorrow, and from them I cannot escape. If you were to free me from them, I would happily coat myself in wheat flour working for you."
Mark's face immediately split as he erupted with raucous laughter. "Bwa-ha-ha! Oh, that poor Amati lad. Lawrence is the one bound by you, aye!"
Lawrence looked away, not deigning to respond. He could see clearly enough that going up against both Mark and Holo would lead only to frustration.

Output:
"I've checked it out," he said to Mark.
"Oh? Well done. What do you have?"
The apprentice greeted Lawrence and Holo as he delivered his report to Mark.
There was no question that what he wanted was not a reward from Lawrence or Mark, but a smile from Holo.
Understanding this, she graced him with her loveliest, most demure smile. Holo's undeniable mischief caused the poor boy to turn red all the way to his ears.
"So what have you learned?" Mark grinned at his apprentice, who flailed for a moment before answering. Knowing Mark, Lawrence was sure the poor lad had been teased for some time.
"Ah, yes. Er, according to the taxation records, he was taxed on two hundred irehd."
"Two hundred irehd, eh? So that'd make it...what, about eight hundred trenni that Amati has on hand that the city council is aware of."
With a few exceptions, every merchant with a certain amount of assets was subject to taxation. The amount was recorded in the tax ledger, and anyone with a reason to do so could examine the records. Mark had gone through his acquaintances to take a look at Amati's tax records.
But there was no guarantee that a merchant would report his assets to the city council accurately, so it was better to assume he had some amount hidden away. In any case, as a merchant, most of his worth would exist in credit with other sources.
But Amati wouldn't be able to easily produce a thousand silver pieces to buy Holo.
Which meant that if he truly planned to fulfill the contract, he would have to resort to either borrowing, gambling, or some other method of realizing short-term gains.
"Where's the town gambling hall?"
"Hey, just because we keep the Church in check doesn't mean it's a free-for-all. It's pretty much limited to cards, dice games, and rabbit chasing. There's also an upper limit on how much you can bet. He's not going to raise the money gambling."
Given the precision and detail with which he had answered the short question, it seemed Mark, too, was trying to work out how Amati could possibly raise the funds.
After all, Amati was essentially proposing to spend a thousand silver pieces on something he would never be able to resell, so any merchant would be curious as to the source of such wealth.
Lawrence was deep in thought, trying to decide what to investigate next, when Mark suddenly spoke.
"Oh, that's right. Apparently there's another bet on—about what's going to happen after the contract."
"After the contract?"
"Yes, if Amati wins the contract, who will be the victor after that."
Mark grinned provocatively; Lawrence turned away, his face betraying his irritation.
Holo had evidently taken an interest in the grain and flour laid up in Mark's shop, and she wandered about, listening to the apprentice's grand explanations.
She seemed to hear Mark and Lawrence and looked their way.
"But you've got the advantage as far as the odds go."
"Maybe I should demand the bookmaker give me a cut."
"Ha-ha-ha. So what are you actually going to do?"
Mark was obviously trying to get some information that would allow him to make some money on the wager, but he also seemed genuinely curious.
Lawrence only shrugged, not giving a proper answer to the question, but then Holo (who had evidently approached the two at some point during their conversation) spoke.
"Even if a question has a proper answer, sometimes one cannot simply give it away. For example, the mixing of your flour there."
"Erk—" Flustered, Mark shot his apprentice a sharp look, but the boy merely shook his head, as if to say, "I didn't tell her anything!" The mixing of the flour surely referred to its purity. Mixing in cheaper grades of flour with wheat flour to increase its volume was a standard merchant trick.
Even a merchant that dealt with flour day in and day out would probably have a hard time noticing small fluctuations in purity, but for Holo, whose very spirit resided within the wheat, it was simplicity itself.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"I've checked it out," he said to Mark.
"Oh? Well done. What do you have?"
The apprentice greeted Lawrence and Holo as he delivered his report to Mark.
There was no question that what he wanted was not a reward from Lawrence or Mark, but a smile from Holo.
Understanding this, she graced him with her loveliest, most demure smile. Holo's undeniable mischief caused the poor boy to turn red all the way to his ears.
"So what have you learned?" Mark grinned at his apprentice, who flailed for a moment before answering. Knowing Mark, Lawrence was sure the poor lad had been teased for some time.
"Ah, yes. Er, according to the taxation records, he was taxed on two hundred irehd."
"Two hundred irehd, eh? So that'd make it...what, about eight hundred trenni that Amati has on hand that the city council is aware of."
With a few exceptions, every merchant with a certain amount of assets was subject to taxation. The amount was recorded in the tax ledger, and anyone with a reason to do so could examine the records. Mark had gone through his acquaintances to take a look at Amati's tax records.
But there was no guarantee that a merchant would report his assets to the city council accurately, so it was better to assume he had some amount hidden away. In any case, as a merchant, most of his worth would exist in credit with other sources.
But Amati wouldn't be able to easily produce a thousand silver pieces to buy Holo.
Which meant that if he truly planned to fulfill the contract, he would have to resort to either borrowing, gambling, or some other method of realizing short-term gains.
"Where's the town gambling hall?"
"Hey, just because we keep the Church in check doesn't mean it's a free-for-all. It's pretty much limited to cards, dice games, and rabbit chasing. There's also an upper limit on how much you can bet. He's not going to raise the money gambling."
Given the precision and detail with which he had answered the short question, it seemed Mark, too, was trying to work out how Amati could possibly raise the funds.
After all, Amati was essentially proposing to spend a thousand silver pieces on something he would never be able to resell, so any merchant would be curious as to the source of such wealth.
Lawrence was deep in thought, trying to decide what to investigate next, when Mark suddenly spoke.
"Oh, that's right. Apparently there's another bet on—about what's going to happen after the contract."
"After the contract?"
"Yes, if Amati wins the contract, who will be the victor after that."
Mark grinned provocatively; Lawrence turned away, his face betraying his irritation.
Holo had evidently taken an interest in the grain and flour laid up in Mark's shop, and she wandered about, listening to the apprentice's grand explanations.
She seemed to hear Mark and Lawrence and looked their way.
"But you've got the advantage as far as the odds go."
"Maybe I should demand the bookmaker give me a cut."
"Ha-ha-ha. So what are you actually going to do?"
Mark was obviously trying to get some information that would allow him to make some money on the wager, but he also seemed genuinely curious.
Lawrence only shrugged, not giving a proper answer to the question, but then Holo (who had evidently approached the two at some point during their conversation) spoke.
"Even if a question has a proper answer, sometimes one cannot simply give it away. For example, the mixing of your flour there."
"Erk—" Flustered, Mark shot his apprentice a sharp look, but the boy merely shook his head, as if to say, "I didn't tell her anything!" The mixing of the flour surely referred to its purity. Mixing in cheaper grades of flour with wheat flour to increase its volume was a standard merchant trick.
Even a merchant that dealt with flour day in and day out would probably have a hard time noticing small fluctuations in purity, but for Holo, whose very spirit resided within the wheat, it was simplicity itself.

Output:
She gave the unfriendly smile that was her specialty.
Mark now shook his head frantically, much like his apprentice, as they looked to Lawrence with beseeching eyes.
"At this point, all we can do is observe our opponent's actions," said Lawrence.
"How treacherous."
Holo's sharp appraisal pierced Lawrence's heart.
"I'd be happier if you called it a hidden contest. He'll certainly have someone watching our moves as well, you know," Lawrence said.
Mark recovered his composure enough to differ. "I wonder about that. Amati ran away from home and came alone all the way to this town, achieving all his success independently. And there's his youth to consider. He's very self-confident. Not only does he not give much thought to the connections between merchants, he would probably consider tricks like that beneath him. He trusts only in his eye for good fish and his ability to sell them. That and the protection of the gods."
Amati sounded more like a knight than a merchant to Lawrence, who found himself envying the boy's ability to achieve such success on his own.
"That'd explain why he'd fall so hard for a charming girl who'd just arrived in town," Mark continued. "The townswomen are even more closely connected than the merchants. They seem to care only about reputation and are always watching each other. If one starts to stick out a little more, the others beat her down. I'm sure he finds it distasteful. Of course, not all women are like that, as I found out when I married my Adele."
As a traveling merchant, Lawrence well understood Mark's explanation. The town could certainly look that way from the outside.
Lawrence glanced sideways at Holo. He felt that yes, if he was in similar circumstances and saw a girl like Holo, he might well fall for her instantly—all the more so if he thought she was just an ordinary girl.
"Amati may well be as you say, but I will not hesitate to use any connection I need to. Treachery may be forbidden when knights duel, but there's no crying in a contest of merchants."
"I surely agree," said Mark. He looked at Holo.
Lawrence likewise looked at her again. Holo put her hands to her cheeks in a gesture of embarrassment, as though she had been waiting for the moment, and spoke.
"I wish just once someone would attack me from the front."
No doubt Mark was finally realizing, Lawrence mused, that there was no winning against Holo.
In the end, Lawrence decided to use Mark's connections to get more information on Amati. He made sure to mention to Mark the peddler Batos's hint regarding Amati's potential reserves of capital.
Lawrence trusted Holo, but there was no telling what she would do if he rested on his laurels in this contest. And there was always the possibility of being able to make some money in Amati's wake.
Holo and Lawrence couldn't very well hang around Mark's shop all day long, so after Lawrence asked Mark to help him with information, they put the stall behind them.
The town was becoming livelier and livelier, and the crowds did not diminish at all as they passed from the market to the plaza.
Midday approached, and people lined up in front of every stall alongside the road. Holo was not shy about lining up herself, clutching the money she'd relieved Lawrence of.
Lawrence watched her from afar, thinking it was just about time for the midday bell to ring, when he heard a low, lazy tone sound.
"A horn?"
The horn's sound made him think of shepherds, and for a moment, he remembered Norah and the danger they had faced together in Ruvinheigen. If the keen-eyed Holo saw through him, though, it would be trouble.
Lawrence chased the thought from his mind and tried to see where the sound came from just as Holo returned, bearing the fried bread she'd managed to successfully buy.
"Did I not just hear a shepherd's horn?" she asked.
"You did. I wasn't sure, but if you call it a shepherd's horn, then it must be so."
"It fairly overflows with the scent of food here. I cannot tell if there are sheep or not."