Chapter 15
I Pawned My Life
“Wah!!”
Startled, Irina let out a near-scream and spun around sharply.
There stood a somewhat familiar face, mimicking Irina’s posture and looking in the same direction she had been looking.
Her heart thumped wildly.
“…Damian?”
“Bingo! Wow, you remembered my name? I’m touched.”
“You scared me half to death!”
Irina pressed a hand to her chest, exhaling heavily.
“Are you okay? Did I really scare you?”
Despite his large frame, Damian fussed over her in an almost comically gentle way.
“…I’m fine. What are you doing here?”
Was there anyone normal in this place?
As Irina’s expression began to sour, Damian seemed to realize he’d messed up and hurried to explain.
“Well, you were so focused on looking at something that I got curious. Sorry if I startled you.”
“Mm, okay. You can go on your way now.”
Irina turned her gaze back to what she’d been watching before.
But Damian just stood there again, mirroring her pose.
Sensing the stillness behind her, Irina turned again.
“You’re not leaving?”
“Me?”
“Who else?”
Her tone made it clear how ridiculous she found this, and he hesitantly pointed forward.
“I’m supposed to meet someone, but… they look kind of busy right now. So I can’t go.”
Irina followed the direction of his finger.
“Oh. You mean to the right, or the left?”
“The tall one who looks like a lamppost.”
“Ah…”
He meant Howard.
So he’d been watching the same person as her.
Irina turned back to Damian.
“Why did you come to see him?”
“Well, he’s a friend of mine.”
“Ah?”
Right. Casey had mentioned that he’d be visiting his place.
Remembering that, Irina nodded and turned her face forward again.
Her neck was starting to ache from constantly turning back and forth.
“And you, my lady—who are you here to meet?”
he asked in a whisper.
“Could you… take a step back first?”
Only when she said that did he retreat slightly.
“Ah, sorry.”
“No need to apologize. Hmm… a friend, I suppose?”
Friend? Enemy?
…Fiancé?
She mentally shuffled through those labels and picked the one that felt the most distant.
“I see. So you came here to visit your friend? Or are you traveling with your friend?”
“Um… both, maybe?”
Damian tilted his head as though thinking deeply.
“Both? That’s complicated. Still, I’m glad to see you here. Maybe we’re destined to meet?”
What in the world was this man saying?
Irina almost slipped into a dialect that had long vanished from the western region of Arendor.
She frowned and looked toward Howard, answering firmly.
“We haven’t met three times yet, so I doubt it’s destiny. Let’s call it coincidence.”
“In Borman, they say meeting twice makes you soulmates.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not from Borman.”
“Che.”
It didn’t look like this conversation would ever end.
Irina quickly changed the subject.
“So that guy is your friend, huh?”
“Yep, a friend. Why, do you like him?”
Why was the conversation going this way again?
Irina couldn’t follow his train of thought.
If she had to answer—
“No. I really, really don’t like him.”
“Wow, then we are destined! If you’d said you did like him, I’d be heartbroken—but I was planning to introduce you. He’s a good guy, though. I’m better, obviously.”
“Ah… yes. But could you please be a little quieter?”
Because I can’t hear what they’re saying.
She was about to add that, but by then the two men had already moved further away, out of earshot.
When did they walk off?
Giving up on eavesdropping, Irina asked,
“You’ve known him long?”
Damian’s face lit up—apparently delighted she’d asked.
“No, not that long. About two years, maybe three?”
“I see.”
“But friendship isn’t measured by time, you know. Want me to tell you how we met?”
“No, not really… I mean—yes! Please do.”
As soon as she said no, his eyebrows drooped pitifully, so she corrected herself quickly.
And besides, it wasn’t like knowing more about Howard’s past would hurt.
“It sounds fascinating.”
“Really? So here’s how it happened…”
He began reminiscing.
“I was at the Borman border, fighting eighteen men alone. Winning, of course. And that guy showed up. Wait—was it twenty-eight to one? Or thirty-eight? No, maybe fifty-eight to one.”
Irina, who’d been listening quietly, asked,
“Can I ask why the number keeps changing?”
“Ah, well, I don’t remember the exact number, and saying it too precisely would sound like a lie.”
“It already sounds like a lie.”
“Really? Should I lower it a bit, then?”
“Does it matter?”
Damian clenched a fist dramatically, clearing his throat.
“Not really. Anyway, the point is—I was winning. That’s important. I was winning, but he came along and helped out a little. I was winning, though!”
Irina ignored his insistence and pressed on.
“Right. And then?”
“We beat them all, of course. I have to admit, that guy’s pretty skilled.”
“Oh, really? You didn’t get hurt?”
“Nope. Amazingly, neither of us got a scratch.”
“That’s good. So that’s when you became friends?”
Irina leaned in, intrigued. Damian looked even more pleased.
“Yeah. When the fight ended, I made him an offer right away.”
“What kind of offer?”
He cleared his throat and struck a heroic pose.
“‘You! Be my comrade!’”
He even winked like someone shooting Cupid’s arrow.
“…Ah. I see.”
She wanted to pretend she hadn’t heard it.
To ignore it.
To erase every trace of this conversation from her memory.
That primal urge pulsed violently through her brain.
“Uh, that was a joke, by the way.”
He seemed to notice her expression and quickly backpedaled.
“Anyway, that’s how we became friends.”
“I see. Quite the dramatic story.”
“Right? But that’s not even the most surprising part!”
“What’s the surprising part?”
Damian leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially.
“That guy’s getting married soon.”
Ah.
“To someone other than me.”
“Right.”
Irina answered flatly, unimpressed, and Damian rolled his eyes.
“Ah, so he’s not your type, huh? Then how about me?”
“…”
Irina pressed her lips into a thin line, and Damian hurriedly corrected himself.
“Joking again! I once saw an old portrait he kept in his drawer, though. The woman was stunning.”
Irina’s ears perked up despite herself.
It was purely instinctive.
After all, praise could make even a legendary Pegasus dance.
Or not.
“She was beautiful, you say?”
Suddenly he didn’t seem so annoying anymore.
Maybe even… kind?
Irina fought to keep her lips from curling upward.
“Yeah. That bastard’s a thief—stealing a beauty like that.”
“Not a thief. Maybe a kidnapper?”
A con artist and a blackmailer, too!
Irina added, and Damian clapped silently in amusement.
“Kidnapper? Oh, that does sound worse. I like it. So you think so too, huh? Anyway, thief or kidnapper, what matters is—he’s marrying before me. He left me behind.”
Something about the word left caught her attention.
That friendship… was that really friendship?
Or something more?
“Ah, so your type is…”
Irina began gently, but Damian waved his hands in panic.
“No, no! Don’t get me wrong. I’m just jealous my friend’s marrying before I am.”
“You don’t have a lover?”
Her innocent question hit him like a punch.
“My lady! You can’t just hit a man in the gut like that on our first—or pseudo-first—meeting.”
“All right, sorry.”
“Anyway, that portrait—it was old and faded, so I couldn’t see clearly. But her hair looked like melted milk tea. Or maybe a light gold? Hard to tell.”
He spoke dreamily, recalling the image.
“Her eyes sparkled like jewels. Like… amber stones set in her face…”
Then his voice suddenly trailed off as their eyes met.
He stared hard at her.
“Hmm. That’s strange. She looked an awful lot like you… but that must just be my imagination, right?”
He rubbed his chin, frowning in puzzlement.
Irina shrugged.
“It’s not your imagination. But thank you for the compliment. I’ll be sure to remember it.”
Then, mimicking him earlier, she gave him a playful wink.
He gaped.
“No way. The portrait was prettier, though!”
Irina glared daggers at him.
He laughed, then suddenly froze, eyes widening.
“Oh my god. You’re serious?”
Irina nodded casually.
“Then why didn’t you say so?”
“You didn’t ask. And you didn’t give me the chance. You were too busy talking about your 18-to-1 fight.”
“Was I? Damn. So you came here for him? Wow, they say love knows no borders—but you’re proof!”
Damian kept exclaiming in awe.
“So, my lady, you didn’t come to Voltier for travel, but to immigrate?”
“To correct you—he came to fetch me.”
More precisely, kidnap me.
As they spoke, the person Howard had been talking with disappeared, leaving only Howard walking toward them.
“He’s coming. He’s coming,” Damian muttered.
“Can I tell him what we were just talking about?”
“Wow, so this is how strong our friendship is?”
“We’re like… first-timers who’ve met before, remember?”
“They say friendship blooms even in the chaos of war.”
“This isn’t a war zone.”
“You’re so cold-hearted.”
They bickered lightly until Howard stopped right in front of them.
Irina looked up at him.
“…Hi?”
The look in his eyes asked plainly why she was here alone without an attendant.
Then his gaze shifted slightly past her shoulder.
“And who’s this… stray?”
“Stray? What stray? Oh.”
Irina turned to see Damian standing right behind her, waving brightly.
He wasn’t a bad person.
If anything, she felt a little sorry for him.
“Oh, we were just chatting. You know I don’t know anyone here since I’m from a foreign country.”
She emphasized the fact deliberately, and Howard’s head tilted ever so slightly, his expression darkening.
