Chapter 57
He used magic to make Mary lose consciousness.
She would sleep deeply for several hours and only wake near dawn, around the time Dalia was due to arrive. And even then, because of the side effects, she would likely remain groggy and dazed for quite a while.
‘Dalia would hate me if she found out about this too.’
The situation was already the worst it could be, and now he’d just added another reason for her to resent him.
Khalid sighed and carried Mary back to her room first.
‘What am I supposed to do now…?’
Once he returned, Khalid buried his face in his hands in despair. No matter how long he thought, he couldn’t come up with any clever way to make this all seem like a trivial matter.
He couldn’t bring himself to use the same memory-erasing spell he’d once cast on Hansen. That kind of magic, if used recklessly, could damage a fragile human mind — and in rare cases, regress it to an infant-like state.
Dalia had been so happy when she heard about that maid.
Even just that morning, she had been full of praise for Mary, chattering on about her kindness and skill.
Even if the chances were small, if Mary were to end up brain-damaged because of his spell’s side effects… Dalia would never forgive him.
‘So my only choice… is to wait. Wait until the maid recovers enough to run her mouth again, and just sit here doing nothing in the meantime?’
From dusk till the dim hour before dawn, Khalid was tormented by phantom echoes of Mary’s piercing screams.
He didn’t even dare imagine Dalia’s reaction once she came back.
The only thing he was certain of — it wouldn’t end with a bit of sulking or irritation like the night before.
He wasn’t even aware of how much time had passed when a figure approached, startling him.
‘The maid? She’s awake already?’
Earlier, she’d come at him with a dagger and a box full of strange tools — was she now bringing a torch to “purify” some wicked monster? The flickering light swayed closer and closer down the hall.
As he debated whether to hide or subdue her, a familiar voice came from the corridor.
“…”
Dalia peeked her head around the corner.
Khalid blinked blankly at her.
He’d been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even recognized her familiar presence.
“I’m back.”
“…Mm.”
His voice came out hoarse, as though his throat were being squeezed shut.
At the same time, a faint, desperate hope flickered inside him.
Maybe—maybe she hadn’t seen Mary yet. Maybe there was still a chance to see her smile again.
“I heard from Mary.”
“…I see.”
He lowered his eyes in resignation. No doubt Mary had painted a horrifying picture of what had happened.
Then came a faint clink — the sound of something being set down.
“I brought water.”
Instinctively, Khalid flinched away as a wet towel came toward his face.
“Why are you dodging? I’m not the one who got stabbed.”
“I know.”
Even when he leaned back to avoid her, Dalia reached forward, undeterred, leaning over the bed to dab at him with the towel.
“Then why—?”
“When you hear something ugly, you wash your ears. You clean them, and forget.”
“….”
The sharp tension in him dissolved in an instant.
Of course washing his ears wouldn’t erase anything, but—
Her logic was nonsense. And yet, somehow, it made him want to laugh.
He forced himself to sound brusque, hiding his expression behind a gruff tone.
“…You don’t need to worry. I won’t hurt that maid.”
“I know. Stop saying silly things and give me your other ear.”
“….”
“Turn your head this way.”
“….”
When he didn’t move, her small hands reached up and gently cupped his cheeks.
Letting himself be guided, he turned his body slightly — and felt the cool touch of the damp towel brush the curve of his left ear. The sensation raised goosebumps down his neck.
Her once-steady hands hesitated, and Khalid suddenly grew nervous for no reason.
“What… is it?”
“You’ve got goosebumps. You too.”
“I… have goosebumps?”
“No, I told you not to say bad things. I meant your skin, not you.”
Her fingertips brushed down his arm where the fine hairs had risen. She never finished her sentence.
Before she could, the surge of conflicting feelings — relief, desire, fear — made Khalid grab her wrist and pull. Dalia fell backward with a startled gasp.
“…”
In a blink, he was above her. He hadn’t even had time to fully shift back into his human form — his clothes were half undone, and she wore only a thin chemise, fresh from washing up after her trip.
His rational mind screamed to apologize, let her go, while another part of him — the one that wanted her close — refused to move.
Beneath him, Dalia’s eyes widened in shock. Then, unexpectedly, she reached out — not to push him away, but to lift her free hand toward his face.
‘From that angle… she’s going to slap me.’
He shut his eyes, ready to take it — to let her hit him until her anger cooled, then apologize.
But instead of a strike, her fingers brushed his cheek and slid behind his neck, pulling him gently down.
The soft pressure of her hand was feather-light… yet more than enough to shatter his restraint.
Their bodies pressed together — leaving no space between them.
“Are you really not afraid of me?”
“Stop asking that and just hand me the bowl.”
As she opened her mouth like a little bird, he carefully spooned in the soup, still dazed.
“Did you know,” she said between bites, “if you ever became a chef, you’d be a huge success?”
“Me?”
“Yes. I’d hire you as my personal cook in a heartbeat. Though honestly, I have no idea how much I’d have to pay you.”
“You wouldn’t have to pay me. I’d cook for you anytime.”
“Ugh. You really don’t get jokes, do you?”
“….”
Instead of replying, Khalid rubbed his face with both hands.
What had happened the previous night — their first night together — still felt unreal.
He had clung to her, unable to let go.
When dawn came and she grew flustered with embarrassment, he had snuffed out every candle.
When daylight began to creep in, he drew the curtains. Roy came by to say that Sylvia had arrived, but Khalid silenced the noise outside with a spell and sent him away.
It wasn’t until Dalia, too weak to even lift a finger, complained that she was hungry, that he finally snapped back to himself and went to make soup.
Truth be told, Dalia felt just as awkward about it all.
Her attendants had been worried that if she returned too early, their employer might think they hadn’t done their job properly — that she hadn’t enjoyed herself enough to justify the expense. Their mission had been to ensure she had a joyful, memorable trip.
So they kept urging her to take her time and sightsee a little more.
But she couldn’t shake a sense of unease. Something felt wrong. So she insisted on returning early.
‘And, of course, my bad feeling turned out to be right. These ominous instincts never fail, do they?’
Even in her groggy state, she had struggled to calm the tearful, hysterical Mary. And as she made her way toward Khalid, her steps had grown heavier and heavier.
Her heart was a tangled mess of emotions — she couldn’t even define what she felt for him as she prepared the water to wash his ears.
But the moment she saw him, crouched and terrified like a wounded beast, only one thought filled her mind.
She didn’t want him to hurt. She didn’t want him to suffer.
‘Monster or not, I don’t care anymore. If this isn’t love, what else could it be?’
The disappointment she’d felt after visiting the Temple of Tempus — the god who was supposed to answer her prayers — melted away like snow.
‘Come to think of it, that was strange…’
Sensing her distant thoughts, Khalid cautiously asked,
“So… what happened at the Temple of Tempus?”
“Oh, don’t remind me. Everyone kept staring at me — it was mortifying.”
She had practiced what she wanted to say countless times, but when the moment came, courage had failed her.
After some rambling complaints about how chaotic the trip had been, she finally blurted out the truth.
“Actually… I’m living my second life.”
“…I see.”
“You’re not surprised?”
He accepted it so easily.
Dalia frowned — she’d even prepared a whole explanation to convince him.
But right now, Khalid would have believed her if she’d said she was a water spirit born from a lake’s reflection.
“So anyway, I went to find the god who saved me.”
“That’s Tempus, right?”
“Exactly. I thought if I prayed in His temple, He might give me an answer. But I waited for hours, and nothing happened…”
Her voice trailed off as she reached for her folded clothes on the bed.
“Instead, I got this clock. You know what it is, don’t you?”
He did. He recognized the relic of Tempus — and how it worked.
When he nodded silently, Dalia smiled faintly and fiddled with the cover.
“Whenever I used it before, it drained my strength. But now… it doesn’t. Even when I use it, I don’t feel weak anymore.”
“…What?”
The calm expression on Khalid’s face hardened instantly. Dalia didn’t notice; she was still staring at the clock, muttering.
“He didn’t give me the answer I wanted. Maybe this clock is His answer? But that’s so vague. It’s not even a proper answer, is it?”
“Wait.”
He held out his hand, and she passed him the clock without hesitation.
“….”
A moment later, he handed it back — but his face was unreadable, as obscure as the god’s own reply.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing’s changed,” he said quietly.
“Huh? That’s impossible. Then what—?”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he closed his eyes, took her wrist, and focused.
After a long silence, he opened his eyes again.
Looking at her with a complicated expression, he finally spoke.
“You’re the one who’s changed.”
