<Episode 10>
‘Gambling? He’s hopeless.’
A boy who looked to be in his late teens was yelling at a girl a head shorter than him.
It was a shady alley, sure, but even though they were being loud, no one cared enough to look their way.
And I recognized the girl immediately.
“P-Please! C-Can’t I pay you back double next time?”
“Ha! It’s money you got from my dad anyway, isn’t it? Hand it over. I need it right now!”
The thug raised his right hand as if to strike.
Smack!
“Argh! Wh-What the—!?”
“What do you mean ‘what’? You just got smacked with the thing you like most—money.”
Ting—
I flicked a gold coin straight into his forehead, then pulled out another from inside my robe and spun it between my fingers. The sunset caught it, making it gleam.
The punk stared at me, stunned, then stammered in confusion.
“A real… gold coin…? Wh-Who are you…?”
“Bite it if you want to check. I’m just a wealthy passerby.”
To prove it, I tossed a few dozen gold coins at his feet and gave him a wicked smile.
“Take it all. But don’t touch that girl again. And get out of my sight.”
“G-Gasp! O-Of course! Th-Thank you! Thank you so much, noble lady!”
He hurriedly scooped up the coins like someone might steal them from him, stuffed them into his clothes, and scurried off.
The alley fell silent immediately.
‘Tsk. Give it an hour and those coins will turn back into rocks.’
If you “accidentally” miscalculate the magic, the transformation fades and returns to its original form. Magical ability isn’t about the amount of magic power alone.
“Um… Th-Thank you…”
The girl shrank back, looking up at me with big, timid eyes like a fawn.
She looked around fifteen, skinny, and she was the waitress who had reheated my stew earlier at the restaurant.
“Why did you help me? You… you spent so much money because of me…”
“Just because. The meat stew I ate earlier was delicious.”
“W-What? But that’s the least impressive dish on our menu…”
“Still tasted great to me.”
Come to think of it, I did ask for the worst dish they had, just to compare it with the potato bread at Winter Castle.
And yet it was so good that I forgot all about that plan.
The girl flusteredly explained,
“That stew… I-I made it out of leftover cuts of meat and vegetables… Actually, I’m sorry. I-It was made by me, not a real chef…”
“What?”
“M-My mom taught me the recipe! I didn’t mean to trick any customers… but the head cook said it would be an… insult for him to make it… and told me to do it instead…”
“Wait. So you made that stew?”
“Y-Yes.”
Wow.
A spark exploded in my head.
I pushed back my hood and gently touched her cheek, still red from fear.
A warm red shimmer seeped into her skin. Not healing—only saints can do that—but a spell to dull the pain.
“You said it was for your mom’s medicine, right? You looked like you really needed the money.”
“Y-Yes… My mother has a rare illness.”
“I’ll give it to you.”
Her dark brown eyes widened.
“…What?”
“The money. As much as you need—no, more than that. And anything else you want, I’ll give you.”
‘Guess good deeds really do bring fortune.’
Just when I was about to give up, fate dropped the perfect opportunity right into my lap. I am not letting go.
I was more desperate than when I begged the Grand Duke to grant me asylum.
“Come stay at my home and cook three meals a day for me.”
Though it’s not really my home—and it isn’t even an ordinary home—but that infamous Winter Castle.
Coco.
A seventeen-year-old girl who had been doing odd jobs at an inn-restaurant in Northstelan’s 3rd district.
Now Coco sat inside a carriage, accompanied by the angel—or possibly demon—who had invited her.
‘Is this… really Winter Castle? C-Could this be real?’
The man in the black robe sitting in front of her radiated a chilling aura that made Coco shrink back.
Sensing her fear, Irenne—who had introduced herself as a guest of the castle—patted Coco’s back reassuringly.
“It’s alright. Don’t be scared. He’s insanely handsome.”
Not exactly comforting.
Handsome or hideous didn’t matter; Coco couldn’t even imagine looking directly at his face hidden in shadows.
She didn’t dare wonder who he was.
“Y-Yes…”
Even though she was terrified, Coco nodded. Her body trembled a little, but with the carriage rattling, she hoped it wasn’t noticeable.
‘I have to make a good impression.’
After all, right after she accepted the sudden job offer, Irenne had immediately handed her several hundred gold upfront for her mother’s treatment.
Then, saying Coco might get swindled, Irenne personally escorted her mother to a proper clinic for in-patient care.
After the mother and daughter cried their eyes out in relief…
Coco somehow ended up with her luggage packed, sitting in Irenne’s carriage headed for “home.”
She was so overwhelmed she had nodded even when asked if she was fine with the fact that the “home” was Winter Castle.
But honestly, even if she had been in her right mind, Coco wouldn’t have refused.
‘I owe her so much. I’ll do anything she asks.’
…As long as it’s not killing someone.
While the tiny cook-to-be vowed something completely unrelated to cooking, suppressing even the instinctive fear of magic…
The owner of that magic, Davior, watched the humming Irenne and recalled their conversation earlier.
“Master. Aren’t you curious about what it’s like outside the castle?”
“Stop circling around it. State your purpose.”
“I want to test whether you can stay awake outside the castle if I’m with you!”
It was a baseless claim—yet strangely convincing—so he’d agreed.
And the result?
‘…Nothing happened the entire time we were outside.’
Normally, he would have lost consciousness instantly.
He would have fallen into that familiar, suffocating sleep, wandering through nightmares, fighting the magic that gnawed at him since that day a hundred years ago.
That day, Davior’s soul had been tainted by malicious magic—
And ironically, that magic had made him half-divine.
‘Giselle would say she expected this.’
The witch had always trusted Irenne’s existence. Like someone who glimpsed the future and spoke with blind confidence.
But Davior disagreed with her.
He expected to fall asleep the moment he stepped outside the gate, and he had estimated how long until he might awaken again.
To him, that was the only logical conclusion.
“Why are you staring like you’ve got something to say?”
Long black hair like ebony, and eyes the color of fresh blood.
Irenne Valtres narrowed her gaze at him.
Instead of answering her question, Davior voiced the impression she had stirred in him.
“There’s still no trace of divinity from you.”
“That’s… obviously true.”
“There should be. That’s what makes sense.”
“…Are you sleep-talking with your eyes open?”
Only divinity had ever been able to suppress magic.
The pure, ancient divinity that dwelled within Winter Castle.
That too had weakened over the last century, but the difference between inside the castle and out was still vast.
It was that very reason he had once intended to kidnap a saint and drag her back to Bellmeier.
But then—
“I’ll use magic for your sake.”
An unprecedented exception appeared.
A woman with no divinity whatsoever, who still allowed him to stay conscious simply by being near him.
And the instant Irenne had said those words before—he had unknowingly overlapped her with someone else.
“Let me use magic for you.”
A reflection of his past self,
And of the woman with eyes of golden dawn…
“Live a long life, Davior. I’ll be reborn and come find you again.”
“What the— Did you fall asleep? You can’t fall asleep now.”
The jarring voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and Davior opened his eyes.
He met her ruby-like gaze immediately.
“I’m awake.”
“Eek! Warn me next time.”
“You want me to announce that I’m opening my eyes?”
“That’s how startled I was.”
Despite the primal fear caused by magic, Irenne had adapted. Far from shrinking back, she grew bolder by the day.
He didn’t know much about her—
Only that she was a mage with far less power than he once had.
That watching her stirred old ghosts he didn’t want to recall.
That she resembled and yet didn’t resemble the woman who now lived only in his memories.
And—
“…You’re loud.”
“I’ll be quiet. It’s suffocating here but in a good way.”
She clamped her lips shut with a grumble. Honestly, it wasn’t her voice that was loud—
It was her existence.
Ever since her arrival, Irenne Valtres had been drifting noisily through his mind, refusing to leave.
