~ Chapter : 12 ~
“What do you mean?”
“My power. You never mentioned it before.”
Litiah narrowed her eyes sharply.
“I thought if I told you everything, you might run off. I need at least one card up my sleeve.”
“What did you say?”
“Anyway, I won, didn’t I?”
Litiah bit her lip at the ease in his tone, which gave off no hint of regret.
“You don’t know how difficult that was for me. Give me back my power quickly. The mark on my shoulder… that’s your doing, isn’t it? Remove this one too while you’re at it.”
She turned her back slightly to point at her shoulder. It was in a place she could only see herself in a mirror, so she pressed near it with her hand.
“Hmm.”
Caliph paused ominously.
“Hurry up.”
Litiah pressed him to return it quickly.
“No.”
The firmness in his voice made Litiah gape slightly. Did he just say no? Her gaze sharpened again.
“I’m not joking. Caliph, it may be just a game to you, but not for me. If I can’t use my power even tomorrow—”
“It’s not because of me that you can’t use it.”
“What did you say?”
“Because you didn’t accept me.”
“…Because I didn’t accept you?”
“The more you tried to erase my traces, the weaker your power became. Tell me, when you could finally use your power again, what were you thinking?”
Litiah snapped her mouth shut at those words. She remembered how desperately she had sought him. Was that really the reason? Before that, she avoided using her power because she wanted to erase his traces? How could such a thing exist?
She lowered her gaze to the floor, lost in thought. Only when Caliph carefully lifted her chin with a gentle hand did she raise her eyes.
“No….”
Litiah murmured without realizing it.
“And it’s impossible to completely remove it.”
“…Impossible?”
“I can do it, but you might die. Do you really want that?”
Startled by the extreme statement, Litiah hesitated, unable to speak and stared at Caliph.
“What is this? Why would I die?”
“I told you, it’s irreversible.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t use my sacred power. You never said that, remember?”
Litiah recalled the events of that day vividly as she spoke. Caliph looked slightly troubled.
“It’s not working.”
“Stop joking!”
Litiah’s frustration flared. Her heart felt like it was being worn down, yet he treated her as if this were all some kind of game or amusement.
“Alright. I can’t give you everything.”
Caliph took Litiah’s hand. She didn’t pull away, quietly waiting, hoping he wouldn’t playfully tease her again. She just wanted him to return her power quickly.
His lips touched the back of her hand.
He pressed his lips down while looking directly at her, but Litiah, unable to meet that burning gaze, averted her eyes.
He slowly lifted his lips after pressing firmly.
“Huh….”
There was nothing left to ask.
Litiah inhaled sharply, almost like a short sob.
It was as if a previously blocked path had opened. Even without forcibly releasing her sacred power, a refreshing sensation spread through her body.
This time, the prickling discomfort that had always lingered at the bottom was gone. It was a strong sensation she had never felt, not even before she first came here to train her power. Physiological tears welled up naturally.
Could it really be released this easily? Was she truly free now? He said he couldn’t give her everything, but the strength she felt now seemed far stronger than her original power. At this rate, there would probably be no need to seek it again…
Blinking, Litiah said,
“…Is it done? Is it really done? Has it returned to normal?”
“Hmm.”
“What does that mean?”
“Just a precaution.”
“…A precaution?”
“What if you run off the moment I return it all? You just thought that, didn’t you?”
Litiah flinched. She had only thought about whether she would need to look for it or not. He was sharp.
She gave up. After all, she had already accepted defeat in the week-long bet from the start when she went looking for him.
“…You promised to take responsibility for what you said. Fine, you win.”
Litiah pouted.
Caliph looked at her with interest and said,
“Really?”
“As long as you don’t just make things difficult for me. If you do, there’s no reason for me to obey you.”
“Hmm, alright. I’ll try to behave. What else should I do for you?”
The moment Litiah conceded, Caliph acted as if he would grant anything immediately. Litiah, who had expected more teasing, felt puzzled.
Was it really something to be so pleased about? Didn’t he just say he would do as he pleased? Just moments ago, it had felt like a threat.
What exactly did this man find so appealing about her?
They had been in the same moment of time…
“It was just a night with a very remarkable man,” she thought. That was how she could sum it up. Probably Caliph felt the same—he was far more relaxed than she was.
It all seemed strange.
It was their first meeting, and while the night extended into one, there was no time to build a close relationship. Truly just one night.
Honestly, Caliph had been impressive. Even while adjusting to Litiah’s body, amidst the chaos, he had captured her gaze with intensity.
Moreover, he had relieved her anxiety, freed her from her frustrations, and even brought joy.
Even if her feelings weren’t complicated, or if her current situation weren’t so restrictive, she might not have resisted that night.
Even if she wanted to continue, Litiah was tied down by many limitations.
Duke Mont was far scarier than expected. He hesitated at nothing to remove obstacles. The day Litiah fell into the lake, all the guards and servants had been executed. Only Emilia, the closest, survived with a month-long house arrest.
She could hardly imagine the merciless beheadings.
Anyone who stood in the way of Tenia’s path was removed—no exceptions.
Later, she heard that letting Zite’s relationship slide was because he was insignificant and would be removed eventually anyway.
According to Emilia, upon seeing Litiah kick Zite away, Duke Mont had been pleased that his daughter finally came to her senses.
No wonder he had kept someone like Zite around—he didn’t even consider it worth his attention.
But Caliph? He was a man capable of controlling the most crucial sacred power of a saint. Litiah didn’t know how he did it, but if Duke Mont found out, would he remain indifferent?
She couldn’t risk harming innocent people.
And she wondered.
Who could suppress someone else’s power so casually?
It seemed impossible. Could he be one of the Orbs?
But in the original story, meeting Theos or the Orbs was rare unless necessary, so the chance was slim…
According to Litiah, Orbs had no distinguishing features. If they had even horns, it would have been easy to identify them.
Words like impurity, outlaw, disaster, and a sense of darkness and discomfort—those didn’t suit Caliph. He carried the aura of a true noble.
“As long as I can use my power, I need nothing else.”
So she deliberately responded coldly.
Caliph brought his hand to her cheek.
Instinctively, Litiah pulled back.
Instead of her cheek, he held her long, silvery-soft hair in his hand.
“You can use it whenever you want.”
“Whenever?”
“And I can help you anytime.”
“Why?”
“Because I said I would. So how about lowering your guard, like that day? Otherwise, it doesn’t feel like you’ve won. Hmm?”
He whispered.
Litiah hesitated, then spoke, driven by curiosity.
“Maybe…”
“Hm?”
“You’ve never seen me before, or watched me for a long time… right?”
“Is this just an extension of ‘love at first sight’?”
Embarrassed, Litiah nodded cautiously.
Caliph looked as if suppressing a laugh. Litiah blushed even more.
“No. I saw you for the first time that day.”
“Really?”
“And you probably know…”
“Know what?”
“Who I’m interested in.”
“…”
“Is that enough of an answer?”
“More than enough.”
“So you still won’t tell me your real name?”
“….”
Litiah shut her mouth again.
Another reason she didn’t want to get further entangled—she disliked how he spoke as if he already knew her true self.
She didn’t know what he knew or how much he knew. Even if he knew everything, she had no intention of submitting.
Why give anyone the satisfaction of knowing your weakness?
This man was dangerous in every way.
It was regrettable she realized it only after one night. So before Caliph could say anything, Litiah raised her head.
“My name is Litiah. I have no other name. And is that really your real name?”
She stated it bluntly, then countered. Clearly, there was no noble name “Caliph.” She had checked whether it was a first or last name. He might not be noble, but if that were the case, he couldn’t have entered the banquet.
“It’s my real name. Why, did you look it up?”
“No.”
Litiah replied immediately.
Caliph laughed, amused. His eyes glinted, as if he knew something.
