CHAPTER 26
With Everett’s greeting, click, the door locked, and the sound of curtains quickly being drawn followed.
Yankeller was left alone in the narrow alley behind the building.
His eyes, fixed on the tightly shut door, glared as if trying to bore a hole through it.
“Did she just call me Yan?”
See you next time, Yan.
That’s definitely what he heard.
The final word Everett spoke echoed swiftly in his ears.
“I never told her my name. How does she know? And not Yankeller, but Yan?”
The only person who called him Yan, aside from his family, was Kyle.
Yankeller wanted to barge back in and question Everett immediately.
He raised his fist, about to knock—
But murmuring voices came from the other side of the door.
Yankeller let out a shallow sigh.
“Guess there’s no helping it today.”
Leaving the alley, he headed straight for Pan’s Magic Tool Shop.
How does that fortune teller know my name? And those cards—what’s the deal with them?
Yankeller wasn’t just curious about Naz’s identity.
He was more intrigued by the tarot cards she used.
The moment she pulled them from the wooden box, it felt like the air left his lungs.
It wasn’t Everett’s graceful hand movements that captivated him—it was the cards.
The magical cards that Everett had been so impressed with, saying they were perfect for tarot.
Those were made by Yankeller, long ago.
A creation he had completely forgotten about.
If my memory’s right… I made them using the magic Pan taught me to apply effects to paper. And I think I gave them to him as a gift, to thank him.
They were never meant for sale.
It was just a practice project, mimicking a familiar object—clumsily made.
If I’d planned to sell them, I wouldn’t have engraved all those symbols on the back.
Yankeller’s pace quickened as he neared Pan’s shop.
“Pan!”
He burst through the door, calling the shop owner’s name.
“Welcome back! So, how was your consultation with Lady Naz?”
Pan, busy organizing items, greeted him with a bright smile.
“Pan, do you remember those cards I made and gave you a long time ago?”
“Huh? Cards?”
“The ones I made using the magic you taught me—those hundred white sheets.”
“Oh, those cards… Why do you ask?”
Pan’s flustered reaction confirmed Yankeller’s suspicion—those were the cards the fortune teller used.
Pan scratched his head sheepishly.
“Uh… I’m sorry, Yankeller. You gave them to me as a precious gift, and I ended up selling them. I should’ve asked you first…”
Yankeller’s brow twitched.
Thinking he was angry, Pan quickly bowed.
“I’m an idiot. Selling something so valuable… But honestly, it was just paper to me. She, on the other hand, really knew how to use it…”
It had been a gift, after all.
Yankeller didn’t care how Pan used it—but he didn’t say that out loud.
“You say she seemed like someone who’d use them well?”
“Yes. She was looking for sturdy, stiff cards. I showed her a few options, and that one came to mind. It felt like it was made for her.”
Pan’s voice lit up as he recalled the moment but quickly lowered it again.
“Ahem. I always say this, Yankeller—you know it too. Magical tools… always find their rightful owner.”
Yankeller nodded gravely, saying nothing.
“But… Yankeller, how did you know I sold them?”
Ignoring the question, Yankeller asked back:
“To whom did you sell them? Do you remember?”
“Of course. I sold them to Miss Everett.”
Yankeller’s eyes widened.
“W-Who?”
“A young noblewoman named Everett Gronzie. She’s a regular here. Works with Daisy from Kuna. Haven’t you seen her? She sometimes eats there.”
Yankeller could hardly breathe.
Everett… Gronzie.
Her sparkling black eyes and the charming dimple on her cheek flashed in his mind.
“Hey, uh… Pan, is Lady Gronzie by any chance… mute?”
As he waited for an answer, cold sweat ran down Yankeller’s back.
“What? Mute? Goodness no—she talks plenty! Honestly, too well for a merchant like me to handle.”
Pan waved his hand and chuckled.
Everything was upside down.
The tangled threads of confusion only grew messier.
I met Everett this spring in front of the temple.
At the time, she was being harassed by a trainee priest.
She didn’t scream or cry out… I thought she couldn’t speak.
Yankeller replayed the memory in his mind.
Why did I assume she was mute just because she didn’t scream?
He let out a hollow laugh between tightly closed lips, shocked at his own assumption.
I just accepted it without question… never even tried to hear her voice afterward.
He thought he was being considerate.
“Pan, why did Lady Gronzie buy those cards? They’re not exactly toys.”
Pan shook his head.
“I’m not sure. She wanted thick, stiff cards, and those were perfect. Ah, and she said she liked the symbols on the back.”
“Symbols?”
“Yes, the markings you engraved. I asked what they meant, and you told me they had no particular meaning, remember?”
Yankeller suddenly felt dizzy. His legs wobbled, and he wanted to collapse.
The Everett Gronzie I met at the temple could speak. She bought the cards I made from Pan’s shop. And now, the one using them is the tarot reader, Naz.
Could there be another Everett Gronzie?
Or did Everett buy the cards, and someone else is using them?
Please, let Naz not be Everett.
Yankeller considered every possibility. But the conclusion was always the same:
Everett Gronzie… is the fortune teller, Naz.
Then, he recalled the fortune teller’s face in the sunlight.
Ah… those eyes…
He’d thought Naz’s black eyes reminded him of Everett’s.
“Hah… hah…”
Yankeller let out an incredulous laugh.
So… she said she liked the symbols? What does that even mean?
Just when he thought he had untangled the web, everything was a mess again.
“Yankeller, are you feeling alright? You look pale. Was Naz’s prophecy not to your liking?”
Parched, Yankeller grabbed a glass of water and drank it all at once.
“No, no. The consultation with Naz was excellent. Thank you, Pan. I should get going.”
His reflection in the mirror on the table looked pale enough to faint at any moment.
He didn’t want to move, but he had no choice.
It was time to return to the temple—and more importantly, he had to tell Kyle what had happened.
“Take care, Yankeller.”
He didn’t even hear Pan’s farewell as he staggered out of the shop, dazed.
“Yankeller, welcome. Please review these documents.”
“Yankeller, I need to discuss the trainee priest training program.”
“Um, Yankeller…”
As soon as he arrived at the temple, the waiting priests swarmed him.
There was a mountain of work to do, but he didn’t want to do any of it.
Yankeller waved them off irritably, silently telling them to get lost.
The priests, startled by his uncharacteristic demeanor, backed away.
He went straight to his room, collapsed on the bed, and stared blankly at the floor.
Everett… That Everett was the fortune teller…
He remembered how boldly she had glared at the large trainee priests without fear—that had captivated him.
When he saw her reading magic books in the library, he was elated.
Sharing tea at the café, the way her black eyes focused on his stories had made his heart race.
That night, he had even searched through his notebook, organizing notes on magic tool creation—so he could share them with her next time.
He rubbed his face with both hands.
What a fool I was… completely deluded…
But what truly bothered him wasn’t just the embarrassment and anger.
It was the fact that—even in the midst of all that—he felt happy to have talked to her.
“Hah…”
With a sigh heavy enough to shake the ground, Yankeller looked at his desk.
There, in front of the neatly arranged books, was a small stone.
“…A light stone.”
Identical to the one from the shaking shelf.
His first gift to Everett, whom he met at the Imperial Library.
“This… is the final, undeniable proof that the fortune teller is Everett.”
Staring blankly at the light stone, Yankeller suddenly sprang to his feet.
“There’s no time for this. I have to write to Kyle, now.”
Trying to shake Everett from his mind, Yankeller violently shook his head, then pulled out a piece of stationery and began writing Kyle’s name.
