Chapter 43
“Ah.”
“I’m joking. Keep it on. It might be too hot against your bare skin.”
Carlton shrugged and draped his jacket over Belia’s shoulders.
Because of his characteristically expressionless face, Belia only realized belatedly that it had been a joke. She nodded slowly.
“Thank you.”
Belia lowered her head as she carefully clutched the jacket.
Her hair slid down, exposing the nape of her neck and her ears. A faintly glowing violet mark shimmered just beneath her reddened ear.
Carlton’s gaze lingered there.
“Oh, come to think of it—did you manage to get what you wanted from that place?”
Belia, cheeks still flushed, jerked her head up.
“What I wanted?”
“Yes. You were searching for something that time, weren’t you?”
Carlton recalled the black magic crystal he had obtained at the old academy building.
He had been forced to use it on the curse mark etched into his body, since his internal injuries were severe.
Using such a crystal would only deepen the wounds in the long run, but at that moment he had needed magic—if only briefly.
He looked at Belia.
Without it, teleporting her would have been impossible.
“Why?”
“What?”
“Is there something on my face?”
Belia tilted her head when she noticed him staring in silence.
“No.”
Carlton turned his head away.
Later, when he had recovered, Karin had exploded in fury upon hearing the full story.
“When did you suddenly become so considerate? You should’ve used it to trace Bain’s trail! And you wasted it on your cursed mark?! Do you even realize your life is tied to that thing? Do you seriously have a death wish? Do you even know what force is keeping you alive right now?”
Her words had been so correct, so irrefutable, that Carlton hadn’t been able to talk back.
At every crossroad in his life, his standard had always been Bain.
“Will this help me find him? Could this be related to him?”—those were the questions by which he had chosen every path.
He had become Tower Master simply to freely access black magic. He had accepted every summons from nations under the title of “neutral zone leader,” all in hopes that Bain’s trace might lie within their borders.
“By any chance… that purple crystal you used, was it the one from the academy?”
Belia asked cautiously.
Carlton looked at her and slowly nodded.
“Yes.”
“Ah, I thought so. Then… did you use it because of me?”
Belia bit the inside of her cheek.
“It seemed important… but you used it to send me home, didn’t you?”
Carlton faltered.
“…Strange.”
“Pardon?”
Even now, he couldn’t explain why he had made that choice.
He had needed both the crystal and Belia if he wanted to find Bain. Rationally, he should have turned his remaining strength toward Karin and rescued Belia later.
But when he had seen Belia’s wound, he had chosen without hesitation—foolishly.
“…Why?”
“What?”
Belia frowned at his cryptic muttering.
As he sat lost in thought, she lifted the drink she had picked up following Allendo’s lead.
“Cough!”
“You all right?”
Carlton’s eyes widened.
“Hck—! Cough!”
She sputtered and coughed uncontrollably until he reached out and patted her back.
“It’s liquor.”
She had tasted it before—enough to know how weak she was to alcohol.
“You okay?”
“Ah, yes, I’m fine.”
Belia smiled, though her cheeks were already tinged red.
“More importantly… could I ask about that incident eight years ago? In more detail?”
“What about it?”
Belia rubbed her temple, already feeling dizzy.
“Well… do you know anything about someone named Rene?”
“What?”
Carlton’s confused reaction made her tense.
“Yes. You said before that though neither of us remember clearly, we were together eight years ago. I wanted to know if someone called ‘Rene’ was there too.”
“Rene?”
Carlton thought for a moment, then shook his head.
“No. That’s the first I’ve heard the name.”
“Ah… I see.”
The anticipation that he might know something drained into disappointment.
Rene had once claimed to have helped kidnap her eight years ago.
And Carlton had said that eight years ago, he had met her alongside a man named Bain.
Since the timelines overlapped, she had hoped Carlton might know Rene too.
“Who is this person?”
“Ah… no one.”
“Did you remember something? Did something come back to you?” Carlton pressed urgently.
“…Just the name. I think I heard it back then, that’s all. I was wondering if you knew.”
“Rene…”
Carlton’s expression hardened. In all his pursuit of Bain, he had never once encountered that name.
Belia stayed silent, watching him.
Rene is the one who claims she was the real daughter of the marquis family, and that I was the imposter. She says she helped in my abduction eight years ago, and that we were switched. If that’s true, then maybe Bain was involved as well.
If she said that out loud, perhaps the conversation would progress more easily.
But she couldn’t bring herself to.
It was difficult enough to admit she had regressed—but there was an even heavier truth weighing on her.
“I’ve been meaning to ask.”
“Hm?”
Carlton looked at her, drawn from his grim thoughts.
“That man, Bain… he’s a bad person, isn’t he?”
His eyes flickered at the unexpected question.
“A bad person?”
“An evil man.”
Carlton hesitated. He had never thought of Bain in terms of good and evil. But if he judged based on the fragments of memory he still carried… Bain could hardly be called good.
“…If you divide it that way, then yes. Closer to evil.”
“I see.”
If Rene’s words were true, then she herself might be evil too.
“Why do you ask?”
“No reason.”
Belia fiddled with her glass, a complicated expression clouding her face.
The thought that she might not even be the real one—that she might be an imposter—gnawed at her.
In her previous regressions, she had always tried to prove her identity, convinced of it. But now… that confidence was gone.
Anxious, she gripped her glass tightly.
“Ugh.”
She tipped it back in frustration.
“Young Lady?”
Carlton startled.
“Bitter…”
She knew even one glass could knock her flat. But for now, she wanted to forget the turmoil in her head, if only briefly.
“Could I… ask you for a favor?”
“A favor?”
“Just one more drink…”
Normally, she would never have dared make such a ridiculous request. But with her reason blurred, the words slipped out.
“You want another?”
After a moment’s thought, Carlton turned toward the glass doors. He pulled back the curtain, focused on something, and snapped his fingers.
“Huh. There it is.”
He couldn’t create something from nothing, but moving an existing object was simple enough.
In the noisy party hall, no one noticed a single glass vanish from a table.
He closed the curtain again and returned to Belia’s side.
“Young Lady.”
Two glasses shimmered faintly on the railing—already emptied.
“Hm.”
Belia leaned weakly against the balcony, humming to herself.
“You all right?”
“Heh—of course.”
“You seem… odd.”
“What do you mean?”
Her flushed cheeks reminded him of when Karin drank too much.
“You’re drunk, aren’t you?”
“Drunk? Me? No way!”
“…Guess denial of intoxication is universal.”
“Wow, look at the moon!”
Belia bounded about, excited as a child, while Carlton propped his chin on his hand and watched.
“Why is it…”
Whenever he was with her, he felt an unfamiliar strangeness.
Even now.
When Karin was drunk, he only found it pathetic. But Belia…
“…Cute.”
It was the first time he had said the word, but it fit her perfectly in this moment.
Maybe this was what Karin had meant, when she would coo that even the smallest, most insignificant creature could be “cute.”
“They’re sparkling.”
Belia now stared at the empty glasses glinting on the railing.
Carlton watched her quietly.
“We need to meet again.”
He spoke, though she paid no attention anymore.
If they met once more, he had planned to discuss those fragments of memory—those overlapping voices from eight years ago he had heard at the academy.
Today, he had done so many unnecessary things, so unlike himself.
Even coming here had been unnecessary.
Why had he dressed in such formal attire? Why had he abandoned the chaos that awaited tomorrow, just to be here?
What reason had compelled him?
Why was he worrying about this young lady?
