BSPD 145

CHAPTER 145……………………………………………….

“Why on earth did you do that? At least give me a reason.”

Without lifting his eyes from the documents he was reviewing, Epiros reprimanded Luce.

“I don’t know. Me neither.”

Luce, standing crookedly, replied with a bored shrug.

“So there are things even you don’t know.”

“Seems so. First time I realized it myself.”

Neither the scolding nor the scolded showed even a hint of sincerity.

“You know very well that ignorance is no excuse.”

“I know that much.”

“Take responsibility and pursue Haron.”

He would have done so even without the order. Luce nodded obediently.

“You may leave.”

Just before exiting the room, Luce turned back one last time.

“…Epiros.”

“You insolent brat. What is it now?”

“Do you think of me as a monster too?”

For the first time since Luce had entered the office, Epiros lifted his gaze from the papers.

His brow furrowed slightly.

“Of course. Otherwise, why do you think I spent all those long years educating you and keeping you under control?”

Right. He hadn’t expected anything different. That man had never tried to hide it from the beginning.

So why, now of all times, had he wanted an answer?

“Then do you think I’m just pretending to be human? And what do you think is the reason I can’t abandon this name?”

“You have a lot of questions today. Unlike you.”

“Just answer.”

“Pretending… perhaps. Though rather than imitation, I’d say it’s more accurate to describe it as longing for something you’ve never had.”

“Something I’ve never had?”

Luce pondered what it could possibly be.

Beauty. Magical power. Intellect. He had everything—what could he lack?

“I see that look. What you lack is the most basic and essential thing that makes someone human.”

“And that is?”

“Altruism. Consideration. Affection. What people commonly call love.”

“Love?”

Luce tilted his head. A concept he had never seen nor heard of directly—something humans talked about endlessly, vague and formless.

“Epiros… you don’t seriously believe that actually exists, do you?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well, how romantic of you. Our great leader.”

“It’s an emotion all humans possess. One they’ve shared with someone at least once.”

“So you’re saying I don’t have it?”

“Well, who knows? I wouldn’t know. What do you think? Do you believe you don’t?”

“Answering a question with a question. Forget it. I’ve lived just fine without that nonsense.”

“Just because you didn’t have it before doesn’t mean you never will. Someone like that will appear for you too. A lover, a family member—whoever it may be.”

Luce’s hand paused on the doorknob. Then, quietly, he murmured a wish from long ago.

“Could that person… have been you?”

A wish so old he could barely remember it anymore.

Without waiting for an answer, he left the leader’s room.

“Then I’ll just find them.”

He wasn’t foolish enough to repeat the same mistake twice. Once, he’d let it slip away right before his eyes—but not again.

Luce immediately resumed his pursuit of Haron.

And several more years passed.

When Luce finally returned to the tower, a young mage summoned him.

“Epiros did? Why?”

“I—I’m not sure… He just told me to have you come to his room….”

What a bother.

He was probably going to interrogate him about Haron again. There still hadn’t been any real progress.

But what Luce heard in the leader’s room was completely unexpected.

“…You want me to handle the request that came into the tower? Specifically me? There are plenty of freeloaders lying around—why me?”

“How many times must I repeat myself? The leader of Rihvielra personally sent the request to the Magic Tower.”

“The leader of Rihvielra—that old gee—”

“That’s enough. They’re the ones you offended years ago. Consider this a chance to make amends. Handle it sincerely.”

“Epiros, this is—”

“I will hear no objections. Go.”

“Ha….”

Changing the leader’s stubborn stance seemed impossible.

Luce ran a hand through his hair and vanished. He only wanted to finish it quickly.

The young woman who was supposedly the client was sleeping in the carriage. Amazing how she could sleep through all that shaking.

“Wake up.”

“Mmm….”

“Wake up. What kind of manners are these—calling someone out and then falling asleep?”

“…Huh?”

That dazed face as she rubbed her sleepy eyes—he had a feeling he’d remember it for a long time.

Rinnegrim Faehill was a strange woman. They said she was Edward Faehill’s daughter, and she truly resembled him in many ways.

She had risked everything to protect her family, tried to love them, and in the end, saved them.

Watching her cry was amusing. It was entertaining, even. That was why she’d gotten away with headbutting Luce and surviving.

Watching her was enjoyable.

Meeting her again in the imperial palace, while tracking traces of dark magic, was pure coincidence.

She looked unwashed, her under-eyes dark from lack of sleep. Her voice was hoarse, and she staggered as if she might collapse at any moment.

And yet, she seemed to glow.

What the dark mages were plotting was classified even within the tower. The reason for involving Rinnegrim was simple.

He wanted to tie together a thread that would never break.

[“With Lord Luce’s help, we discovered a faction attempting to spread a plague in the imperial palace. Thanks to that, we were able to identify its source.”]

Though she sometimes meddled unnecessarily, Rinnegrim was sharp. Foolish yet wise. Simple, but thoughtful—never boring.

Someone he wouldn’t mind keeping by his side for a long time.

Then he needed a stronger bond. A heavy, sturdy thread to bind her to him.

What kind of relationship could never be severed?

Luce already knew the answer.

Those he tried to forget but never could. Those still vivid in his memory even after so long—whether good or bad.

The most certain bond of all. The parents who had once been Luce’s family.

[“Want to do it with me? That family thing. Let’s do it. With me.”]

It may have been impulsive, but it wasn’t a lie.

[“You just proposed to me! In the most inappropriate situation imaginable! And I’m politely rejecting you!”]

So he didn’t care if Rinnegrim got angry. If becoming family was the surest way to bind her to him, the form didn’t matter.

But there were others around her. Many others besides Luce.

And that was unbearable.

“…It’s irritating.”

Irritating.

The crown prince who called himself her friend. The knight commander who always watched her. All of them irritated him.

Luce suddenly wondered what to call this feeling.

It felt close to possessiveness. Or maybe obsession.

If so, then it was a perfectly human emotion—wanting to keep what was yours. Didn’t other humans feel the same?

Whenever that surge of emotion rose up, Luce dismissed it as nothing more.

He realized it wasn’t that simple when he saw Rinnegrim cry again.

[“I was scared! You didn’t tell me anything when I was trapped in the greenhouse, and because of that collaborator I almost died again! You still won’t tell me anything—what am I supposed to do?!”]

Her tears were no longer amusing. His chest stung.

Was this really possessiveness? Feeling miserable because something he owned was crying? No—that couldn’t be it. Whether a treasure cried or not wouldn’t matter as long as he possessed it. The treasure’s feelings would be irrelevant.

So what was this?

[“Just wait a little longer. Just until I’m sure.”]

[“Sure of what?”]

[“That I don’t need anything but you.”]

The moment when he would care for only her, no matter the crown prince shattered by the princess’s betrayal or anything else.

The decisive moment when Luce finally defined his feelings came in the snowy mountains.

While Luce was melting the snow golems, Rinnegrim was swallowed by an avalanche.

It felt as if the world had flipped upside down. He couldn’t tell front from back.

He wanted to clear away everything in sight—everything that wasn’t Rinnegrim.

He’d forgotten he’d placed a protection spell on her. She wasn’t in front of him, and it drove him mad.

[“I kind of miss him. That Luce guy.”]

When he finally found Rinnegrim. And when Rinnegrim found him.