Episode 6: Pretty Like a Jewel
“I’ve never seen such a big candy before either.”
Azelta said with a smile — and it didn’t sound like a lie.
I nodded.
“Me too! The candy was…”
I almost blurted out “Why was it as big as a shield?”
But I stopped myself. I had to remember — Nasia de LeBois was a little girl who had never seen either a shield-sized candy, or even a shield or any candy at all.
“It was huge! Like this big!”
I stretched my arms wide, making a big circle.
“I see. From now on, you’ll get to eat lots and lots of delicious things.”
Azelta pulled the fluffy blanket up over me, tucking it all the way up to under my neck. It was so high that it felt suffocating, so I tried to push it down a bit. My small hand popped out of the white blanket. Holding the edge of it, I looked up at Azelta.
“So until then, you have to rest well. Otherwise, you won’t be able to eat delicious food. The doctor even said that when you’re fully rested, we should give you lots of tasty food.”
Lots!
Azelta emphasized the word and made a big circle with her arms — just like I had earlier.
She really knew how to deal with children. I nodded.
“I’ll rest.”
…Though I couldn’t give up on making my hideout.
Still, if I wanted to escape a life of eating only porridge and pursue the joys of good food, I had no choice.
The key to long life is listening to your doctor.
One of the few lessons I learned in my pathetic previous life. I had forgotten it because, as Nasia, I’d never had a proper doctor.
“It really is getting better.”
I rustled the blanket as I thought. Eating and sleeping under the covers for several days had made a noticeable difference. My body felt better, and especially my vision. I’d thought the world looked blurry because of fog, but it turned out I just couldn’t see properly from exhaustion.
‘You don’t need to worry. Rest and eat well — you’ll recover. Sometimes even I can’t see well when I’m tired.’
Delphiro had reassured me repeatedly.
In short, it was just fatigue, and I would get better with rest.
But the more he insisted, the more obvious it became that he was the one overworked.
Sir, is your vision okay…?
As my vision sharpened, things I hadn’t noticed before finally came into view — like the back of the knight standing guard at the hallway leading into my room.
“Huh?”
…No, not exactly his back — just the edge of his coat.
“Azelta.”
“Yes, milady?”
I pointed toward the coat — or rather, toward the knight who had stood unmoving for days.
“Who is that?”
I didn’t mean what his job was — obviously a knight — but what kind of person stood there without sleeping or eating for days?
At first I assumed different people were taking turns, since I hadn’t seen his face.
But over time, it was obvious. If someone else rotated in, something would have changed — posture, movement, anything.
But nothing changed.
It had already been three days.
“Oh, that’s Lord Rotia.”
Azelta glanced where I pointed.
“He’s been there the whole time?”
“Yes. He was ordered to guard that spot.”
Then she waved down a passing maid.
“Mare, please bring Lord Rotia here.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ah— I didn’t say I wanted to meet him!
But Mare already approached him.
For the first time in days, the unmoving coat shifted. A young man with silver hair and scarlet eyes turned his gaze toward us. He peeked around the wall — just his head showing.
His eyes briefly met mine. There was something strangely familiar about him.
“What…?”
But as soon as our gazes met, he bowed slightly and disappeared behind the wall again. Then, following Mare, he began walking toward my room.
He wore heavy armor — a breastplate and pauldrons over a uniform. His boots looked made of metal, yet he walked silently.
“Whoa…”
How was he moving without sound?
Azelta smiled.
“Isn’t he a handsome knight?”
I hadn’t been admiring his looks, but yes — he was handsome.
I nodded.
The closer he got, the stronger that odd sense of familiarity grew. Then our eyes met again, and I realized.
His eyes.
“Your eyes…”
They were faintly glowing red. The light wasn’t just reflection — it was too clear, too bright. Something only a mage would recognize instantly.
Those were Magic Eyes — Mana-Eyes.
Eyes that held built-in magic: granting extraordinary vision, but temporarily losing sight when fatigued.
Usually found only on frontline scouts.
To see them in a manor like this?
Wow, this territory really must be overflowing with monsters.
“…?”
Then I froze.
Magic Eye users were extremely sensitive to mana — they could see it.
And I had mana surrounding my heart.
I inhaled sharply, trying to restrain the mana that drifted freely there.
“Ugh.”
The familiar soreness tightened in my chest. Azelta gasped.
“Milady, are you alright?”
“Y-yeah.”
I nodded quickly.
While I struggled, Mare and Lord Rotia arrived before me.
“Milady, if you don’t feel well, should I tell him to return another time?”
Mare asked nervously.
“…”
Lord Rotia looked down at me with those glowing scarlet eyes.
Yes. He definitely saw mana.
“No.”
I couldn’t back out now.
Hiding the mana around my heart was one thing — but Magic Eyes had another ability: mages like me could see the memories they captured.
That was why Magic Eye users were valued as scouts.
“You find his eyes interesting, don’t you?”
Azelta asked. I flinched and looked away.
“Yeah… they sparkle.”
“…”
Rotia remained silent. Like a statue.
I looked from his heavy boots up to his eyes again. The memories they held started to appear faintly to me.
“His eyes are inherited. Everyone in Lord Rotia’s family has the same ones.”
What?
Inherited?
I widened my eyes.
A natural-born Magic Eye?
And one so pure?
I began seeing fragments through his eyes: thick fog, a giant shell, me inside it…
Oh no. He had watched me slam the examination table earlier.
From a distance, apparently.
I felt my cheeks flush in embarrassment.
I thought no one could see me when I used invisibility!
But Magic Eyes would see it perfectly.
“…I am Rotia Deas. I have been ordered by my master to serve as your escort.”
His voice was stiff and formal.
He blinked once, and the glow in his eyes faded briefly.
They were so clear — unlike artificially imbued Magic Eyes.
Which is why the words slipped out of my mouth:
“Wow… pretty…”
Oh no.
Did I just say that out loud?
Rotia blinked, startled.
“The young lady isn’t afraid of your eyes, Lord Rotia. That’s good.”
Azelta smiled.
Not like Magic Eyes are something scary. Only guilty people should be afraid…
Still trying to suppress the mana around my heart, I nodded.
“Really. They’re beautiful. Like jewels.”
I had never seen such clear Magic Eyes.
I looked at him again. Rotia looked flustered, lowering his head.
He really was a quiet knight.
“Please take care of me.”
I held out my hand. It barely reached his waist.
He hesitated, glanced at the black leather gloves on his hands, removed them, and then gently held my hand.
His hands were warm.
A pure Magic Eye owner indeed — to keep such clarity, one must have a good heart.
“…With body and soul, I will serve you.”
The jewel-bright eyes closed as he bowed deeply.
He seemed… excited? Not in expression, but his mana sparkled with joy.
Mare, watching, seemed puzzled. She kept her distance from Rotia.
Did people here dislike Magic Eye users?
Only later did I learn why.
Rotia Deas.
The firstborn of the Deas family — the family cursed with those eyes.
To others, he held value only as a knight.
Most people avoided his gaze; some even looked at him with contempt.
Those “beast’s eyes,” they called them.
Because his eyes could see what others could not.
Within this region — the “Gateway of the Continent,” land of fog and monsters — people feared the unknown, and therefore feared him.
But his usefulness was undeniable: he could pierce through the cursed fog.
Thus, his worth existed only as a knight.
‘It is only right to devote my life to the one who took in a beast with cursed eyes.’
Even other knights casually spoke about him like that.
To Rotia, the Ither estate consisted of:
one master to serve,
two childhood friends (Delphiro and Azelta),
and enemies.
‘Like a jewel.’
…But recently, something changed.
— Clack.
Today was Rotia’s day off.
Most knights relaxed in the knights’ barracks on such days.
But Rotia never stayed there.
Because someone needed him.
“Brother!”
A pale-faced boy ran toward him and hugged him.
His younger brother, Frey Deas, whose eyes were the same glowing scarlet.
“You okay? How’s your body?”
Rotia, usually silent, became talkative only around Frey.
“I’m fine.”
But Frey’s complexion was not.
Just running from his room to the foyer left him breathless.
“You should rest.”
Rotia lifted him easily, but Frey shook his head.
“No, since I made it to the entrance, I want to see outside.”
Rotia hesitated.
The fog was thick today — meaning his eyes would see too much and tire quickly.
‘Wow!’
A memory flashed — a certain bright young girl.
“…The fog is dense.”
Frey forced a smile.
“Then we shouldn’t go.”
Normally Rotia would agree and return inside.
But today was different.
“No.”
— Clack.
He opened the door and placed Frey’s slippers outside, then set him down.
“Huh?”
Frey blinked, surprised. Then he smiled brightly.
“I’ll only walk a little, until I get tired. Okay?”
“As much as you like. I’ll be with you.”
Rotia answered casually.
Frey stared at him.
“Brother, did something good happen today?”
Two pairs of scarlet eyes met.
Frey had matured too early — because people feared his eyes, he learned to read others’ emotions before learning to approach them.
He even understood Rotia’s feelings before Rotia did.
“Does it look like it?”
Frey nodded.
“Yeah. Did something good happen?”
Seeing Frey smile like that reminded Rotia of someone — someone in the mansion who smiled the same way.
He recalled her words.
Words he hadn’t heard since childhood from his old friends.
“…Someone told me I was pretty.”
“Huh?”
Frey laughed.
“They said you were pretty?”
“No. My eyes.”
Frey froze.
He knew how much people hated those eyes.
“Who?”
“The young lady who recently came to the mansion.”
Frey’s eyes widened.
Rotia ruffled his silver hair.
“She said they look like jewels.”
Frey blinked slowly — then a smile bloomed, bright and full.
“I want to hear that too.”
That compliment.
Frey’s scarlet eyes sparkled.
