Chapter 70…………………
“Where is His Grace, Duke Pessick?”
“I shoved him off on my sister and His Majesty. I told him it’d be troublesome if the guest of honor of today’s banquet kept clinging to me. But more importantly—listen. I landed an incredible opportunity!”
“What kind of opportunity?”
“A wish-granting bet. I won, so he has to grant me whatever I ask for.”
An uncharacteristically wicked laugh slipped from Cordelia’s lips. Noah flinched, glancing warily at her.
“What exactly are you plotting…?”
Cordelia stopped, then beckoned him closer. As Noah leaned in, she whispered in his ear. His eyes widened in surprise.
“Wait—are you serious?”
“Of course I’m serious.”
Unlike Cordelia’s triumphant tone, worry clouded Noah’s eyes.
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Why? Things weren’t moving forward at all, and that was frustrating. Don’t worry, I’ve thought through most of the safety measures.”
Cordelia thumped her chest with confidence. Watching her in silence, Noah let go of the hand he had been holding.
When that warmth disappeared, his whole body felt strangely chilled. Struggling to adapt to the odd sensation, he spoke quietly.
“Yes, I trust you.”
A timely breeze scattered his jet-black bangs, and his exposed blue eyes fixed fully on Cordelia. Clouds drifting past the sun cast shade over them.
His gentle smile was no different from usual, but Cordelia hastily grabbed his hand again, as though panicked.
The fine-looking hand wrapped in silk gloves was, contrary to appearances, rough and calloused. It wasn’t as soft as her own, but Cordelia liked that—signs of effort lingered there. She also liked how Noah, usually reserved, grew passionate whenever he spoke about art.
That could only be proof of the tireless effort that gave him such pride.
I know you’re strong. And yet, when you wear that lonely expression sometimes, it unsettles me. Like you’ll just disappear somewhere.
“Lady Cordelia?”
Startled from her thoughts by Noah’s puzzled voice, Cordelia hesitated—something unlike her. Then, deliberately brightening her voice, she said:
“You know we’re still partners in fate, right?”
“Yes.”
“So, if anything happens, you must tell me. Don’t shoulder it all alone. And if you’re coming to the palace, let me know ahead of time!”
She didn’t expect him to answer properly, but to her surprise Noah replied without hesitation.
“I will.”
Though it was a firm affirmation, Cordelia frowned deeply. Her hand reached into his hair and touched his forehead.
“What’s wrong?”
“I was checking if you’re sick. Why are you so honest all of a sudden? It’s scary.”
Though she joked, her gaze was searching him intently, as though truly worried. Noah only gave a soft laugh.
“I’m fine.”
I can endure it.
Hiding that thought, he gently caught her hand and pressed her palm to his lips. Cordelia blinked in surprise at the sudden gesture.
Because of his size, it felt almost like a beast trying to act cute—though he wasn’t even drunk.
From where his lips touched her skin, a ticklish warmth spread to her chest. Thump, thump. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears. When their eyes met—Noah’s lowered gaze locking with hers—
Ah, this is dangerous.
Cordelia instinctively ducked her head, her face heating. Before she could even process the rising flush, Noah carefully let go of her hand. She tilted her chin up with feigned nonchalance, though her cheeks remained pink. Thankfully, the shade hid most of it.
“Shouldn’t you go back to the banquet hall?”
“Ah, yes. I’ll have to drop by.”
She still needed to finish her talk with Duke Pessick, and report to Jerania as well.
“Actually, Her Majesty asked me for something.”
“My sister? What was it?”
Noah explained the contents of the letter that had been enclosed with his invitation. Cordelia tilted her head in puzzlement.
“No such person existed. I checked every one of the people around that man.”
She prided herself on instantly grasping the basic traits of anyone she met. After all, awareness, memory, and judgment were essential for social dealings.
“Then I’ll wait outside. Go ahead.”
Hearing his calm tone, Cordelia doubted her ears. She knew he didn’t want to return to the banquet—that wasn’t surprising. But waiting for her? Why was he being so compliant today?
“…Fine, alright.”
If he ran away this time, she really would get angry. Muttering that silent resolve, she turned on her heel.
Late autumn rain lashed at the windows.
By the lamplight on his desk, Noah surveyed the dozens of scattered sheets before him, all filled with faint grey sketches.
He always gave his best to commissions, but rarely had one troubled him as much as this. Unlike usual, where he submitted a single piece, this time he was creating a series meant to connect together.
“Still no word from my teacher.”
Well, it wasn’t an easy request. He was said to be wandering near the western border of Herita; surely some meaningful news might come.
Not that Noah truly expected it. His teacher was a craftsman, not a mage. But doing nothing was unbearable. The sense of debt shackled to his feet was hard to shake.
He had vowed again and again to live quietly, unnoticed. He didn’t want to shatter the peace he had finally found. Dwelling on the past brought nothing but despair.
He had to be alright—no matter what. He still remembered vividly the hollow look on his mother’s face when he was confined to this mansion eight years ago. He couldn’t let himself collapse too. Sixteen-year-old Ian had been desperate in his own way.
Unlike his days as a prince, solitude gave him plenty of time for reflection. Time was all he had, after all.
Through that, he learned to let go of many things. Some to discard, some to bear, some belonging nowhere. He sorted his heart into countless categories.
There weren’t many things left to wish for. If he’d clung to more desires, life in confinement would have been far more agonizing.
Yet his first love’s memory was something he couldn’t discard, even after all that time. He thought it harmless to hold onto one shining recollection. He never imagined it would lead here.
More troubling still was that… the situation wasn’t as unbearable as he thought. People say the heart won’t obey—but how could it be so unruly?
A selfish urge whispered: I just want to be swept along. Even knowing he must not desire more.
Pulling over one sheet, Noah picked up a quill and began sketching again. Lines formed into a girl with a straw hat, smiling brightly at the forest’s edge.
He stared blankly at the uncolored drawing, then chuckled softly and flipped it face-down.
“What am I even doing?”
“Then how do I look in your eyes? Tell me.”
You once asked me that. I couldn’t answer truthfully then.
An everlasting admiration. An ideal.
From long ago, my standard of beauty was always you. A girl whose smile outshone the sun even in shadow.
If it were only appearance, I wouldn’t have remembered so long. But your lively eyes, your spirited voice, your confident smile claiming you’d live freely—there was nothing I couldn’t admire.
Noah’s gaze drifted to the plaster cast standing in the shadowed corner. It had been there for over a year, but he hadn’t managed to sculpt even the face. He finally admitted why he avoided it.
Art, they say, expresses the artist’s desires.
And he feared her face would inevitably emerge in his work. Liking someone alone was one thing; revealing it was another.
Such feelings could hurt her. So if traces slipped into his work, they must remain hidden—sealed away so that she would never be harmed because of him.
Noah pressed a hand to his chest, calming his racing heart.
Thinking of Cordelia no longer brought only joy. It also hurt, throbbed, weighed heavy. Like a jewel with dust specks, the feeling was no longer pure.
And yet—why was it harder to bear than before? Hadn’t he managed all this time?
At this point, he felt like surrendering to Cordelia’s persistence. His eyes flicked to the sigil etched on the back of his right hand.
This ordeal had made one thing clear: he hadn’t merely endured—he’d been swept up long ago. Excuses about running away forever no longer held.
Perhaps Cordelia was right. Perhaps there was another path. Maybe he was only too afraid.
Deep down, the buried seed of hope kept pushing upward.
If I admit this feeling—will something finally loosen?
Through his blurred, misty vision, Cordelia’s face shimmered.
In the vision, he quietly watched her colorless profile. Slowly, she turned toward him, her delicate eyes crinkling like a crescent moon. When her once-clear gaze filled with brilliant blue—
Noah opened his eyes.
He blinked at the sunlight flooding through the window, lighting the room.
Staring blankly at the white ceiling, he slowly stretched out his hand. A pale, slender hand reached upward. Golden strands of hair traced lines across his sight, and he let out a bitter laugh.
“…What am I doing?”
How did it end up like this again?
