Chapter 69
Startled, Lucillea hurriedly leaned toward the carriage window to check her reflection.
Just as Irnel had said—her eyes were blue.
But to Lucillea, they had always looked blue. It was only to others that they appeared brown.
Are they still blue now?
Lucillea turned her stiff neck slowly toward Irnel.
“Is it… still b-blue?”
Irnel hesitated, then carefully replied.
“No. Right now they’re just brown. It was only for a very short moment that they looked blue…”
After a brief pause, Irnel shot a sidelong glance at Cailin before continuing.
“Maybe… it’s a sign of mana overload.”
“Wh-what? M-mana overload?”
“Yes. You looked really furious just now.”
“…”
“Alright, Lucillea. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Follow me and breathe deeply.”
“Huh?”
“Hurry! Before your mana spirals out of control!”
“Ah…”
Lucillea let out a faint groan, then quickly followed Irnel’s lead.
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.
Once Lucillea seemed calmer, Irnel finally sighed in relief and gently patted the back of her hand.
“Better now?”
Lucillea peeked at her expression and gave a small nod.
“Y-yeah. I think so.”
“Good. That’s a relief.”
Irnel smiled faintly.
Lucillea blinked, stunned for a moment—she had never seen Irnel smile before. Slowly, she smiled back.
She was worried I might actually lose control of my mana.
Lucillea felt grateful for Irnel’s concern.
The carriage picked up speed, and soon the four of them returned quickly to the capital estate.
As soon as Lucillea was back in her own room, she locked the door and ran straight to the mirror.
She studied her own eyes intently.
Irnel must have just imagined it… right?
Yes, it had to be a mistake. Or an optical illusion.
But of all colors… why blue?
That was her true eye color—so it only made her more uneasy.
Could something be wrong with the disguise spell?
It was flawless magic, perfect enough to fool anyone. Until now, it had never once faltered or broken.
But if… just if the spell really is failing—?
No. That couldn’t happen.
Her survival depended on it.
If her true identity were exposed, all her carefully laid plans to quietly leave the ducal house and live in peace would crumble to nothing.
Why?! For what reason? Because of what?
Noah had once said the spell required “conditions” in order to be broken.
Then… did something in Marongbell fulfill that condition?
Lucillea dropped heavily into the chair before the mirror, her eyes darting in restless thought.
What was it? What could have affected the spell?
No matter how hard she racked her brain, she couldn’t pinpoint anything.
Ugh! What is it?! What’s happening?!
She tugged at her hair in frustration, struggling alone in the chaos inside her head.
[Lucy…?]
Cookie fluttered down and perched on her shoulder, sounding worried.
[Lucy, what’s wrong? You’ve gone pale… Ever since we left the dessert shop, you’ve been like this. I can’t just watch anymore!]
He tapped his head against her chin in his own way of comforting her.
Lucillea gazed at Cookie’s reflection in the mirror, her eyes softening.
“Cookie…”
[Yeah?]
“My eyes… What color are they right now?”
Cookie blinked, stared straight into her reflection, then shouted as if baffled she’d even ask.
[Brown, duh! Like cocoa with milk in it!]
“…Really?”
At his words, Lucillea finally breathed a little easier.
Still, her anxiety didn’t vanish completely.
She kept staring into her eyes in the mirror, as though trying to catch sight of another hidden self within.
A few days later.
The capital’s air grew a little warmer, and the shadows of the garden trees stretched longer across the corridor windows.
One morning, Elbadin summoned Lucillea to his office.
When she arrived, Serdian, Zed, and Riat were already there.
“Based on your description, Lady Lucillea, we’ve completed the composite portrait. Please confirm it.”
Riat handed her a sketch of the suspicious magician they’d seen at the imperial palace.
Oh!
Lucillea couldn’t help exclaiming the moment she saw it.
“It’s exactly him!”
The sharp cheekbones, the sunken eyes, the thinly pressed lips, and even the long scar above his left eyebrow.
She raised her thumb in approval, and Riat nodded.
“Then there’s no doubt. This is Ratavis, the imperial palace mage.”
Ratavis? Lucillea tilted her head, and Riat explained.
“He isn’t affiliated with the Mage Tower, so confirming his identity took time. His name is Ratavis—an outsider from another continent. He entered the empire about ten years ago. The Mage Tower tried recruiting him several times, but he refused every offer.”
Elbadin walked over, sat on the sofa, and glanced at the portrait on the table.
“Does he have family?”
“They say no. Supposedly, he grew up an orphan.”
Lucillea’s eyes widened.
“No, that’s not true.”
Everyone’s gaze snapped toward her. Serdian asked,
“What do you mean?”
With all eyes on her, Lucillea hesitated before confessing.
“He told me… that he had a younger sister around my age. They were separated when they were children, but reunited once he became an adult.”
“…”
The air in the office grew heavier.
Elbadin fixed his sharp gaze on her.
“So. You even conversed with that suspicious man.”
Lucillea shrank under the weight of their stares, her voice faltering.
“Y-yes… but only a little.”
Elbadin’s voice dropped lower, sharper.
“Is your ability to sense danger broken beyond repair?”
“I-It wasn’t like I approached him first… He suddenly appeared, what was I supposed to do?”
She protested, sounding wronged, but the stern expressions of the two men didn’t soften.
Elbadin pressed his fingers to his temple and exhaled heavily.
“I knew you had guts, but I didn’t realize it was to this extent.”
“…”
“Reckless girl.”
The quiet rebuke made Lucillea bite her lip. She couldn’t argue back, knowing his harsh words were born of concern.
Riat cleared his throat, refocusing the discussion.
“Then Ratavis must have been concealing his true identity. The claim of a ‘sister’ could be a key clue. If the records are false, he may have ties within the palace itself. We’ll investigate further.”
Looking down at the portrait, he added:
“However, Your Highness, after the Empress’s birthday banquet, all traces of him vanished from the capital.”
“He vanished?”
“Yes. It seems he erased all signs of himself and went into hiding.”
“…”
A heavy silence filled the room.
The missing mage. The coded messages. The cryptic hints he’d dropped.
Everything was shrouded in thick fog.
After a long moment of thought, Elbadin finally gave his order.
“We return to the North tomorrow. And…”
His gaze drifted toward the sky outside the window.
“No matter what it takes, find that man.”
“…Yes, Your Highness.”
Thus came the command: they would finally return to the North.
