Chapter 92
“Okay.”
Promeon nodded as if it were only natural. He could do anything Hermaane wanted—on the premise that everything happened within the bounds of what he could control.
He did not completely repeat the same mistakes as in the past. This time as well, he had almost forcibly persuaded Hermaane to leave the place where she originally lived, but his attitude was far more cautious than in his previous life.
First of all, unlike before, he did not confine her in a mountain where no one at all passed by.
He devoted himself to ensuring that not even a trace of the sinister thirst—to bind her in chains in a place where only he could see, hear, and touch her—would leak out.
If she wished, he was willing to help her build a new life in a village where people lived, even in a bustling city.
He only hoped that the dreadful sight of her stabbing her own neck with metal right before his eyes would never happen again. As long as she could live long and healthy, he could endure even seeing her smile at someone else.
And so the two of them returned to the Kingdom of Hermeon. For her, who had been born and raised as Noxia Dekan in this life, that country was the most familiar place.
Noxia wanted to settle by the sea. Promeon gladly granted that wish as well.
Hermeon had seas to the north and south. In the North Sea, rich in marine resources, the fishing industry was well developed, while near the South Sea, tourism and resort businesses flourished thanks to the mild climate and beautiful scenery.
The two settled in a beautiful coastal village in the southern part of the kingdom. It was a rural area far from the capital, far from Noxia Dekan’s hometown, and far from the royal seaside villa.
“How is it here?”
“I like it.”
“Good. Then let’s live here for now. If you grow tired of this place while living here, we can move somewhere else anytime.”
“Okay, let’s do that.”
“Is there anything you want to do here? Of course, you don’t have to work if you don’t want to. I can provide enough money for you to rest for the rest of your life. I’ll do whatever you want.”
“…I don’t know. Maybe I’ll run a teahouse somewhere with a nice view?”
“A teahouse sounds good.”
Normally, running a business required countless efforts and preparations, but for a cursed immortal, everything was far too easy.
A teahouse building in a fantastic location overlooking the sea rolled into his grasp with absurd ease. It was a dreadfully convenient life.
Promeon provided everything materially for Hermaane. So that even if she could not smile, she would at least not cry—so that she would not fall into despair again and stab her own neck as she had before.
“It’s all yours, Hermaane.”
After securing not only the job she wanted but also a house suitably close to her workplace, he confessed devotedly. Hoping this would be enough to fully win her heart.
“…I told you to call me Noxia.”
The girl who bore Hermaane’s soul replied dryly. Then, as if sighing reluctantly, she added,
“Thank you for everything. The building, the house, all of it.”
Though she had the crooked thought that she did not need to thank him—since she would never have been reborn in the first place if not for Promeon’s scheming—she could not treat him too harshly because lingering attachments from her past life remained.
They were the pitiful remnants of a sorrowful love. She had once loved him enough to devote her entire life to him. So even after committing suicide once because of Promeon and being forcibly reincarnated twice, she could not completely hate him.
At hearing her thanks, Promeon’s expression turned subtle. Lowering his head like a dejected dog, he whispered softly,
“I don’t deserve to hear you thank me.”
So you do know. Instead of coldly sneering, Noxia merely shrugged indifferently.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s just how I feel.”
Whether she said thank you or not—that much, at least, she could decide for herself.
Thus, their new life began. Noxia Dekan became the owner of a teahouse from a foreign land.
She opened a small shop on a hill overlooking the sea and simply passed the time without worrying about sales.
When time passed and the warm vacation season arrived, tourists and vacationers would swarm the area, but for now it was chilly winter, and most of the customers who came were local residents.
Noxia was a kind proprietor. The quality of the tea and cakes she sold was excellent.
Moreover, she had placed a large bookshelf in the teahouse and filled it to the brim so that customers could read while drinking tea.
From popular romance novels of the day to old philosophical texts and useful cookbooks, the variety was diverse.
People began coming to the teahouse to sip fragrant drinks while peacefully gazing at the sea beyond the window or quietly immersing themselves in reading.
At first, some people did not look kindly upon her as an outsider.
They openly picked fights with her or spread negative rumors about her, and a few showed hostile attitudes after making passes at her and being rejected.
However, as those people one by one left the region for some reason or suddenly changed their attitudes overnight and began treating her kindly, such problems soon died down.
Only then did Noxia begin to understand a little why the ancient gods had behaved so arrogantly.
When one could resolve all worldly matters so conveniently with such transcendent abilities, maintaining humility would likely be far more difficult.
‘That doesn’t mean I feel inclined to look upon them kindly.’
But that was as far as it went. Noxia’s overall attitude remained cold.
At the thought of that detestable group who had enjoyed reigning over humans—except for Pellene—the deep-rooted aversion engraved in Hermaane’s soul stirred.
‘…Even Pellene did not fully understand us.’
That did not mean she wanted to blame her. She herself had not fully understood Pellene either.
Pellene. Karnen Holby. The precious childhood friend Noxia Dekan had made in this life.
Thinking of Karnen brought to mind Daisy Roben and Rachel Dalian, whom she had introduced, and recalling the royal palace spring ball where she had first met them made her think of someone else she had encountered there.
Elenen Hermeon, the first love of an eighteen-year-old girl. Now completely erased from the other person’s memory.
In the end, the girl had never asked why that boy had been hiding alone and crying that day.
‘Let’s not think about it.’
She had been the one who left, wishing for him to find happiness with another ordinary human. Noxia decided not to wallow in pathetic lingering attachment.
As early evening arrived, Noxia closed the teahouse. If she kept it open later, profits would increase accordingly, but she had no need to cling to money, so she sent the customers away without regret at dinner time.
She walked slowly toward the house. The detached home Promeon had prepared for the two of them lay further inland.
Promeon always came out to meet her. While she minded the shop, she did not know what he did alone all day, nor had she ever asked.
Noxia had not suggested that he help run the shop together. The shop had so few customers that much help was unnecessary, and somehow it felt uncomfortable to be stuck with him even there.
The reason she had started working at the teahouse, despite having no need to earn money, was because she wanted to at least pretend to live like an ordinary person.
But with Promeon beside her, even that pretense was difficult. It was too hard to brainwash herself into believing that she was merely an ordinary human belonging to the present.
Being together with Promeon every night was enough. At least during the day, she wanted to be alone, or with other ordinary customers who had no memories of past lives.
Putting some distance between herself and Promeon for a few hours each day like this was not bad. Rather, it made him feel a little less uncomfortable.
‘When we were together day and night, it felt like… I couldn’t breathe.’
As if only the two of them were left in this world. As if she were cut off from all the other people living in this era.
Disliking that suffocating isolation of being stranded alone on a deserted island with a lover from a past life, she found some comfort in pretending to be a teahouse owner during the day and facing him only after work.
“Hermaane.”
Promeon always waited for Noxia at the same spot. Stubbornly calling her by her past name.
“You worked hard today.”
The tall man with hair as black as the night sky whispered gently. Noxia met him impassively.
“Nothing happened today?”
“No, nothing in particular.”
“That’s a relief. I suppose there were no troublesome customers.”
“There haven’t been any lately. You took care of them all.”
“That’s right, I did.”
When Noxia pointed it out, Promeon smiled faintly in the darkness. It was a captivating smile befitting his statue-like beautiful face, but rather than feeling her heart flutter, Noxia only felt sorrow.
“Let’s go.”
She said, averting her gaze. When she stepped forward first, he quietly followed.
The conversation ended there. The two remained silent until they reached the house.
At last, a two-story home with a small front yard came into view. They entered the yard through the gate and crossed it to reach the front door.
There was no separate key. The front door locked with a single gesture from Promeon, and when he opened the handle and turned it smoothly again, it clicked and opened on its own.
Noxia entered first. Promeon followed behind her and closed the door. With a light gesture from him, it clicked shut and locked again without any device.
“Wash up and come down. I’ll prepare dinner.”
“Okay.”
At Promeon’s gentle words, Noxia gave a short nod and went upstairs. The moment she turned away, the smile vanished from Promeon’s face.
Promeon went to the kitchen. Lighting the hearth was even easier than locking the door. Without even needing to gesture, a single blink of his eyes made lively orange flames rise up.
Skillfully placing a pot over the flames, he added water, milk, and grains and began cooking soup.
There was no danger of the soup boiling over even if he was distracted. Without needing to concentrate, Promeon reflexively adjusted the intensity of the fire with his will while slicing thick bread and preparing a salad with vegetables.
When the soup, bread, and salad were finally ready, he placed them on a tray and carried them to the living room. The fireplace in the living room also burst into flame with a single glance from him.
