TINT07

Chapter 7

Having handed Lillian over to the butler, Joel reached for the teapot as if parched—only to find it empty. He set it back down.

When he moved to ring for a servant, Lysthea covered the bell with her palm.

A beast that didn’t even know who held its leash needed to learn to endure its thirst.

“Send her away.”

The purpose and intent were obvious; there was no need to waste breath and energy dragging it out. That was all Lysthea said, and she waited for Joel’s answer.

“Lysthea, don’t misunderstand. Lady Rose and I are nothing to each other.”

“Nothing?”

“She saved my life—I couldn’t just ignore her. What you saw was simply me catching her when she almost fell.”

Lysthea almost pitied Joel for his stupidity.

From the parlor where she sat, the spot where Lady Rose had almost fallen was clearly in view. Was it really coincidence? From timing her fall into Joel’s arms to barging into the drawing room as if on cue, Lillian Rose’s little performance was calculated.

That Joel hadn’t even noticed such an obvious ploy was beyond belief.

Correction:
The male lead in this world wasn’t “a little” slow—he was very slow.

“Joel Spencer, did that sound like a request to you?”

“Haah, Lysthea… please.”

His sighs were heavy, his voice tinged with irritation. In it, Lysthea heard blame and fatigue directed at her.

Blame? How absurd. Who had allowed things to get to this point?

“Can’t you try to understand this once? I have my reasons.”

“I don’t care to know them. Whatever they are, I have only one demand—by the end of this week, get Lillian Rose out of this house.”

Her tone unyielding, Joel looked at her as though exhausted.

Hadn’t he pleaded enough that she could at least pretend to listen? She really forced a man into saying things he didn’t want to say.

“Aren’t you forgetting something? What happens in the Spencer household isn’t yours to meddle in. You’re my fiancée, not my wife.”

“Do you know why Lillian Rose is still here? Because I’m your fiancée.”

“God, you’re impossible… Every time you’re like this, I can’t breathe. I feel like some mutt chained to a leash.”

He never gave in—not once. Lysthea could never tolerate anyone breaking the standards and rules she had set for herself.

It was no wonder such a face had so few people around it.

“Joel Spencer, am I suffocating? Tiresome?”

“Anyone would feel that way. Who could stand someone like you?”

At those words, the woman before him smiled as if she’d been waiting for them all along—so dazzling a smile he almost forgot they were in the middle of a fight.

“Then let’s break the engagement. I have no need for a mutt who can’t even recognize its master.”

For a moment, Joel was too caught by her face to process her words.

First, he bristled at being called a mutt—then the word break finally registered.

Break the engagement? Lysthea Aster, ending it with him? Absurd.

“No matter how angry you are, there are things you can say and things you can’t.”

Of course, the thought had crossed his mind before—but never had he said it aloud to her.

“You’re too worked up today. Let’s talk later.”

“Sit down.”

Joel tried to leave, but she didn’t budge.

“Lysthea, just go home.”

“Sit.”

Her will was like stone—unyielding. Every time she did this, Joel thought he might choke on the frustration.

“You—ugh, forget it.”

Though he scoffed and looked at her as if fed up, his body obeyed and sank back into the chair.

The chair groaned in protest, tilting dangerously to one side. Joel flailed to avoid tumbling out.

“Joel Spencer. I never said you shouldn’t repay the person who saved your life. Use money, the Spencer influence, your connections—whatever it takes, pay your debt in full.

But this? Bringing Lillian Rose into this house and making me look like this?”

Her voice cut sharp, each word measured. Joel’s gut was already starting to knot.

“You never cared about what people thought before,” he tried weakly.

What people thought had never mattered to her—only her own standards.

“True. I don’t care what they say. But if you’d spared even a thought for me, you wouldn’t have done this.”

“I don’t see what I did so wrong—”

“Do you really not understand what it means to bring a magic-channeler into your home?”

Her words struck the heart of the matter, and Joel’s easy excuses died on his tongue.

Here, magic drew on the power of the stars—but its fuel was a human’s own mana. The more mana, the greater the magic. But one’s mana was fixed from birth, like the blessing of one’s guardian star.

For that reason, magicians coveted anything that could supplement their mana. Yet the greedy stars did not accept just anything—only pure gemstones, a magician’s body parts or memories, or their very life.

The only true salvation for a magician on the brink of being drained by their guardian star was a magic-channeler—someone who could lend their mana to another.

Lillian Rose had saved Joel in the Black Forest because she was a channeler.

A magician and a channeler’s romance was a staple of cheap novels, but the Empire’s most famous tale was between Lysthea’s own father and the fallen baron’s daughter, Emma Dawson—the first magic-channeler in sixty years.

A promising young nobleman, scarred by an unwanted marriage. A beautiful channeler, the daughter of his late master. It was called the romance of the century—in which the daughter of the man’s first wife was nothing but an obstacle.

Now, with Lillian Rose—a fallen baron’s daughter and rare channeler—appearing, the parallels were impossible to ignore.

To those who remembered Aster and Emma’s story, Joel and Lillian looked like a love that had leapt across time… with Lysthea still the obstacle.

The very repetition of such a script sickened her.

“You never told me you cared about things like that. You’ve never mentioned your parents to me…”

If only she could live as someone unconnected to them. But there was no escaping a misfortune the whole world knew.

She had simply worn her mask and endured.

“I’ll say it again. Get Lillian Rose out of this house—or we end the engagement. That’s all I have to say.”

She rose from her seat. Joel hurried up to stop her.

“Lysthea, let’s talk. If you leave like this—”

“Why? Afraid of breaking the engagement? Afraid your grandfather will be angry?”

Perhaps it was because they hadn’t been together long, but Joel clearly wanted the engagement more than he wanted her.

“I told you—I have no use for a mutt who can’t tell who holds the leash.”

The Asters owned the Cullinan mines; Lysthea was the wealthiest unmarried woman in the Empire. It was Joel’s family who had sought the match.

The Spencers, a family of magic craftsmen, had been struggling after a series of failed projects. The engagement had been a way to secure financial stability.

“Fine… I didn’t think it through enough. I get that you’re upset. Just… let it go, okay?”

Today alone, Joel had been called a mutt twice. But instead of arguing, he tried to placate the fiancée who was bristling more than usual—like someone who knew their days were numbered.

He hadn’t expected her to take the Lillian matter this badly. Then again, Lysthea had always been possessive of him.

“It’s not like you’re really going to break the engagement. I know you didn’t mean it.”

Hearing the soft, coaxing tone, Lysthea couldn’t help but laugh.