TMNGD 11🔐

Chapter 11 …

The only daughter of the greatest witch. Eselmond Bellua lifted the corner of her mouth as if she already knew everything.

“How did I know? Well, it’s not like this is the first time Lady Adriana has come here.”

“Just give me the conclusion.”

“I’m the one who called you here.”

“…Tell me the middle part too.”

Dark brown skin, golden eyes, movements that seemed a little… off.

Eselmond introduced herself slyly, squinting her eyes like a fat cat brought along by a villain.

A witch surpassing her mother, the empire’s greatest magician.

“That’s me.”

“But what’s the difference between a witch and a magician?”

“You didn’t know that yet? It’s been almost a year since you arrived here.”

With a single gesture from Eselmond, the library transformed into a garden, and a red checkered cloth was spread over an old-fashioned table.

Tap, tap! With just a snap of her thumb and forefinger, bitter black tea and macarons appeared. For someone who hadn’t slept for 200 hours, I thought her hospitality wasn’t bad. It would’ve been even better if she had the most expensive alcohol in the empire on hand.

“A witch is by blood, and magic is by study.”

“Excuse me?”

“A witch grows herbs that ordinary people can’t cultivate and concocts medicines unknown to them. A magician manipulates mana to artificially bend the flow of nature. They can transfer it, store it, and more.”

“…I don’t understand a word of that.”

So witches are like supporters and magicians are tanks? Eselmond crossed her long legs and observed my reaction. It was less about reading the room and more pure observation. Why are magicians in novels always portrayed as crazy? Is it because they lock themselves in a tower, neither sleeping nor eating, just researching?

…Well, it would drive anyone mad.

“You don’t need to understand! Lady Adriana’s body has zero mana! Her affinity is minimal; she’s completely ordinary.”

“So?”

“Anyway, want to hear my story?”

“No, that’s fine—”

“I was exceptional from a young age. A genius, really.”

Could she just let people talk? I wanted to flip the table. But being an ethical citizen educated in 21st-century compulsory schooling, I decided to listen politely as a mature, considerate member of society.

“I was different from birth. My mother was a witch, so I naturally became a witch too, which was already special, but I also had the talent to be a magician. I attended school with imperial support. Graduated in two years, mind you. That was twenty years ago.”

“Yes, belated congratulations.”

“Thanks. Anyway, there were people envious of my talents as both a witch and a magician. They’re probably in the middle of the ocean now.”

“…Does that mean their heads, stomachs, and legs were separated?”

“I’m not that scary. I just sent them off on a 50-year trip to clear their minds.”

That sounds more like exile than a vacation.

“After sorting that out, there wasn’t anything interesting left. I had already enjoyed all the wealth and fame I could as a citizen of the empire and did whatever I wanted as the master of the Mage Tower—so I was bored.”

“You’re lucky, huh.”

“I think so too.”

Eselmond blinked innocently, replying with a mischievous smile. She was definitely smiling, but there was something unsettling about it. You know that instinctive unease when you see a clown mask? That was it.

“Then Lady Adriana came to visit. You had questions about another soul, right?”

“And?”

“I’m not really interested in reincarnation or parallel universes, but you were so earnest. So I listened, thinking of it as research. Your wish.”

“Wish? A wish?”

Was my will trapped somewhere in Minsoo’s stomach?

“Yes, a wish. You wanted ‘Adriana de Winter’ not to die even if your body was gone. Isn’t that selfish and adorable?”

“Excuse me, are you crazy?”

“I hear that a lot.”

Eselmond’s hand reached for the teacup, and her gem bracelet jingled. Yellow, angular stones shifted loosely.

“That’s it. Lady Adriana asked, and I granted it. That’s why you came.”

“Why me?”

“I don’t know. There wasn’t enough time to analyze. You only realized the experiment worked when you arrived.”

“How do I go back?”

“That… is in your heart, I suppose.”

Since realizing I knew her identity, Eselmond called me only “you.” Polite in odd moments, unkind at crucial ones.

“Love.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have to love.”

What nonsense. She could speak absurdities seriously. Love—such a subjective, vague condition—was supposed to achieve what? I wanted to grab that witch, who looked like she was teasing me with a puzzling expression.

But Eselmond Bellua was around two meters tall, and even purely by grip strength, Adriana de Winter was fragile.

“Ugh, really.”

“Nothing else you’re curious about?”

“Would asking more actually change anything?”

“Of course not.”

Eselmond got up, leaping across the garden humming. Anyone who willingly stayed up all night like this clearly had a few screws loose.

The garden was full of flowers, trees, and unidentifiable herbs. Leaves were stiff and broad like cabbage or lettuce. Up close, they glowed like poisonous mushrooms.

“Can I eat these?”

“They’re all for medicines. Wrong combinations could make poison, but chewing them raw won’t kill you. Why?”

“Just wondered if I could make kimchi with them…”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing, never mind.”

Eselmond kindly recorded the books I borrowed and even saw me off. I felt foolish, but not doing so would’ve only hurt me.

Generously, that screw-loose genius seemed to favor me, and if I was lucky, I could get some useful advice too.

…Though expecting anything from that lunatic was ambitious.

××

“Milady, you have a letter.”

“For me?”

While inhabiting Adriana’s body, I had already ruined most human relationships—so a letter? I wanted to tear the wax-sealed envelope elegantly like a lady, but the envelope was tougher than expected. Such a luxurious waste of resources.

Using the paper knife April gave me, I managed to open it gracefully.

Dear Woong-aeng… Long time no see in the capital, Woong-aeng…

“What does it say?”

“Nothing much.”

“But it’s a letter from the Magnolia family. They’re not the type to call without reason…”

“Oh, how’d you know?”

“The family seal is on it. Isn’t it time you memorized it?”

“I’m from the rote-learning generation! I don’t know things unless a teacher directly implants them in my head!”

But saying that would be too annoying, so I stayed quiet. After all, someone who brought me here couldn’t really be opposed, even if I wasn’t inclined to be polite.

April, a 100% loyal lifelong servant, wasn’t so bad from a 21st-century capitalist perspective.

“It’s really nothing. They just wanted to show their face in the capital? If you want to see them, they should come themselves.”

“The Duke?”

“‘With love, Elliott Magnolia.’”

The sender was Adriana’s only brother. Do these people always write such cheesy lines? ‘With love’ to a sister—every little phrase was cloying.

“What will you do?”

“Do what?”

“When will you go?”

“I’m not going.”

“Excuse me?”

“Huh?”

We looked at each other blankly and sighed. No motivation, just a vacant gesture.

“But if you don’t go, they’ll come to you…”

“So persistent?”

“They can’t tolerate being ignored. Their will is also the Duke’s will.”

April didn’t hesitate to criticize Adriana’s full brother. After Adriana’s mother died giving birth to her, the Duke grieved only for his wife, neglecting his daughter, and her brother couldn’t accept her, blaming her for their mother’s death.

A cliché setup. They probably still wanted Adriana to be happy.

What petty self-satisfaction.

I don’t know the original work or the Magnolia family, but the situation and family dynamics made it obvious.

Rash judgment? Fine—enough thinking. Not my family anyway.

“I guess we should go.”

“Really going?”

“If I don’t, they’ll find me anyway. I’ll just go fix the will or something.”

“Huh?”

“Just kidding… I’ll raid their wine cellar while I’m there.”

“You’re joking?”

“Not really.”

If a man had spent years drinking away his grief after losing his wife, he couldn’t resent leaving a few well-stored crates of wine to his daughter.

I felt inexplicably hostile toward a random man I’d never met.

I chose sturdy shoes and dark pants instead of sending a polite reply with a pen. If he said nonsense, I’d kick him in the shins with my heels.

“Are you really okay with this?”

“I’m fine.”

“Maybe a little more… grooming—”

“There’s no one to impress. If he loves me, he should accept this.”

Kalian seemed to give up commenting on my casual attire. At first, when I wandered in a loose shirt and pants, even the servants were taken aback, and Kalian mockingly asked if I was an apprentice knight. Now, even in a chemise, wandering the garden, I felt he appreciated that I didn’t leave the estate.

Yes, one should rejoice in small discoveries of daily life. That’s the secret to happiness, the key to longevity.

The capital’s estates were close to the palace. The long-standing Magnolia Duke’s estate and the Winter Archduke’s estate, surpassing the Duke’s wealth and aristocratic blood, were so close that explaining the distance seemed unnecessary.

I could walk there like a casual stroll if I knew the way—but I didn’t. I knew it was nearby but not which direction to go. And I didn’t want to parade my silver hair to strangers asking for directions. I lacked the energy, will, and affection for that.

“We’ve arrived, Milady.”

The Duke’s estate was truly magnificent. Whether it was the previous generation’s taste or the Duke’s, it was clear no expense was spared in gilding trivial areas. Of course, not real gold.

“Oh my, young lady! Your Highness! Why didn’t you inform us beforehand?”

“Long time no see. Ah—no, Archduchess Highness.”

Experienced servants lined up to greet us. Some seemed surprised by my sudden visit and simple attire, but only their pupils twitched, heads shook slightly, lips trembled.

Both the Duke and Elliott were home despite the sudden visit. I thought to glance at the parlor, and the two arrived as soon as I got up from the sofa.

Ugh, so insensitive.

“…What’s with that frivolous outfit, Adriana?”

Before exchanging even a dry greeting, the Duke inspected my messy hair and worn boots, frowning. Adriana’s face didn’t resemble his at all. Maybe the son was all his?

Would it hurt to ask if I’d eaten?

“What do you mean?”

“You need to realize you’re an Archduchess—”

“Then treat me like one. Why are you speaking informally?”

“What?”

“Why are you talking like that? Are you friends with me?”

Back in my time, if someone outranked you, you used honorifics. Of course, comparing an Archduchess and a Duke was different. I didn’t want to adapt to class hierarchies, but still!

“Adriana, you—”

“What? Got a problem?”

Ah. I wanted to flip the table completely, but the Confucian girl inside me shuddered at such disrespect. Rebellion against elders—difficult even if you don’t respect them.

Oh, I’m just too soft-hearted.