Episode 03
Enya turned her head, unsure whether she was more surprised by the fact that he had sat beside her—or by his voice.
He sat there with a faint, almost invisible smile, his exhaustion plainly written across his face. Up close, his appearance was even more astonishing. It felt unreal, as though he did not quite belong to reality.
Of course, his build beneath that refined exterior was solid—almost dangerously so. Yet he did not feel threatening. Despite his polished features, there lingered something wild about him.
A contradiction—
Soft, yet rough. Refined, yet like a beast raised in the wilderness.
“May I… have that drink?”
As he pointed at the glass, Enya snapped back to her senses and lightly swirled it. The ice clinked softly.
“This?”
“Yes, that one.”
“…I was drinking from it.”
“I don’t mind. If you don’t.”
He seemed genuinely desperate for it. After a brief hesitation, Enya handed the glass over.
Their fingers brushed.
It was only a fleeting touch, yet she could feel the difference—his skin was harder, rougher than hers.
The veins on the back of his hand stood out clearly.
A swordsman’s hand.
Enya silently concluded that he must be a newly arrived knight at the Imperial Palace. Judging by his looks alone, he had probably been endlessly hounded by nobles who adored pretty, inexperienced youths.
“It’s… quite bitter.”
He swallowed the drink and brushed his chin. Perhaps he had been thirstier than he realized—he had drained it in one go, leaving a trace of liquid clinging to the tip of his chin.
Enya’s eyes widened as she stared at the empty glass.
“Wait… did you drink all of it?”
“……Ah. My apologies. I didn’t realize…”
“It’s fine. It was cheap anyway. Not exactly His Majesty’s taste.”
At the mention of the emperor, something flickered in his eyes—just for a moment, they darkened.
Enya chose not to comment further. She waved a hand dismissively.
She had no desire to pry just to satisfy her curiosity.
“Give me the glass. I’ll at least eat the ice.”
She rolled her tongue in her mouth, mimicking the act, and he flushed slightly before handing it back. His awkwardness reminded her of herself from a few years ago.
The tension in her shoulders eased.
If I laugh, would he take offense?
Suppressing a smile, she tilted her chin toward the fountain.
“If you’re still thirsty… you could always drink from that ‘guardian spirit’ over there.”
“A guardian spirit…? Ah.”
The “guardian spirit” she referred to was the statue at the fountain before them.
Water flowed from between its legs.
Seeing it, he let out a small laugh.
Enya watched the way the corners of his lips curved before gesturing again.
“The glass.”
His eyes, still holding traces of laughter, softened as they met hers. Yet because of their naturally sharp shape, they never appeared entirely gentle.
He handed the glass back without breaking eye contact.
Enya took it and turned her gaze to the empty air, saying nothing.
She had come here precisely because she didn’t want to speak.
And it seemed he felt the same.
He simply sat there, letting the breeze pass over him, his gaze drifting between the dark sky and the carefully tended garden.
As if by unspoken agreement, neither of them asked for names, origins, or anything of the sort.
They simply shared the silence.
And just as Enya began to think—
If we part like this, it wouldn’t be such a bad encounter…
His voice broke the quiet once more.
“I… ran away, actually. From people.”
Enya glanced at him without turning her head fully.
He smiled awkwardly.
“I’m not used to gatherings like this…”
Perhaps because he had spoken so openly—so easily revealing something that might embarrass him—
Enya found herself smiling back without thinking.
And then she realized—
She was smiling.
Startled, she composed herself, wondering what to say.
He was clearly a novice, attending his first banquet.
Once, she had been like that too.
Her social skills were terrible—both by nature and from years of seclusion—but even so, she was still better off than him.
Should I help him?
Would that be alright?
Their eyes met.
Dark eyes—like a dense forest steeped in night.
In the end, she gave in to a rare impulse of kindness.
“Do you know that the center of a typhoon is calm?”
Even as she spoke, she knew—
This wasn’t something she would normally say.
But what were the odds that a reclusive Tower Master and a mere knight would ever meet again?
A little kindness wouldn’t hurt.
“But if you step even slightly outside that center, chaos waits to swallow you whole. That’s how it feels to be among people sometimes. I’m perfectly still here—but take one step out, and it feels like I’ll be cut apart.”
“……”
“So for now—just enjoy the center. It’s alright.”
He seemed… different.
More at ease than he had been just moments ago.
It was a subtle change—but unmistakable.
“…So I’m allowed to enjoy it.”
“……”
“…I could have enjoyed it.”
The last words were almost a whisper.
As though caught in an unfamiliar feeling, he flushed slightly and brushed his jaw.
A silver ring glinted on his left ring finger.
Not quite a wedding band.
Yet too worn to be merely decorative.
He has a lover.
It made sense.
Someone like him not having one would be stranger.
His green eyes, which had been lingering in the air, slowly turned back toward her.
Carefully, he asked:
“Have you… grown accustomed to the storm?”
“Obviously not.”
Enya swallowed the nearly melted ice and grinned.
“I ran away too, didn’t I?”
“……”
“Well… it’s still manageable. When I think about what I’ve protected.”
“……”
“So you should try to endure it as well. Just enough.”
She ran her tongue lightly over the bitterness clinging to her lips and raised her glass in a silent toast to the empty air.
“To the things we’ve killed—and the things we’ve protected.”
“Helios Depert.”
The sudden introduction made her fall silent.
What? I thought we agreed not to exchange names.
Knowing a name meant knowing a status.
And knowing a status created distance.
The quiet night garden they had fled to would turn back into the banquet hall.
With a faint, bitter smile, Enya spoke:
“I see. I ran all this way… only to summon the storm itself.”
His eyes widened in alarm as he watched her stiffen.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s fine. There’s no need to apologize.”
She had no idea why he suddenly introduced himself—
But she would not return the gesture.
Of all people… Helios Depert.
He didn’t seem to be boasting or seeking recognition.
Still, getting entangled with someone like him would bring nothing good.
“I should be going now. Sir Depert, I admire your achievements. Please enjoy the banquet.”
“Wait—”
Her body tilted slightly.
As she stood, he had instinctively grabbed her sleeve.
Even he seemed shocked by his own action, staring at the fabric in his hand.
The awkwardness drew a small laugh from her.
“You’re making this uncomfortable.”
“Ah—my apologies. I acted in haste.”
Startled, he quickly let go.
Yet the hesitation lingering at his fingertips was unmistakable.
Is this… cute? Or just rude?
This is Helios Depert? The so-called Radiant?
They said he was the emperor’s son by a concubine.
Aside from the difference in coloring, his features and build closely resembled the emperor’s—perhaps even more so than the Crown Prince.
“I only…”
He steeled himself, tension gathering along his jaw. Faint scars marked his skin—quiet proof of hardship.
Yet even those imperfections suited him.
“I wanted to see you again. That’s why I told you my name first. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“If it’s fate, we’ll meet again. But I’m not someone you should seek out deliberately.”
“…Ah.”
Though clearly rejected, his eyes only grew brighter as he studied her intently.
If he couldn’t remember her name—
He would remember something else.
Her sharp chin. Her long neck. The strands of black hair scattered across it. The languid curve of her eyes.
His gaze moved like a hunter’s—instinctive, thorough.
It didn’t feel unpleasant.
Just… heavy.
As though it might leave a mark.
He’s going to devour me at this rate.
Before his gaze could consume even the hem of her clothes, she moved to leave—
“Commander! You can’t just leave His Highness and me behind! What are you doing he—oh?”
A neatly dressed Holy Knight burst out from behind the fountain.
Not wanting to ruin what little remained of her good mood, Enya tried to leave quickly.
But the intruder was faster.
“Morgenda… the Magic Tower…”
The brown-haired knight pointed at her in shock, his eyes scanning her up and down.
The long sleeves that nearly swallowed her hands. The blue garment buttoned up to her neck. The silver serpent embroidered across her back. Her long black hair—and those cold, black eyes.
This dull, oppressive aura—
There was only one person it could be.
“Are you not Enya Valencia—the Master of Morgenda Magic Tower?”
“……”
“You… killed your own master and—”
He swallowed his words, but the meaning remained.
Five years ago—
Enya Valencia had annihilated her master and fellow mages, claiming the Morgenda Tower as its new ruler.
That was what he meant to say.
Enya exhaled a sigh laced with irritation and looked at him.
Disgust and awe crept into his eyes.
Most people who met her for the first time fell into two extremes—
They were either filled with wonder—
Or fear.
And they treated her in only two ways—
With contempt… or with kindness.
When she turned her gaze slightly, she met Helios’s hardened expression.
Within that rigid face—
A faint trace of doubt.
And contempt.
Of course.
A hero like him would never welcome rumors like hers.
It wasn’t surprising.
So why—
Why did it feel so unpleasant?
Because I talked too much?
What… was I expecting?
Did I really think he’d be any different?
With a self-mocking smile, Enya tossed the glass to the ground.
It didn’t shatter—only rolled awkwardly at her feet.
Her gaze shifted slowly from it back to the knights.
“Yes. I am the Master of Morgenda Magic Tower.”
As she admitted it, Helios’s sharp gaze turned piercing—
Like a spear.
She was used to it.
Even so—
It still hurt.
“Tell me—does the Temple not stand under the law as well? Calling my name so freely… that’s rather rude.”
Feeling their stares intensify, Enya twisted her lips into a faint smile.
“If you’re Depert’s dogs, then you must be from the west. No wonder you lack basic manners—born in the wasteland, after all.”
Power gathered in her hand.
In an instant—
A magic circle flared to life beneath the Holy Knight who had spoken her name.
He released his holy power immediately—
But before Enya’s overwhelming magic—
It meant nothing.
