Crunch… crunch…
I munched on the snacks and sipped the tea Josh had served. Beside me, Nicholas and Epsilon looked utterly bored.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at the coachman, who had just parked Nicholas's carriage and now sat stiffly next to him. His expression was blank, almost stern. Even Josh seemed hesitant to offer him tea, and when he finally did, the man refused with a shake of his head.
I pushed my plate toward him. He stared at my hand for a long moment, then glanced at Nicholas, who gave him a smile.
"In that case, I'll take one," the stoic man finally said, accepting my snack.
To my surprise, the pastry was delicious—far better than I expected. It reminded me of a little bakery I once visited back when I was still Jung Cha-ri.
"Does it suit your taste?" Leyla's smile found me as I was halfway through another bite.
I froze, sitting upright instantly. Had I been eating too greedily?
"Ah, crumbs on your clothes, my guest," she pointed out.
"What?"
I hastily brushed the crumbs from my lap. It would be mortifying if Leyla laughed at me.
"And on your cheek as well." She stood as if to wipe it herself, but before she could, Epsilon reached over and tapped my cheek with his fingers.
"You eat like a child," he teased.
This man—always like this.
Leyla blinked, startled, then returned to her seat. What had she intended to do just now?
"If you don't mind waiting a little, Lord Xerta is currently in the middle of an important meeting," Leyla said gently. "But if you wish, you may state your purpose to me, as the lady of the house."
My eyes dropped to the scroll tucked in the bag by my feet. Before I could answer, Epsilon spoke up. "We'll wait until Lord Xerta is finished."
Something flickered across Leyla's face, and for a moment, I felt a current of tension pass between the two of them.
"Lady Leyla," Nicholas chimed in, "may I ask who Lord Xerta is meeting with?"
"No need to be so formal with me," she replied kindly. "He's meeting with several village chiefs from the surrounding lands. Naturally, I can't say when it will conclude."
"Perhaps, in the meantime I could show you around the estate?" she offered brightly.
A tour? Was this supposed to be a study trip? I truly didn't understand.
But one thing was certain—Leyla had no intention of leaving us alone here.
'Leyla, you really are the perfect lady of the house… hic.'
"By the way," she continued, "did the four of you come together for the same purpose?"
"I—well, Epsilon and I have separate matters," I cut in quickly. "I'm here on behalf of Duchess Hemser, while Epsilon represents the Royal Court. As for Lord Nicholas, we merely crossed paths at the estate gates."
Leyla turned to me, her eyes widening briefly, then shifted her gaze toward Nicholas. "And what of you, Lord Nicholas?"
He chuckled. "Curious, are you? Honestly, I came hoping to have a private word with Xerta. But seeing how long the line already is, I'll return tomorrow instead."
"I see…" Leyla looked hesitant.
"Josh, you know what to do," Nicholas said casually.
"Yes, young master Nicholas. I'll prepare a room for your stay," Josh replied.
Leyla blinked in surprise. So did I.
"Then in that case," Epsilon said nonchalantly, "Keith and I will also need rooms. Should Lord Xerta's meeting drag on, we'll spend the night here as well."
I whipped my head toward him, stunned.
"As you wish, Lord Epsilon," Josh bowed.
'Wait, wait, why are they both acting so at home here, like they're old friends of Xerta?'
Even more shocking was Josh's easy compliance. Leyla turned to me, bewildered, as though seeking an explanation.
'Don't look at me, Leyla. I'm just as confused as you are.'
Epsilon rose smoothly. "I'll excuse myself to the lavatory."
Josh gave a polite nod, and Epsilon strolled off without hesitation—straight toward the correct hallway.
'He even knows where the bathroom is?!' My head spun.
"The pastries really are delightful," Nicholas said suddenly, breaking the silence.
"Right, Nick?" I answered before I could stop myself. "The sweetness is perfectly balanced, and the texture practically melts in your mouth. Honestly, I'd love to learn the recipe myself, if only I had the chance—"
I trailed off. Everyone's eyes were on me, staring as though I'd grown another head.
"Eh?"
Nicholas covered his mouth, laughing. "Keith… I never thought I'd see that expression on your face."
"If you're that curious, Keith," Leyla said with a warm smile, "I'll introduce you to the head chef later."
"Hohoho, Albert will be delighted to hear such praise," Josh added.
Even the coachman gave a reluctant nod.
'What exactly about me surprised them all so much?'
---——---
Epsilon's footsteps echoed softly against the polished stone floors of the castle. How long had it been since he last set foot here? Each step stirred faint ripples of nostalgia—faces, voices, memories that should have stayed buried. Useless, he thought. What point was there in clinging to the past? Better to keep his mind anchored in the present.
The corridor stretched endlessly before him. He passed beneath tall arched windows where the pale winter light bled in, then slowed as his gaze landed on the portraits hanging in order along the wall.
Familiar faces stared back at him: Eric von Helming, Niria von Helming, Xerta von Helming, Sera von Helming. A family framed in painted, a happy family indeed.
And there's Xerta, an eleven-year-old kid. His painted eyes appearing to track movement, felt the cool canvas under his fingertip, and the smell of old oil paints lingered near the portrait.
At last, Epsilon reached the study. Once, the late Duke Helming had always been found within, a presence that had dominated the room. Now the man was nothing more than a memory.
From behind the heavy door came Xerta's voice."If what you say is true, then it must have some connection to this extreme weather."
"My lord Duke," replied another voice, hesitant but firm, "I only said the monsters' movements have been strange. That doesn't necessarily mean it ties to the storms."
"Furthermore," a second man added, "the damage to a surveillance orb near the perimeter compromises the reliability of the information we provide."
"In our own village," came a third voice, strained with worry, "three children have gone missing. No one knows where they've gone. Parents are begging for an official search party. This has unsettled everyone, my lord."
"Why must every problem arrive at once…" Xerta muttered, fingers no doubt pressing against his brow. "And what of Gasfery Village? Any urgent reports from there?"
A fourth voice spoke, heavy with unease. "Our food reserves won't last if the snowstorm continues two more days. I fear hunger will spread among the people."
"Very well," Xerta answered. "My secretary, Narnia, will record your reports. I'll see to the best solutions for each matter. As for the monsters, I'll investigate myself—and call upon the mages of the Tower to repair the orb. The barrier wall at the border is still intact, correct?"
"For now, yes. The guards report no breaches."
"Good. I'll dispatch my men, Solum and Seth, to verify in person."
"Thank you for your generosity, Duke Helming. May you remain safe." A pause, then two voices in unison, "And congratulations on your recent marriage."
"…My thanks. I accept your well-wishes," Xerta replied politely.
As the door opened, Solum and Seth escorted the group of men outside, revealing Epsilon, who had been waiting behind the door.
When the last of them departed, Xerta leaned against his desk, pressing his fingertips into his temples. Dark shadows circled his eyes. He hadn't noticed Epsilon at all, not for the two full seconds he'd been standing there.
Finally, Epsilon let his voice cut through the silence. "You look overwhelmed, Lord Duke." His lips curled in a mocking smile.
Xerta's head lifted sharply, surprise flashing across his face before hardening to coldness. "Why are you here?"
"I came with Keith. You know we have business with you."
"If this is about Cynthia, leave. I don't want to hear it."
"Are you sure?" Epsilon arched a brow. "You'd turn me away without even listening?"
Xerta's gaze stayed frosted over.
"That would mean you're dismissing the Great Magician," Epsilon sneered. "I hear you're in need of the Tower's aid. One of your precious orbs is broken, isn't it?"
"You—" Xerta's composure cracked, his eyes narrowing. "Have you been eavesdropping all this time?"
Epsilon nearly laughed aloud. He'd known this man long enough to see through him. To him, Xerta was nothing more than a hollow imitation of his father Eric, feigning strength he didn't have.
'A poor copy.' Epsilon thought.
"At least you'll listen, won't you?" he said aloud. "Don't worry. I won't force you now. Rest first—you look like you haven't slept in days."
"You mean… you're staying here for a while?" Xerta asked quietly.
"You could say that. Don't think I'm comfortable about it—I'm not. Sharing the same roof with you is nauseating. But I'll endure, at least until Keith and I finish what we came here for."
"Keith…" Xerta's eyes flickered. "You seem rather attentive to him."
The words struck a nerve. "And what of you?" Epsilon shot back. "I didn't expect you to get close to him so quickly. Aren't you the one who claims to despise humans?"
"Don't compare me to you. That man deserves my attention. He's already more than an acquaintance—he's a rival."
Epsilon's lips curled in distaste. Rival. For Xerta, every relationship boiled down to either love or rivalry. Disgusting.
"In that case, I'll head back to your drawing room. I only slipped away under the pretense of visiting the toilet. If old man Josh realizes I've gone missing, he'll start sniffing around."
"Epsilon!"
He stopped, turning at Xerta's call. "Let's walk there together," Xerta said.
Epsilon's mouth twisted. "Why the sudden friendliness?"
"What's wrong with it? You started speaking casually first." A faint smirk. "Besides, I ought to greet Keith myself. Unlike you, he's never been here before."
"Xerta…" Epsilon muttered as the man fell into step beside him. Then, without warning, he asked, "Why did you marry Leyla Nerwine?"
Xerta froze.
"You don't even like her," Epsilon pressed.
A sigh slipped from Xerta. "On what grounds do you say that? I like her more than you think." He shook his head slowly.
Epsilon frowned. He couldn't understand—not Cynthia's thoughts, not Xerta's. Not then, not now.
"If this is still some petty game to make Cynthia jealous, stop it. You've gone too far," Epsilon said flatly.
"Why would you assume that? Get rid of those delusions, Epsilon. I don't care about Cynthia. Never did." Xerta's voice hardened, tinged with mockery. "Better tell your mistress to end her obsession with me."
"Cynthia is not my mistress," Epsilon snapped. "You've called me her dog before. Do you actually enjoy provoking me?"
"I thought you liked being called that," Xerta shot back with a pointed look.
"…Not anymore," Epsilon said quietly.
Not since a year ago.
Not since his second life began.
Not since he realized that he is a returner.