"May I speak with you, Great Magician Epsilon?" I asked the man who was angrily kicking pebbles in the castle's back garden.
As if this place were his playground, his gestures and movements carried the ease of someone more familiar with the residence than its own lady of the house.
"What is it you want to discuss with me, Leyla von Helming?" Epsilon asked, his expression sour.
"I'd like to clear up a few misunderstandings from earlier."
"Hah! You don't need to explain anything to me."
"I just don't want you to use it as an excuse to report to your dear Lady, so she can spread gossip meant to ruin me."
At last, Epsilon turned his sharp gaze toward me. Mana flared around him, pressing like a suffocating weight in the air.I did not flinch.
"As I thought, you haven't changed," he muttered, letting the mana dissipate.
Smiling faintly, he strode closer until we stood nearly face-to-face. I lifted my chin, meeting his eyes.
"Don't worry. I don't intend to tell Lady Cynthia anything."
Leyla didn't take his words at face value; instead, her heart grew more restless.
"What exactly is your real purpose here? Is Cynthia plotting something again? Or did she send you to sabotage my relationship with Xerta?"
"Pftt… your narcissism really is entertaining. Always convinced the world revolves around you."
I clenched the fabric of my gown in frustration.
"To be honest, you act so full of yourself, as if everyone's attention is fixed on you. Do you really carry such confidence just because you think you're beautiful?"
'Don't falter, Leyla. He's only trying to provoke you.'
"Do you actually feel untouchable now that you've married Xerta? Or are you anxious, knowing your fleeting happiness won't last? That's why you're still flirting with Keith, clinging to him so openly."
Epsilon narrowed his eyes, leaned forward until his face was inches from mine, and hissed through his teeth:
"Sl.ut."
'What do I do? I feel like I'm about to cry.'
Instead, I straightened my back, lifted my chest with pride, and composed myself with calm dignity.
"As I thought… you really are that type. Bold and blatant." Epsilon suddenly laughed. "Tell me, Leyla, are you certain you won't regret marrying Xerta?"
"I will never regret it!"
"Even if you met your future self, telling you firmly not to marry him?"
'What on earth is that supposed to mean? This guy acts like he's two different people.'
"Even if my future self regretted it, I wouldn't. No matter what, I love him! I love Xerta."
I said it loudly—yet it felt truthful. My heart seemed lighter after speaking the words.
"I see… so that's who you are. In the end, you'll fall in love with him again. I only hope you won't regret it."
"Of course I won't," I answered quickly.
For some reason, Epsilon's gaze softened. Honestly, it sent a shiver down my spine—chilling in a way I couldn't explain.
"Do you actually hate me or not?" I blurted.
"Hate you? Who said that?"
I realized then that I'd only assumed all along—that this man might hate me.
"You're always at Lady Cynthia's side. I thought maybe you hated me as well." I asked uncertainly.
"Perhaps it looks that way. But to me, all people are the same. Simply put, I have no need to hate anyone. Isn't it exhausting? To drown in hatred only consumes your sanity."
His gaze was deep… strangely fragile.
"One more question, Sir Epsilon," I said. "You seem so familiar with this place. Have you been here before?"
"You didn't know? Xerta and I were childhood friends."
'What?'
"As I thought. He never told you. Yet you're his wife, and you know nothing about it."
'How embarrassing.'
I had never meddled much in Xerta's affairs. I didn't know his life or his childhood. He, however, seemed to know plenty about me—he must have investigated before offering that contract marriage.
"Lady Cynthia, Xerta, and I—we were childhood friends."
"I already knew about Lady Cynthia and Duke Xerta. I just didn't expect… you as well."
"Ah, so I was forgotten," he murmured, a hint of resignation in his voice. "Yet, I was their friend as well." He paused, his gaze drifting.
"Or perhaps, I was never truly considered one." A shadow of sadness then crossed his face.
"I want to know you from a new perspective," I said gently. "And since you're also Keith's friend, I hope we can get along. There's no need for hatred or hostility between us."
"His friend?" Epsilon blinked.
"You two seem close—you even share a room. Isn't that wonderful?" I smiled broadly.
"Don't misunderstand. He and I aren't close. We just work in the same environment!"
"But you're a royal mage. Do you even share the same workplace?"
"That—" Epsilon stammered, flustered. "Anyway, he and I are not friends!"
"I see… I must have misunderstood. Then what about me? Would you consider being my friend?"
He scowled, affronted. "I have no intention of befriending you either. I could stab you in the back if I wanted, you know!"
I blinked in confusion. As I suspected, this man was like someone with a split personality. Exhausting to talk to.
"Whatever the case, don't get too comfortable. Stay on guard," he warned.
'What a truly strange man!'
"There you are." Xerta appeared, striding toward Epsilon. "You said you'd help. Come on."
"Help with what?" Epsilon frowned.
"Leyla... you're here too." Xerta said, his face relaxing as he came closer. "I'll be busy today, visiting different territories and dealing with things myself."
Behind him stood Solum and Narnia, and further back, Nicholas waved at me cheerfully.
"So I hope you'll look after the estate, and entertain our guests so they don't grow restless," Xerta whispered.
I nodded in understanding.
Epsilon folded his arms. "So, you plan to settle everything today?"
"You said you'd consider helping."
"…Fine. Let's get it over with so I can leave this place."
They seemed almost… familiar. Perhaps they truly were friends. Maybe their earlier clashes had been about something else?
'Or perhaps simply because Lady Cynthia wasn't present.'
Nicholas moved to my side. "Lady Leyla, would you show me around the castle?" he asked quietly, eyes bright with excitement.
His jovial nature was contagious; I might have forgotten his royal status if not for it.
"Then, I'll be off," Xerta bid me farewell.
"Take care, my… my husband," I stammered, my cheeks aflame.
He looked startled, hiding his mouth with a hand, flustered.
Epsilon left first, grimacing at what he'd just witnessed. Soon, the four of them were gone.
'Did Keith go too?'
Nicholas was gazing at a snow-laden tree, so I turned to him. "Come, Lord Nicholas, let me show you around," I offered.
Together, we walked across the blanket of snow. Sunlight glittered off the ice, as the skies had finally cleared after the storm.
In the distance, a familiar silhouette emerged—Keith, a dark shape against the white, snowy field. His brown hair, which was slightly reddish, reflected the sunlight, and his clothes seemed thin even in this inhospitable environment.
His form, even from afar, sagged with the weight of thought. Nicholas, close by, his voice a ripple in the crisp air, called out, but Keith remained still, seemingly oblivious.
Then I saw someone approach him. Sera?
I had met her earlier—cheerful, unlike her brother.
Keith turned, noticing her, and they began talking. He scratched the back of his head, looking almost bashful.
I couldn't hear their words, but Keith… Keith was smiling. A genuine, rare smile. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd seen him look so happy.
'What are they talking about?'
My heart sank. Slowly, I felt the distance between Keith and me growing wider. Was it selfish of me to want things to go back to the way they were? But we'd already talked about it this morning.
'Maybe… maybe it's better this way.'
A sudden, sharp chill prickled my skin. A low growl vibrated in the air, making my flesh crawl. My eyes widened as I spun and saw Nicholas's face was contorted, the soft lines of his youth now a mask of something monstrous, hard and cold.
"Your Highness…" I stammered. "Is something wrong?"
In an instant, his expression melted back into a sunny smile. "No, nothing at all." His tone was light, playful again.
"But more importantly, let's go join Keith." Nicholas hurried ahead, calling out his name.
'Why does everyone Keith knows feel creepy?'