“Thank you for inviting me, Madam.”
“Thank you for coming.”
Goyo smiled faintly at the knight, who came dressed more casually than the last time.
The reason Goyo called Rajin Eliom back after three days was that she had decided to participate in the hunting competition.
What resolved Goyo’s dilemma was none other than Annecy’s casual remark. It wasn’t, of course, because he asked for a rabbit fur scarf. He had mentioned that Wartin would grow rapidly.
Goyo had heard several times that growth speeds up when there is a purpose, so she didn’t pay much attention to his words, but the previous statement lacked the adverb ‘rapidly.’
“How big can it grow?”
“If you work hard, it will grow as big as a real whale within two years.”
“My goodness, that big? Then how about within a year?”
“Even if you take it easy, it should at least grow as big as a dolphin.”
The breakfast conversation, which she had brought up without much thought, stimulated Goyo’s desire to achieve something. It was a very slight feeling, but it was an emotion she hadn’t realized she possessed.
As soon as Annecy left the mansion to go to the capital, Goyo, slightly flushed, summoned the whale and tried moving it around.
It was hard to believe that this whale, smaller than a child’s head, could grow so large. The newfound feeling of ambition created a small longing and fanned Goyo’s boredom.
Goyo usually spent her leisure time drinking tea and reading cultural books or summoning the whale, but the unchanging routine was tedious. Wasn’t that why she attended tea parties she normally avoided?
Goyo Bethelgius found it curious that she was experiencing this peaceful boredom.
The place where Goyo spent the most time was naturally the Rubiette Duke’s mansion, but recently, she had been spending most of her time in Alte.
At Rubiette, Goyo’s schedule was filled with education, so although she wasn’t busy, she wasn’t bored either.
At Alte, like in Bethelgius, she had no assigned duties, so she was free, but she didn’t feel idle.
She spent her time in Alte anxiously watching the reactions of everyone around her, feeling hopeful, then anxious, sad, and finally despairing.
In a place where emotions were so turbulent, light emotions like boredom couldn’t find a place.
By the time she was ready to end her life, it was as if she had scraped out all the emotions inside her, leaving only a shell, and she moved mechanically.
So, boredom was an unfamiliar emotion to Goyo.
“The situation hasn’t improved, though.”
What could be the reason she was feeling something she hadn’t felt in either of the two ducal mansions?
It was because she had time. Because she had no expectations.
Goyo Bethelgius had no sense of obligation to do something, nor did she feel responsible for supporting someone. She had no tasks to take on, no education to receive.
With no mental or physical stress, Goyo became bored and peaceful.
It was paradoxical that a life with no hope could be so tranquil, but Goyo thought it wasn’t a bad deal.
Annecy Bethelgius was kind and gentle, and sometimes he acted as if he genuinely liked her. The servants of the mansion were also polite.
The food she had mechanically swallowed began to slowly evoke likes and dislikes after Annecy’s strange proposal, and she began to understand a little of what it meant to enjoy food.
She had merely grown accustomed to the other luxuries aside from food, but if all of this was given in exchange for a short life, she couldn’t help but be satisfied.
Between decades of suffering and a peaceful year, Goyo Bethelgius would naturally choose the latter.
That’s why Goyo had been enjoying her monotonous days in her own way, but now that she had something intriguing, she couldn’t simply go on as she had. If emotions had a hierarchy, boredom would be at the very bottom.
In the end, Goyo made up her mind shortly after Annecy left the mansion and summoned Rajin through Lucullui.
Lucullui had a subtle expression as if trying to hold back laughter, but he politely responded and summoned Rajin Eliom.
“I asked for your help, but I really don’t know what to do.”
After guiding Rajin to the parlor, Goyo spoke first.
“You mentioned before that you usually just called it forth. It must be challenging to suddenly try something more. Did the Marquis say anything else?”
“It was decided right after he left for the capital today, so not really.”
“I see. I recall you said you move the whale through your imagination?”
“Yes, though it feels more like… moving heavy limbs than just imagining.”
As if trying to recall the feeling, Goyo fumbled through her mind. Meanwhile, her arm creaked as it moved, unconsciously explaining her inner thoughts. Rajin, who was listening intently, had to quickly gulp down her tea to stifle her laughter.
“Sir Rajin?”
“Oh, no. My throat was just a bit dry. Ahem, in any case, why not start with the most basic method?”
“The most basic method?”
Rajin smiled brightly at Goyo’s question and opened her bag.
Inside were two thick hardcover books. Goyo’s expression darkened.
“I brought them just in case. These are two foundational texts on elemental magic, well-known in the field.”
“Oh…”
“People around me know I have a strong interest in magic, so they’ll think I borrowed them out of curiosity. You don’t need to worry about being found out.”
“Yes, I see.”
Goyo replied in a lifeless voice as she took the books from Rajin.
Having only been homeschooled, Goyo had never studied with such thick textbooks before.
Even just holding them made her arms ache, and her eyes grew heavy with fatigue.
‘It seems I’ve found something I dislike.’
* * *
9:52 a.m. It wasn’t a particularly late hour, but considering his usual wake-up time, it wasn’t early either.
After checking the clock, the man frowned deeply and let out a sigh.
As he was about to rise from bed, Terio Alte hesitated, halted by the hangover pounding in his head.
He must have overindulged in alcohol, as his mind had been increasingly troubled lately. Add to that the nightmares that visited him every night…
“A knight, yet so pathetic.”
As he circulated his magic to drive away the effects of the alcohol, there was a timely knock at the door. “Come in.” The words had barely left his mouth when the butler entered the room.
“Good morning, Master Terio.”
“Yes, what is it?”
“Your father is calling for you. He requests that you come down to the indoor garden as soon as you’re ready.”
It was about time for him to call. Nodding, Terio quickly washed up and left his room.
Terio Alte’s room was on the second floor, so it wasn’t far to the indoor garden. With brisk strides, he descended the stairs and exited the mansion, where the garden came into view.
“You called for me, Father.”
A middle-aged man, who had been trimming the branches of a tree with garden shears, set the shears down and turned around.
The man, who seemed slightly smaller than Terio Alte, was Duke Alte. Apart from the deep blue eyes, there was no resemblance between the father and son. With eyes that held less affection than when he was looking at the trees, the Duke greeted him briefly. “You’ve arrived.”
“I heard you postponed the engagement.”
“I’ve been making progress in my training recently. I didn’t want to miss a good opportunity, so I delayed it a bit, but there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Spare me the pathetic excuses. Even though I’m just a figurehead, I’m not oblivious to the fact that you’ve been drowning yourself in alcohol lately.”
It wasn’t particularly surprising, as he hadn’t gone to great lengths to hide it. Terio listened to his father’s words with a stoic expression.
“What are you dissatisfied with? You were the one who said you wanted to marry that girl. Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind and taken a liking to another girl. Or perhaps you’re regretting letting that child go?”
“…That’s not it.”
Tsk. The sound of his father clicking his tongue echoed clearly in the quiet garden.
“Remember this, Terio. I don’t intend to wait much longer. Since your mother died, I’ve had no lingering attachments to Alte.”
“I understand.”
“If you don’t prove yourself before my patience runs out, you won’t become the Duke. The Alte family doesn’t hand over the title to someone without a family of their own.”
Kontras Alte, who became the Duke after Giselle Alte’s death, had been restless, eager to shed the title of Alte’s master—a position anyone would covet.
While he hadn’t been as blatant about it when Terio was younger, from the moment Terio became an adult, his father had been relentless in urging him to prove his worth as quickly as possible.
Terio found his father’s attitude tiresome, but also somewhat gratifying. As a knight with noble aspirations, Terio Alte had a strong desire to ascend to a higher position.
Duke Alte, aware of Terio’s ambition, often used it to manipulate his son, as if begging him to take this heavy, burdensome shackle off his hands.
Yet now, even though his father dangled the dukedom before him once again, Terio felt nothing but a deep fatigue. No anger at the shallow taunt, no desire for the position.
Perhaps it was because he didn’t truly believe the title would be passed to his younger sibling.
Terio briefly lowered and then raised his heavy eyelids.
“April seems like a good time, but sooner would be fine too.”
“It’s my engagement, my marriage.”
“No. It’s Alte’s engagement and Alte’s marriage.”
“And wasn’t she the woman you chose?”
Terio couldn’t find any words to respond to his father’s continued remarks. It was true that he had chosen to break off his engagement with Goyo and marry Melissy.
“I gave you freedom, but you mistook it for indulgence. There are no more choices left—marry that girl.”
“…Yes, I understand.”
In the end, Terio Alte lowered his head.
After leaving the indoor garden, Terio returned to the mansion. He needed to eat and change his clothes before heading to the training grounds. He had left in a hurry, and his attire wasn’t suitable for practicing swordsmanship.
However, as soon as he ascended the central staircase by two steps, Terio began to feel a slight headache.
The pain, like ants crawling at the back of his head, was unpleasant but familiar.
Though it had been less than a month, this minor migraine had visited him so frequently that it felt like a companion he had lived with for ten years.
But the headache wasn’t the only thing that clung to him. Every night, a chilling nightmare had been a more persistent visitor, arriving even earlier than the headaches.
On the night he broke off his engagement with Goyo and became engaged to Melissy, Terio Alte had his first nightmare.
The dream began with him and the knights of Alte traversing a rugged mountain.
As if something urgent was at hand, they hurriedly rode into a cave, and as soon as they entered, a burst of violet light caused them to squint.
Then, amidst the light, Terio saw something stark white, and his heart suddenly froze as he desperately ran toward it.
Contrary to his frantic emotions, the scene in the dream moved slowly, allowing him to feel every detail—the pounding of his heart, the sensation of the wind tearing at his skin.
And just as he reached out, running through the unseen light, his hand finally touched something, and at that moment, he would wake up from the dream.
The reason Terio called this insignificant dream a nightmare was the moment he woke from it.
As he opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling of his room, he would realize the same thing every time—his heart was pounding like in the dream, his body was drenched in cold sweat, and both his eyes and pillowcase were soaked with tears.
What was he running toward so desperately, and why did he always wake up in tears?
Terio, weary of this inexplicable nightmare, found it both disturbing and intriguing, but the recurring dream never revealed anything that might satisfy his curiosity.
At least, not until a week ago.
Recently, the nightmare had grown slightly longer, allowing Terio Alte to stay in the dream a little while longer.
Just before the violet light coalesced into a golden hue, Terio had managed to see what his hand had touched. It was—
“A coffin.”
A pure white coffin in which someone lay asleep.
Who could it be, lying there with closed eyes? The inexplicable ache turned into pain, slowly consuming his heart.
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