Page 463

0% 1.

Amelia stormed out of the room with the same vigor as Eloa had when she burst in earlier.

Siwoo could only stand there, watching her retreating figure in silence.

‘I’ll bring tea,’ she said...

But, the freshly brewed, warm teapot, was sitting right there.

It was obvious that it was just an excuse.

Of course, that didn’t mean he saw her behavior as pathetic.

If anything, the truly pathetic one here was him.

He was eager to spread his legs around, but he wasn’t prepared for the aftermath at all. It was his wishy-washiness that got him into this whole mess.

“Did I... do something wrong?”

Noticing Siwoo’s tense expression and Amelia’s awkward departure, Eloa felt uneasy.

At the same time, she tried to piece together the situation.

She had no prior connection with Amelia.

Moreover, Siwoo had told her less about Amelia than about Sharon.

But there was no way he’d have risked his life without a reason.

Considering the person he saved was a ‘witch’, only one possibility came to mind.

As much as she loved her disciple, Eloa couldn’t exactly count his womanizing tendency to be among his ‘good traits’.

His face made it painfully clear that he wanted to run after her.

So, Eloa let out a faint bitter smile before she knocked on his head lightly with her fist.

“Ow!”

It wasn’t strong enough to leave a bump, but there was enough force behind it to make Siwoo flinch and clutch his head.

“Go. Get her and explain things to her.”

“Um...”

“Did you not hear me? Go after her and comfort her. Right now.”

Siwoo stared at her in surprise.

The reason he hadn’t chased after Amelia immediately wasn’t just because her whole body seemed to scream ‘Don’t follow me!’ while running away.

It was also because his master rushed in barefooted, worried about her foolish disciple.

He couldn’t bring himself to leave her without a proper explanation of the situation.

But Eloa didn’t press him for details.

She didn’t scold him, nor did she try to monopolize his attention by clinging to him.

Instead, she just nodded in understanding.

That was how deep her trust in him was; so deep that no words were necessary.

“The situation in the Modern World is pretty urgent, so I need to leave right away. Seeing you safe is enough for me.”

“But, you came all this way, Master...”

“If you feel that guilty, then give me a deep kiss. But, I don’t want to kiss someone who has that kind of pathetic look on their face.”

Eloa then pulled him into a firm hug while gently stroking his hair.

Siwoo had saved her when she was falling apart, consumed by her empty revenge.

It wasn’t like she had no greed whatsoever. In fact, it would be a lie if she said that she didn’t feel any kind of possessiveness towards him.

But, she wasn’t selfish enough to take him away from those who needed him more.

“I’ll be fine. Go. You can explain everything to me later.”

“Master...”

“Giving me that kind of look won’t get you a kiss from me. Hurry up and go.”

Siwoo stared at Eloa, who had a benevolent smile on her face, with trembling eyes.

He hadn’t said anything, yet it felt like she already knew everything.

Unlike herself in the past, now, Eloa understood what ‘love’ truly meant.

She repeated herself that she didn’t need a kiss, as if she could see right through the faint guilt weighing on Siwoo’s heart.

And sure enough, if he really were to kiss Eloa here, he’d feel that he’d never follow Amelia with a clear conscience.

“Thank you.”

Siwoo bowed deeply to Eloa as she pushed the back of her incompetent disciple. Then, he ran out to find Amelia.

But, Amelia was nowhere to be seen. Not on the third floor where the kitchen was, nor the second floor where the preparation room was, nor the first floor where the counter to serve the customer was.

“Haa...”

Siwoo let out a sigh.

He already had a good idea where Amelia might have gone, despite her excuse about going to get some tea.

In the past few days, she had been like a skittish stray cat, unsure whether to approach or pull away.

In one moment, she’d cling to him like a lover, while in the next, she’d keep her distance, hesitating.

He understood why she was acting that way.

Hence why he could guess what kind of despair she must have felt when she saw his lover, who had returned so suddenly due to the mess she caused.

How much of that was his fault wasn’t something he’d need to elaborate on.

He rushed towards the hut in the wing nut tree forest.

Knowing Amelia, she’d be waiting for him there.

As if begging him to come and find her.

2.

The first thing that came to Amelia’s mind was that, there was no hope left for her.

While she and Siwoo drifted apart, many lovers came into his life.

She didn’t resent him for that, not even a little.

After all, she was the one who was given the first chance and completely blew it.

Not only that, she also led things down the worst path possible, so she couldn’t possibly blame anyone else for that.

She told herself that it wouldn’t matter even if someone else stood by his side.

After all, Siwoo still smiled at her, held her hand, stayed by her side at night, and shared beautiful moments with her.

So, she shut her eyes to the truth, basking in the fleeting happiness.

She had never seriously considered what lay ahead of that decision.

But when Duchess Tiphereth barged in, hugged, and leaned in to kiss him, immediately, her heart ached.

It felt like she was finally forced to face reality.

Siwoo had always understood her, forgiving her mistakes without holding them against her.

Because he was a kind person.

But his kindness wasn’t exclusive to her.

He shared it equally with the twins, with Sharon, and with Duchess Tiphereth.

Realizing that fact a little too late, she couldn’t help but dwell on it.

A question inevitably rose in her mind, ‘Where do I rank among the people in his life?’.

“I...just don’t want to admit it...”

She had gone through so much to reach him.

They had only just begun to grow closer.

And yet, there was already a woman who seemed far more precious than her by his side, a woman who hadn’t hurt him so deeply unlike her.

She knew it was a petty complaint to have for someone who was indebted to him.

This was no better than the tantrum of a brat, and she knew that.

Jealousy? Now, of all times?

She had apologized so sincerely, yet here she was, shamelessly feeling jealous without knowing her place.

Her fleeting resentment and bitterness toward Siwoo was twisted into sharp self-reproach, stabbing at her chest.

So, she ran.

Again, she fled.

Even though she had sworn to stay strong.

What terrified her now weren’t the nameless Homunculi or the Criminal Exiles she knew only by name, but the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

“I’m pathetic.”

Pathetic.

Utterly pathetic.

Everything about her was pathetic.

Pretending to confront the situation while actually pushing aside thoughts she didn’t want to remember was a form of complacency.

Blinded by the comfort and intimacy of their life together, she became oblivious to the hardships he had endured because of her actions. On top of that, she continued to demand kisses and attention from him without considering his feelings even once.

And now, when she finally faced the truth, she threw away her hard-won courage and fled to her tiny cabin like a coward.

As if it wasn’t enough, she even used magic to fly.

But even here, she found no peace.

Her relentless worries followed her like a shadow, even as she curled up in bed and pulled the blanket over her head.

What is Siwoo doing right now...?

Is she catching up with his lover, sharing stories they had held back for so long?

Or maybe they’re talking about me, the cause of all this chaos...

She knew Siwoo would never speak ill of her behind her back.

But her mistakes weren’t something that could be hidden no matter how beautifully they were framed.

Duchess Tiphereth had the free will to take the information in whichever way she wanted, but if Amelia were to be put in her shoes, she definitely wouldn’t look at the witch who had hurt Siwoo kindly.

“...”

As she rolled around in the covers and flopped onto the bed...

...A sharp pang pricked at her chest.

She didn’t even need to look to know what it was.

Her master’s final letter, the one thing Amelia never allowed herself to part with.

Seeing the letter again only brought back the image of her pathetic self.

She had promised to change, yet her unchanged self was on full display, even within the folds of her clothing.

Of course, the reason she hadn’t read it for so long after the funeral wasn’t just childish stubbornness or an unwillingness to relive her grief.

Amelia deeply loved and respected her master, but at the same time, she resented the decision her master made without consulting her.

It was her small act of rebellion, her way of showing her lingering bitterness. Something that was born from a mix of love and hate that was so strong she sometimes thought she’d grown numb to it.

But, at this moment, a sudden wave of defiance rose in her chest, prompting her to clench her lips tightly.

A voice inside her sneered at her, as if mocking her, ‘Still too scared to open it?’.

After wrestling with her thoughts for a while, Amelia finally shut her eyes tight.

There was no need to use a paper knife.

With just a slight push, the wax seal came off effortlessly.

She unfolded the letter with trembling hands.

The letter was three pages long.

Despite that, those three pieces of paper felt unbearably heavy.

What made Amelia, who had closed her eyes so tightly, to open them wide again was... The all-too-familiar scent of perfume.

The fragrance of Bulgarian rose and ylang-ylang wafted gently at first, light and fresh.

As she was drawn in by the lively scent of the bouquet, a rich, rounded aroma of jasmine followed.

A single white bloom, small yet potent, seemed to fill the room with its essence, scattering its delicate notes over the elegant rose.

Shy, powdery musk emerged, wrapping everything like the delicate paper of a bouquet.

And mingled subtly with it was the distinct, yet familiar scent of her master, mixed with animal-derived perfumes.

Of all the senses, smell was the one most deeply tied to memory.

From the letter came the unmistakable scent of her master, someone she could no longer be with.

It enveloped her gently, just like when she used to fall asleep in her embrace.

“Master...”

Not yet...

I shouldn’t cry yet...

Even as she repeated those words to herself, her tears wouldn’t stop.

Memories of the happy times she had spent in this cabin with her master flashed before her eyes, gently soothing the scars on her heart.

As she stifled her sobs, her gaze fell on the letter, neatly filled with the familiar handwriting she recognized so well.

Every word was written with care.

And then, she heard the voice she had longed to hear again.

“To my beloved daughter, Amelia.”