In short, Kirke was incredibly busy. If someone were to ask me who the busiest person in the world was, I’d say Kirke without hesitation.
‘But that’s the life of someone in power, isn’t it?’
Being responsible for the lives of so many people, it was only natural that he had to keep moving forward. The prince, who had almost fallen victim to the Mad Dragon’s greed, had grown up healthy and was officially appointed as the crown prince. Though still young, he was already being praised for his intelligence, much like his father. He had also shown a talent for swordsmanship, and many expected that with continued training, he would achieve great things.
‘And of course, his teacher is none other than our Duke Elpinard.’
Duke Elpinard, like all masters of the sword, was still in excellent health. In fact, judging by his appearance alone, he still looked to be in his forties, making it feel strange to even describe him as “still strong.” I remembered seeing him at a large party, standing next to nobles of a similar age, and being struck by how much younger he looked. It was to the point that Servian had bitterly remarked on how unfair it was that Duke Elpinard looked like he could be his younger brother.
Even though Servian, too, looked young for his age, especially for someone as busy as the Count of Kol and head of the Imperial Academy, he was always traveling the world, collecting rare and valuable artifacts. He was as enthusiastic as ever, constantly hoping to stumble upon another extraordinary item like the "Reincarnation Subscription Contract" he’d found years ago.
‘Though I do wonder what he plans to do with something like that…’
As long as he didn’t drag me into his eccentric hobbies, I didn’t particularly care what Servian occupied his time with. But for the young man sitting across from me—my friend Leonid—it seemed Servian’s hobby was a constant source of trouble.
“If only Father would return soon, then I’d be free from all this,” Leonid muttered, pulling a small notebook from his coat and glancing through it. Curious, I peeked at its contents, noticing that his schedule was packed full.
“I can’t believe how many parties there are. It’s as if everyone’s desperate to host one.”
With the count away, Leonid had taken on many of his duties, including attending the social gatherings that came with noble responsibilities. One of those obligations was to make appearances at these endless parties.
“I miss the days when I could skip parties by using the Ivory Tower as an excuse,” he sighed, shuddering at the mere thought of the social obligations. Leonid had never been good at forming easy, friendly relationships with others, and the idea of spending time at parties seemed to drain him before he even attended.
During his days as a student at the Ivory Tower, he had been able to excuse himself from such events, claiming academic responsibilities. But now, without that excuse, he had no choice but to attend.
I narrowed my eyes at him and gave him a look-over. “Is it really okay for a professor to be this lazy?”
After graduating, Leonid had chosen to stay at the Ivory Tower and pursue his academic career. Given his eccentric tendency to obsessively dig into a single theory, it was clear he’d found the right path. After publishing several papers, Leonid earned his doctorate, and the Ivory Tower offered him a professorship. He accepted the position, saying, “There’s no better place to do research than the Ivory Tower.”
It’s often said that people grow distant from their childhood friends as they get older, but that wasn’t the case for me and Leonid. Since we lived so close to one another, we had remained in each other’s lives, even after becoming adults, and continued to see each other often.
"Professors are human too. Not everyone is like Eugene," Leonid remarked casually.
“Well… Eugene is…” I trailed off, unsure how to respond.
Leonid narrowed his eyes at me, giving me a once-over. “That’s odd.”
“What is?”
I had a feeling I knew what he found odd, but I pretended not to notice and averted my gaze. Of course, there was no way the eccentric Leonid would let it go.
“Lately, whenever Eugene’s name comes up, you act all awkward. And Eugene, too, changes the subject every time your name is mentioned, even though he pretends he doesn’t care.”
“Well…” I muttered vaguely, clearing my throat.
Unlike Leonid, who had stayed at the Ivory Tower to pursue academia, Eugene had taken a completely different path.
‘He went to the Magic Tower.’
As Axel’s disciple, he had thrown himself into the study of magic and was now teaching students at the Magic Tower. What had started as an attempt to sever his ties with Kreutz had turned out to suit him quite well. Eugene had a surprising amount of talent, and his progress was swift. It wasn’t particularly shocking, given that he had already distinguished himself at the Ivory Tower as a promising talent.
For a while, he had stayed at the Elpinard estate as Axel’s disciple, but a few months ago, he’d started living at the Magic Tower, busy with his new responsibilities. Around that time, my relationship with Eugene had begun to shift.
“You two…” Leonid began, snapping his fingers as if he had just solved a puzzle. “Did you fight again?”
For a moment, my shoulders tensed, worried Leonid might actually guess the truth. But then I relaxed, exhaling deeply and putting on a calm smile.
“Ugh. How did you figure it out?”
“It was obvious. Now it makes sense why you asked me to escort you to the opera instead of Eugene,” Leonid scoffed, clearly proud of himself.
“I don’t know what happened, but just let it go. Once you do, everything will be fine.”
“Why am I the one who has to let it go?”
“Because Eugene is the type who always smiles like a fool whenever it comes to you. I bet his students can’t even imagine their professor smiling warmly.”
“Come on. Sure, Eugene goes easy on me sometimes, but it’s not that extreme.”
“No, it’s exactly that extreme,” Leonid said firmly, widening his eyes for emphasis. At that moment, the carriage finally began to move. Leonid, who had been so engrossed in our conversation about Eugene, suddenly shifted his focus and glanced out the window.
“Looks like we’re finally moving. The crowd's cleared out a bit.”
I glanced outside, and just as Leonid had said, the crowd had thinned significantly. There were still a few people running after the carriage, calling out for the Saintess, but at least we were making some progress now.
"By the way, isn’t Cardinal Bael in the capital right now?" Leonid asked suddenly, as if the thought had just occurred to him.
I nodded lightly, recalling Bael’s face from our recent meeting. Kirke had given birth to her third son not long ago, a joyous occasion for the imperial family. Bael had come from Kydsha to the capital to bestow the god’s blessing upon the newborn prince.
‘…That’s just the official reason.’
There was a more important, underlying reason for Bael’s visit to the capital. In fact, that was the real reason he had come.
“Reshia.”
I remembered the serious tone in Bael’s voice as he spoke my name.
“Have you made your decision?”
At the time, I hadn’t been able to answer right away, but now, I could respond with certainty.
‘I’ve made my decision.’
I had made many decisions throughout my life, but none had required as much determination as this one. Taking a deep breath, I leaned back in my seat, preparing myself.
* * *
"You’re here."
“Huh?”
As I arrived at the Elpinard estate and prepared to step out of the carriage, I blinked in surprise at the sight of Axel, who had extended his hand to help me down. Normally, this sort of task was left to the attendants.
Seeing me frozen in place, Axel waved his hand slightly, urging me to take it. I quickly grasped his hand and stepped out of the carriage, asking him as I did so, “Why are you here?”
“Bael.”
“Ah. So you’ve heard everything.”
His short response was enough for me to immediately understand the situation.
“Was it supposed to be a secret?”
“Of course not. Especially not from *my brother*.”
The word “brother” still felt strange on my tongue, and I awkwardly cleared my throat, embarrassed. Axel chuckled, tightening his grip on my hand. I was pulled closer to him naturally, and as I stood by his side, he looked down at me and asked, “Why did you make that decision?”
His voice wasn’t accusatory; it was filled with genuine curiosity.