Chapter 13
She opened her eyes.
The ceiling of the familiar bedroom came into view.
Through the haze of her sluggish mind, unpleasant memories slipped in seamlessly.
— “I really hate you. I always meant to come find you one day, but thanks for saving me the trouble.”
— “The one who poisoned the child… was me.”
Ah, that’s right. Sasha had pushed her.
Sasha’s room was on the fifth floor, the highest point of the mansion aside from the attic. She had been pushed from that height.
She moved her arm. Aside from a mild headache, her body was otherwise unharmed.
“…How…?”
Flutter.
[I at least have the power to protect my contractor’s body.]
A dark crimson butterfly landed gently on her shoulder.
“…Ah.”
A spirit of darkness.
Its name was… yes…
“Nyx.”
As she uttered the name, the butterfly fluttered its wings once more, as if in joy.
Am I truly a spirit contractor now? she wondered.
Perhaps sensing her disbelief, the butterflies fluttered around her softly, as if to reassure her.
[Looking for the mark of the contract?]
[It’s on your hand.]
She looked down at her palms. A black, geometric sigil of unknown shape was engraved on her right hand.
She stared at the hand for a while before gently curling her fingers into a fist.
She had fallen from the fifth floor.
If she’d landed headfirst, she could have died. Even without that, the height alone was enough to cause serious injury.
If she’d hit the ground directly, if the spirits hadn’t come to her in that moment, she would have been gravely wounded, if not dead.
She shuddered as the memory of Sasha’s chilling expression resurfaced. Sasha, who had hidden behind the Grand Duke and watched her fall.
That grotesque smile on her lips, unblinking, as she watched her plummet.
— “The one who poisoned the child… was me.”
The memory stretched further, reaching the words Sasha had whispered just before she pushed her.
Suddenly, nausea surged from deep inside her.
“Ugh…”
Overwhelmed by the rising tide of emotions, the butterflies flitted about her as if to comfort her.
Clatter.
The door burst open without so much as a knock.
Someone entered the room.
She slowly raised her head from where it had been buried between her knees.
It was the Grand Duke.
The man who had seen her fall from the window, yet had run to Sasha instead.
“Asila. Were you a mage all this time?”
She gazed at him in silence.
He didn’t even ask how she was doing, as if such concern was too much to expect. Instead, he launched straight into what he wanted to know. It was almost laughable. Pathetic, even.
This was the man who had locked her away in the attic for a month, who had forced her through that living nightmare, and now he spoke to her as if nothing had happened, utterly shameless.
Her gaze turned icy. Her thoughts stilled, as if someone had poured cold water into her skull.
She no longer found him beautiful.
“Just before you hit the ground, your fall slowed drastically. I was told you weren’t even injured. That could only be magic. You were a mage, weren’t you? That’s an incredibly rare gift, why did you hide it all this time?”
“…Ha.”
A hollow laugh escaped her lips.
This is the man I once loved.
She could feel every lingering remnant of emotion draining away.
The haze that had clouded her vision lifted, leaving only a gaping emptiness in its place.
She studied him, strangely patient now, watching as he waited for her answer.
Those blue eyes were fixed on her.
There was a time she’d found them beautiful.
She had once thought they shimmered like the sea, radiant, like the light that had saved her.
Saved me? No… I was just dragged into a deeper swamp.
“Ha… Ha ha! Hahaha!”
Laughter burst out of her, wild and broken, driven by the sudden wave of despair.
Slowly, she rose from the bed. Her head throbbed.
Though her legs nearly gave out, she staggered forward, toward the Grand Duke.
Splash.
Water-soaked golden hair fell limp. Droplets streamed down his stunned face. The cup, having bounced off him, rolled across the floor.
“What… do you think you’re doing?”
His voice came low through clenched teeth.
The blue eyes she once adored now brimmed with confusion and annoyance.
How amusing. If it had been before, he would’ve let loose his anger and stormed out. But now he stood there, holding himself back.
She found it laughable, how hard he was trying not to explode.
“Leave.”
“What are you—”
“I said leave.”
When he still didn’t move, she forced the corners of her trembling lips into a smile and continued.
“When Lady Barthe pushed me, when I was falling, you just stood there and watched. And now you show your face to me, with what nerve?”
“That’s… because you provoked Sasha…”
He was still trying to shift all the blame onto her. She couldn’t have been more disgusted.
“Even if I had died right there… I doubt you would’ve cared. Am I wrong?”
A storm of darkness welled up inside her, an emotion so thick and foul it could only be described as loathing.
As she tilted her head, the Grand Duke’s carefully composed expression finally cracked.
Silence stretched between them.
“…I’ll come back.”
After staring at her for a long time with that wrecked face, he mumbled those words and shut the door behind him as if fleeing.
Expressionless, she turned away from the door he’d closed.
He wouldn’t be coming back.
She was leaving today, after all.
The butterflies fluttered down onto her shoulder.
[Asila, should we kill him?]
[We felt his murderous intent. We can do it for you.]
The butterflies, now perched on her hand, whispered.
She didn’t know why, but their voices, unchanged as they were, rang louder than ever in her mind.
The image of herself falling flashed through her head again.
That frail-looking Sasha had pushed her with a force so violent it was hard to believe it had come from her.
She hadn’t been able to grab hold of anything. The helplessness was absolute.
Had the spirits not come to her in that moment, her body would already be cold in the morgue.
Sasha, who had poisoned her own child just to frame Asila, and ultimately tried to kill her.
The Grand Duke, who had seen it all and done nothing.
Nausea welled up again.
[Asila, should we kill him?]
As her thoughts spiraled, she realized that twice as many spirits were now gathered on her hand. She flinched.
“No. It’s alright.”
[If you ever want us to, just say the word.]
[Yes. For your sake, we’ll do anything.]
The butterflies rose into the air, circling her softly. She glanced down at her palm where they had rested.
What… just happened?
It felt like she’d been momentarily possessed, like her emotions had spiked beyond her control.
DONG.
The sound of the estate bell announcing five o’clock snapped her out of her deepening thoughts.
The haze in her mind lifted.
It felt like waking from a dream.
Right. This wasn’t what mattered.
She rose from bed and pulled a small pendant from her bosom.
Even while falling, she hadn’t let go of it.
A link to the one person who had given her a place to go.
The emerald pendant shimmered in the evening light pouring through the window.
It was a one-time artifact. That made her even more careful as she rotated the small needle inside, just as Ledin had instructed before he left.
She turned the needle a full circle counterclockwise and waited.
At first, nothing happened.
“…Ah.”
But as soon as one of the butterflies landed on the pendant, a soft light began to spill from it.
It was a gentle green glow, just like the nymph spirits that always hovered near Ledin.
And then….
— …Asila?
A disbelieving voice came from the softly glowing pendant.
“Ledin.”
There was a long pause. The familiar voice of the man she knew didn’t return right away.
The light still radiating from the artifact meant it was working.
He just wasn’t speaking yet.
So she waited, without rushing him.
One by one, the butterflies came to rest on the artifact.
Curious, aren’t you?
Time passed. Finally, she heard the sound of a long exhale from the other side.
Not quite a sigh, but the kind of breath one lets out when trying to accept something hard to believe.
— Asila.
Her name came again, and she swallowed hard.
“Ledin, you said I could reach out if I ever changed my mind. Does that still hold true?”
Another silence followed, but not as long this time.
— …Of course.
At last, a quiet answer settled around her.
She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been until her whole body relaxed.
The butterflies around her fluttered.
— I’ll be there within the hour. You’re still at the Grand Duke’s estate, right?
She blinked.
She had been wondering if she’d need to stay at an inn after leaving today, but it turned out to be a needless worry.
Before she knew it, the corners of her lips lifted.
“…Yes.”
Just as she gave her slow reply, something crashed loudly on Ledin’s end of the artifact.
And then, the glow from the pendant vanished all at once.
She exhaled and stood.
Now I have somewhere to go.
All that was left was to throw down the divorce papers.
She placed the artifact on the table, opened the drawer. The butterflies, curious, flitted around the pendant and perched delicately on it.
Her eyes flicked across the room. It had been cleaned, immaculately so. Just earlier, before she’d gone to Sasha’s room, it had been a wreck.
The Grand Duke must’ve realized how disgraceful it looked, even to him.
Some items were missing, but she didn’t care. She was leaving.
Sasha probably had a hand in this, but there was one thing Asila knew she wouldn’t have touched.
Even if she’d destroyed or thrown everything else away, that one item, Sasha would have kept safe, because it was something she always wanted to wave in Asila’s face.
“…Ah.”
Found it.
She heard the crinkle of aged paper inside a yellowed envelope of poor quality.
The divorce papers.
She curled one side of her lip into a smirk and opened them.
Karl von Ludwig.
The name stamped in bold letters.
What did I feel when I first saw this?
She lowered her gaze.
Yes. It had felt like dying.
The man she loved had loved another woman, built a family with her, had a child, and now had sent this document to cast her aside.
Of course she hadn’t been glad to receive it.
The way her chest had been pierced, defenseless, by a needle of grief was something she never wanted to feel again.
She had collapsed, sobbing.
Yes, she had.
She slowly picked up the pen and signed her name in the blank space.
Asila von Celsia.
The first and last time she would write her name as a princess.
Something in her chest crumbled as she rose to her feet.
Her steps toward the Grand Duke’s office were so light she surprised even herself. The butterflies fluttered alongside her, like guardians.
She ignored the butler’s warning that His Grace was in the middle of work.
She didn’t need anyone’s permission anymore.
When she opened the door, the Grand Duke glanced at her, then wordlessly returned his gaze to the papers before him.
He had once come running, demanding if she was truly a mage, and now he was already bored of her again.
Still, perhaps ignoring her entirely felt too awkward. His lips parted.
“I’m busy. You should come back—”
“Your Grace, I’m here to divorce you.”
Her voice rang lightly through the room.
The man, who had been waving her away, froze mid-motion.
