Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Since that day, the boy’s table was graced with every kind of egg dish imaginable. First came egg soup, then steamed egg custard. Next, scrambled eggs and omelets. Isabella cooked for him every single day.
Four days later…
“Ugh, milady, please, could you make something else… Watching all this, I feel like I’m turning into a chicken!”
Baal, who was busily boiling eggs for egg salad, gagged at the sight. Vlad, watching nearby, nodded in agreement.
Isabella set down her spatula and asked, puzzled, “Why? Don’t you like it?”
“It’s not about taste. Anyone would be sick of nothing but eggs for four days straight!”
“But the fairy’s been eating it just fine.”
“He’s the strange one! Even the smell of eggs makes me queasy now!”
Baal’s eyes shimmered with tears as he complained. Since cockatrice eggs were so large and so plentiful, everyone in the mansion was fed egg dishes day in, day out and they were all grumbling.
Isabella gazed at the plump eggs bobbing in the bubbling pot, then sighed. “Okay… But I’ve already started on this, so let’s eat it today and that’s it.”
At this, Baal let out a raucous cheer, and Vlad joined in, celebrating wildly.
“Baaah! Thank you, milady! I just have to hold out until tonight!”
“Heh heh. Perfect. Tomorrow I’ll whip up a seafood feast. It’s been ages since I really stretched my culinary muscles.”
“Oh! Vlad, that’s a brilliant idea! I’ll run and tell Amon right away!”
“…”
Baal darted out of the kitchen so fast it hurt to watch, something entirely un-Baal–like, and Isabella felt unexpectedly uneasy.
A little later, having finished her cooking, Isabella carried the tray of egg salad toward the boy’s room.
“Fairy, I brought you lunch… Fairy?”
Clang!
When she opened the door, she glimpsed the boy perilously balanced on the narrow windowsill and nearly dropped the tray in shock. The salad bowl and a glass shattered at her feet.
But Isabella barely noticed the broken glass; she dashed forward and caught the boy before he could vanish like mist.
“Y-you’re going to hurt yourself. Please get down. Were you planning to leave without a word?”
His wounds had scabbed over and healed enough that Isabella had removed his leather restraints two days ago. Back then, she’d been certain he would leave at once. But surprisingly, he’d stayed these past two days and she’d relaxed. Yet seeing his back just now made her heart plummet.
Tears welled unbidden and slipped down her cheeks. The boy brushed them away with cold fingertips.
“Don’t cry. I’m not leaving today.”
“R-really?”
Her vision blurred by tears, she could barely make out his face in silhouette against the sun. Still, something about his usual guarded air felt… gentler.
He spoke again, as if to reassure both of them. “Yes. Today…”
“Oh, thank goodness.”
Isabella exhaled the relief she couldn’t keep inside and smiled. The boy watched her quietly, then climbed down from the windowsill, took her wrist, and sat her gently on the bed.
“Fairy?”
When she tilted her head, he immediately knelt and slipped off her shoes to check her feet. Only then did Isabella realize she’d stepped on broken glass.
‘He’s worried about me…’
Since he’d arrived at the estate, the boy had remained aloof and brusque. But in these rare moments of tenderness, Isabella could only melt.
She grinned and said, “Don’t worry. I’m fine. My soles are thick.”
The boy’s hand froze, as if struck by her words, and he sprang up, storming to the sofa across the room.
“Nonsense. I just didn’t want your shoes tracked with glass.”
His cheeks reddened, so unlike him, that Isabella giggled, her heart fluttering.
A moment later, a servant entered.
“Please clear away the glass. And tell Eve to bring my shoes.”
“As you command, milady!”
Soon the servant returned with her shoes. Isabella slipped them on, then sat down beside the boy.
“Heh heh… Fairy, shall I brush your hair?”
For days she’d persisted in caring for him even when he refused. But tending his hair, so radiant in the light, had become her small, private joy.
“S-shut up and do it,” he finally mumbled, surrendering to her.
She beamed like she’d won a treasure and began to smooth his hair.
“Just the hair, then I’ll fetch your lunch.”
“Mm.”
He offered no protest, uncharacteristic, but she relished the moment, humming softly. Little did she know that this was his parting kindness.
Around midnight that night, Isabella awoke thirsty. She reached for the water on her nightstand and someone handed her the glass.
“Oh, thank you.”
Groggy with sleep, she didn’t question it until the glass touched her lips and she realized how odd it was.
‘Wait… Baal and Eve wouldn’t be in my room at this hour.’
At night, Baal slept next door, and Eve returned to her tomb. Startled awake, Isabella looked up to see—
“F-fairy?”
Though it was dark, moonlight glinted off silver hair and she knew it was him. He stood so neatly dressed he looked ready to depart.
“Are you leaving? You said you wouldn’t leave today…”
Ding, ding, ding—
At that moment, the grandfather clock chimed. Twelve slow, hollow notes echoed through the silent room. In the final tolls, Isabella understood what ‘today’ meant.
“It’s past midnight.”
Her heart ached at the thought that this bright, life-giving boy, this stranger who had touched her life, was slipping away. Tears sprang to her eyes again, but she brushed them off and offered a bright farewell.
“Your wounds have healed nicely, but don’t overdo it. If you ever want to see me again, you know where to find me. Just know that if you show up bloody this time, I’ll give you the bitterest medicine you’ve ever tasted!”
He would never come back for her, she knew but she forced a brave laugh and added sincerely, “May the war god Herfod’s blessing guide you.”
The boy flinched at her words. They were the parting wish one gave before great battles. Silence fell between them. Then, glancing out the window, he murmured, “I’ll be safe here, I suppose.”
“Huh?”
She tilted her head at his cryptic remark. He turned back to her.
“Forget what happened between us. You never met me and I never saved you.”
His words weren’t a thank-you or a goodbye; they erased their very bond. Isabella felt a stone drop onto her heart, yet she could not bring herself to speak. His voice was strained, as if he too resisted saying such things. She pressed her lips together.
‘I should send him with a smile.’
When she finally raised her head, he was gone like a wisp of moonlit fog.
The next morning, as always, Isabella entered the boy’s room out of habit.
“Oh… he’s not here.”
The emptiness where he once sat reading felt unbearable. She drifted to the bed they had shared memories on and slid her hand across its neat surface.
“They say plants have memories too… If only forgetting were as simple as being told to forget.”
Her thoughts, whether fond or first love, tangled in her heart. Then something glinted beneath the pillow.
“What’s this?”
She picked it up.
“A ring?”
An old band set with a deep blue gemstone like the sea, its facets shimmering mysteriously. Though worn, it was remarkably well cared for. Isabella’s heart skipped, then she realized her mistake.
“Oh dear me! I never asked the fairy’s name!”
She tugged at her hair in frustration, but then pressed the ring to her chest and thought,
‘Someday… I hope we meet again.’
From that day on, the blue ring became her precious talisman, the bond to the boy.
* * *
Isabella hung the ring, now a pendant, around her neck and hid it beneath her clothes, murmuring with hope, “If I go to the debutante ball, maybe I’ll see the fairy again?”
Eight long years passed. His face faded like an old photograph. She didn’t even know if he was common-born or noble, let alone from the same empire. Yet some flicker of hope, or fate, told her she would find him in the capital. With that dream, she drifted to sleep.
The next afternoon, as hoofbeats rattled the carriage wheels, Isabella journeyed toward the capital. Because she shared their destination, the summoners had released their monsters, and Cedric’s party now escorted her.
Bored, she idly played string-and-finger games with Baal when…
“It’s noisy outside. We must have arrived.”
Baal announced with his creature’s sharp senses.
“Really?”
Isabella tossed aside her string and flung open the carriage window, eager to glimpse the city beyond.
