Chapter 32
Aref wore a deeply troubled expression, as if he were the one who had been hurt.
Ardores looked at him and asked,
“Why do you want to learn the sword?”
“To become a knight,” Aref replied.
“Why?”
“Because I have to protect the Lady. That’s my duty.”
“That’s just something Nini said on her own. You don’t have to protect her. Aref, you’re free to live your own life.”
“No, I can’t!”
Aref suddenly shouted.
The boy, usually so calm and quiet, raised his voice for the first time, his tone filled with determination and frustration.
Ardores didn’t interrupt him. He simply let Aref speak.
“The Lady is still a child—smaller and younger than me—but she protects me. That’s why I have to protect her too! I’m her subordinate!”
“There are plenty of people who could protect Nini besides you, though.”
“Even so!”
Tears began to gather in Aref’s bright red eyes.
He didn’t know exactly why he felt so upset and frustrated, but he stubbornly insisted that he had to be the one to protect her, sniffling as he spoke.
He was desperate to fulfill the duty he believed had been given to him.
“I have to protect her! I must!”
“Aref.”
“That’s why I’m going to become stronger! I have to be the one to protect the Lady. No other beast should ever—!”
“Aref!”
Two large hands gripped Aref’s shoulders firmly.
Aref gasped.
Only then did he realize he had been yelling without taking a breath. As soon as he inhaled, he choked and started coughing.
Ardores gently patted his back.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes…”
Aref let out a soft cough and nodded.
“I’m sorry,” Ardores said. “I was testing you.”
“T-Testing me…?”
“I wanted to see how much Nini really means to you.”
“She’s more important to me than I am!”
Aref answered without hesitation.
The words were a bit clumsy, but the meaning was clear—he valued her more than his own life.
But Ardores shook his head.
As if to say that was the wrong answer.
“The person you should value most… is yourself.”
“Why? I’m just a worthless orphan.”
“Because Nini likes you. Very much. More than you probably know.”
“…”
Aref’s soft cheeks turned a rosy pink.
He knew Nivellia liked him—but hearing someone else say it out loud made his heart flutter with joy.
“Hehe…”
A wide, pure smile spread across his face.
Ardores looked at him fondly and continued,
“That’s why you must cherish yourself. Don’t ever call yourself a ‘worthless orphan’ again.”
“But… everyone says that…”
“Who?”
Ardores asked with a firm tone.
“Here, in the Deiamor estate—who would dare say something like that to you?”
“N-No one.”
Aref quickly replied.
Since coming to live at Deiamor, not once had anyone called him an orphan. No one insulted him.
In fact, they called him Young Master Aref.
They spoke to him kindly, using gentle voices and respectful titles.
They taught him patiently when he didn’t know something, praised him when he did well, and comforted him warmly when he made mistakes.
They greeted him in the mornings, asking if he slept well.
And at night, they wished him a peaceful rest.
“…I like it here.”
Aref truly loved Deiamor.
Overcome with emotion, he wiped away his tears with the back of his hand.
From that moment on, he quietly promised himself never to call himself a “worthless orphan” or use cruel words like that again.
Because the truth was—even he felt deeply hurt whenever he said those things.
“We really do care about you, Aref.”
Ardores gave him a warm, gentle smile.
Summer Had Fully Arrived.
“It’s hot.”
Nivellia summed up the entire season with one word.
“Too hot.”
Even the slightest movement left her skin covered in sweat.
On top of that, her naturally high body temperature as a child made the heat even harder to bear.
“It’s really hot, right? That’s why you have to wear your hat so your face doesn’t get sunburned.”
“Deter, make the sun go away.”
Nivellia, clearly drained by the heat, spoke in a small, tired voice.
“Even I can’t do that. Not even the Tower Master could.”
“The Tower Master isn’t that great anyway. Always falling short.”
“You’re probably the only person who would dare compare the great Tower Master to the neighbor’s dog, my lady.”
Deter had dressed her in the lightest, most breathable clothes possible—careful not to let her delicate skin burn under the summer sun.
The final thing he prepared was…
“Here. Once you tie this around your neck, you’re all set.”
It was a cooling scarf that would stay chilled for eight hours.
A magical item handcrafted by the famous Tower Master—and carefully unsealed by Ardores himself.
It was a special item, filled with a grandfather’s love.
As soon as Nivellia tied the scarf around her neck, the color returned to her face.
“It feels so cool!”
“The Tower Master made that. It’ll keep you cool for eight hours, so you’ll be comfortable during the whole trip.”
“Wow… I guess the Tower Master is useful after all!”
“He’s much more amazing than you think, my lady,” Deter said gently.
Nivellia, having finally finished getting ready, stepped outside with Deter.
Today’s plan was to visit the site of the former flower farm — now a future pharmaceutical facility — and meet with a group of witches there.
“Are Grandma and Grandpa coming too?”
“They left a bit earlier. They said they knew some of the witches from the war and wanted to catch up before the meeting.”
“Grandma’s really close with the witches.”
“She is? I didn’t know that.”
“Nini saw it a long time ago!”
Inside the carriage, Nivellia sat between Aref and Soles.
“Oh! We’re matching!”
She suddenly noticed that Aref and Soles were wearing the exact same cooling scarf she had on.
“The Tower Master made these,” Soles said.
“Yeah, and it’s super cool. Isn’t it cool for you too, Nini?”
He gently took off her hat as he spoke.
Aref quietly observed every movement Soles made — so that he could do the same for Nivellia later.
With her hat off, Nivellia declared,
“We should thank the Tower Master!”
“Haha! You mean it feels nice and cool? Sounds like you’re happy with it,” Soles said, catching on quickly.
“When I meet him, I want to thank him in person,” Aref added, lightly touching the cool fabric around his neck.
“Aref, you’re the kind of child who knows how to say thank you,” Celletina said warmly.
“Even adults have a hard time doing that,” Caleo added.
Aref blushed at the praise, his cheeks turning pink.
Seeing him go red, Nivellia quickly raised her hand.
“Me too! Nini’s going to thank the Tower Master too!”
“Really?” Caleo said with a proud smile.
“Well… I’m not that thankful, but I’ll still say thanks. Because I’m the boss.”
“You should mean it when you say thank you. Thanks to him, you’re nice and cool right now.”
The carriage rolled out of the capital and toward the forest on the outskirts.
The nightmarish cottage once belonging to Azel was now completely gone.
All the buildings had been torn down, and the farmland had been cleared and leveled.
In their place stood tents of various sizes, set up across the grounds.
As soon as she stepped out of the carriage, Nivellia tried to run toward the tents.
But Aref quickly took her hand and stopped her.
“Oh…”
Soles, who had been ready to chase after her, gave a quiet nod of approval. It seemed Aref could now anticipate her moves.
“My lady, you might get hurt if you run.”
“I won’t!”
“You could. Remember what they taught us in kindergarten? Don’t run in unfamiliar places. You’re supposed to go with an adult.”
“Aref turned into such a nag…”
Even so, Nivellia stayed by his side.
Aref let out a quiet sigh of relief.
He’d been worried she might pull away and take off, but this time, she listened.
Even if she was pouting a little.
While she sulked, Soles reached over and gently placed her hat back on her head.
“You’re finally here.”
From the largest tent, Ardores and Muniel stepped out.
They were dressed much more plainly than usual.
Muniel wore a rugged work dress that looked like it had been handed down for decades, along with a worn cloak. Ardores had on a patched shirt and pants with frayed hems.
“Grandma! Grandpa!”
Nivellia shouted and bounced in place, waving both arms excitedly.
Aref’s arm, still in her grip, flailed around like a reed in the wind.
Seeing her excitement — like a cat rolling in catnip — Muniel and Ardores couldn’t help but laugh.
“Let’s go greet the Grand Witch. She’s been looking forward to meeting you,” Ardores said.
“The Grand Witch?” Soles repeated to himself.
“She’s the leader of all the witches — the one who can speak with the earth itself,” Muniel explained.
As soon as they stepped inside the tent, the rich scent of herbs and dried flowers filled the air.
Baskets and wooden boxes, full of unknown items, were stacked like walls around the interior.
Nivellia let out a small groan and tried to take off her hat again. Aref reached over and helped her remove it.
With her head uncovered, she said,
“I learned this in kindergarten! You’re not supposed to wear a hat indoors!”
“What a well-mannered young lady,”
came a voice deep and steady, like the trunk of a tree.
There were only two people inside the tent.
One was Azel, who smiled warmly at the children.
The other was a very small, elderly woman.
She was the one who had spoken — with a voice that was strong and full, belying her age.
“This is the Grand Witch, the leader of all witches,” Azel said.
“And I’m afraid we can’t share her name. That’s one of our traditions.”
“The Grand Witch is the only one who can speak with the earth,” Muniel added. “Just knowing her name alone—”
But the Grand Witch interrupted with a wry smile.
“Why are you two making it sound so dramatic? You’re laying it on a bit thick.”
Her wrinkled face carried eyes that still sparkled with life.
They were warm and bright — like sunlight filtering through the leaves of a tall forest, soft and comforting.
