Chapter 35

Chapter 35

James nodded absently at Rose’s anxious words.

“Right. Even knowing you’re famous, you still worked as a spiritualist in Romberton.”

“Mythosi hate using magic to make money off Logosi! They’d never suspect it!”

Rose pressed her palm to her chest in frustration, voicing her fear.

“Rumors might spread before the ship even docks. Oh no… ‘Rose is back,’ ‘But she’s not alone,’ ‘Isn’t she with a Logos?’ or something like that.”

“Excellent performance. Truly worthy of Romberton’s top necromancer.”

“Even on the carriage ride from the harbor to my house, the driver might talk to us! ‘Aren’t you the young lady of the Stellania estate!’ like that!”

James watched her theatrical anxiety with interest but dismissed it as needless worry.

Sure, Hilsey Island was a holy ground for Mythosi with a large Mythos population, and yes, Rose might be well-known—after all, she was close to Minister of Land and Development Crowley, so her family clearly had power. Still, he thought she was overreacting.

But once the ship safely docked, James was forced to admit he’d misjudged the situation.

People began gathering at the pier the moment the Dautryche Company ship arrived.

It wasn’t just curiosity about the company’s new steamer; their eyes weren’t on the ship at all but fixed on the two disembarking passengers, especially Rose.

“Rose. Surely all of them aren’t Mythosi?”

“Not all… but maybe nine out of ten.”

She had already used magic to change her hair and eye color, but even so she fidgeted, covering the sides of her face with both hands.

“I told you people would gather.”

“Maybe they’re just curious about Dautryche’s new steamship.”

Fortunately, no one came right up to them. They kept their distance, observing with wary eyes.

But Rose’s alertness was high enough to pierce the sky three times over.

James lightly tapped her hunched back.

“Stand up straight, hold your head high. The more you try to hide, the more you’ll draw attention and suspicion. You changed your hair and eye color too. How about performing the way you did as a spiritualist?”

Rose slowly lowered her hands from her face and lifted her chin, forcing herself to look confident.

‘Like when I played Olga Blavatsky. Just do it like that.’

She adopted a haughty expression, repeating to herself over and over:

‘I am Olga Blavatsky. All these people are just customers here for necromancy…’

James watched with satisfaction.

“Much better.”

“Oh, please. Thank you.”

Wearing the business smile she’d perfected as a spiritualist, Rose finally stepped down the gangplank, setting foot on her home island of Hilsey for the first time in five years.

Whether it was her acting or the magic disguises, Rose’s worries turned out to be only half true.

No one approached to speak to them directly, nor did anyone whisper loudly enough to be heard up close.

But even so, as they walked to the company’s carriage waiting at the harbor, James could still catch snatches of distant muttering: “Stellania’s young lady,” “I hear she’s not even Mythos anymore.”

‘Hilsey Island really does have a different vibe than the mainland.’

When they finally reached their hotel in the commercial district, James left the company staff behind and set off with Rose to visit her family estate.

They had chosen not to use a conspicuous Dautryche Company carriage. Instead, they hired a local rental carriage, hoping to avoid attention—a choice that quickly backfired.

The moment the driver heard their destination, he peered at Rose’s face with excitement.

“Oh my! Excuse me, but aren’t you Miss Rose?”

Rose froze, eyes wide. The driver practically bounced in his seat, delighted.

“Even if you changed your hair and eyes, I’d recognize you anywhere! It’s been ages, Miss! My grandfather used to serve your family, you know—”

James cut him off before the man could finish, pressing a gold coin into his palm.

“That’s enough. Quiet now.”

The driver’s mouth snapped shut instantly.

There it was—the universal power of gold that silenced both Mythosi and Logosi alike.

They completed the rest of the journey in strained, purchased silence.

The Stellania estate lay at the far northwestern tip of Hilsey Island.

James examined it as they arrived.

“…It’s more… historical than I expected.”

The house was nothing like the grand mansions of Romberton or Linden.

Instead, it was a modest three-story standalone building with a steep, black, spire-like roof, dark-toned exterior walls, and a winding, rusted iron gate.

If one wanted to be polite, they could call it “classical”; more honestly, it looked like the setting for a Gothic horror novel.

Rose glanced over her shoulder and sighed.

“You can say it’s old-fashioned. It really is ancient.”

James, who’d tried to be tactful, watched as she moved to push open the iron gate.

The hinges squealed with a spine-chilling creak, heightening the gloomy atmosphere.

Caw! Caw!

A flock of crows burst from a nearby tree, flapping frantically into the gray sky.

It was exactly the sort of scene that would serve as the perfect opening to a ghost story.

And in that moment, Rose felt exactly like a protagonist forced to enter a haunted house she’d rather avoid.

After all, she’d run away without leaving even a note five years ago.

She had no idea what would happen once the door opened.

Taking a deep breath, she faced the pitch-black front door and knocked carefully.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A single crow on a magnolia tree by the entrance cawed at them, but no sound came from inside.

Rose raised her hand to knock again—

The door creaked open just slightly, scraping with an unsettling wooden groan.

A shadowy figure stood in the dim gap—a gaunt old man with deeply etched wrinkles like ancient bark.

Rose recognized him instantly.

“Uh, hi, George. Sorry. I’m home.”

Seeing how much older he looked in just five years made her voice catch with guilt and emotion.

George’s eyes went comically wide. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly for a moment.

“George? Are you okay?”

“A-Annis! Get out here! Come see who’s here!”

His voice, suddenly loud enough to make Rose jump, carried into the dark interior.

“Miss Rose has come home!”

And so, after five long years, Rose was reunited with George the butler and Annis the old nursemaid of the Stellania estate.

“Oh my Lady Rose! I thought I’d be in my coffin before I saw you again!”

“Let me see you—oh heavens! You’re nothing but skin and bones! My poor baby rabbit turned into a scrawny donkey… what hardship you must have faced!”

They clung to Rose, rubbing their cheeks against hers and covering her in kisses, unable to hold back their joy.

What followed didn’t even need describing.

Rose apologized like a criminal, crying along with them until the room was filled with sobs.

Only after they had settled on the drawing-room sofa did Rose realize James was still outside.

She jumped up in horror, rushing for the door, only to slip and crash to the floor—a slightly less predictable note in the otherwise obvious reunion script.

And so James experienced, quite literally, what it was to be turned away at the door.

He also got his first taste of the stern, suspicious stares of the Mythos-born, who had grown up on this island.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you out like that.”

“Rose. Enough apologizing. I actually found it… an interesting experience.”

“No, really. Truly. I’m so, so sorry…”

James simply smiled wryly, tasting the biting astringency of the tea they’d given him.

It was far too strong, almost an attack rather than a drink fit for a guest.

‘Such open hostility. Islander wariness mixed with Mythos pride…’

But really, it was simpler than that.

They didn’t care who he was, even if he was the head of the Dautryche Company.

To them, he was just another Logos—well, technically a Revis now, but still an outsider.

And he was the strange young man who had returned with the family’s runaway daughter after five years.