Chapter 93

Anyway, Clidane’s story went like this.

He was glad to have become a knight, but his first assignment wasn’t monster subjugation or directly assisting someone from the Karnian line—it was escort duty for a merchant caravan. Naturally, Clidane was more than a little disappointed.

“Of course, I now know how pathetic I was back then. Please think of it as the arrogance of a newly appointed rookie.”

“I get it, so just keep going.”

“Yes, ma’am…”

As a result, he started slacking off in training, which led to bad attitude, which made the senior knights ride him harder. That stress led to drinking, which led to hangovers and skipping training, which led to even more scolding.  

A vicious cycle.  

Once someone falls into a negative loop like that, even knowing it’s wrong, it’s hard to break free. Add self-loathing to the mix for not being able to fix it, and you get a total mess.  

Clidane even considered quitting the knights entirely.

But while forcing himself to push through—recalling his training days and why he became a knight in the first place—he happened to meet Cynthia, the daughter of a small merchant who did business with the Karnian Trading Company.

“Unlike me, she was always praised for her work ethic. But her demeanor… or maybe it was just the look in her eyes. It was so dark, I couldn’t help but notice her.”

Clidane probably didn’t realize it back then, but to us listening now, it was obvious.

It was empathy. 

And empathy, when nurtured, tends to bloom into soft, warm feelings surprisingly easily.

I found the whole thing amusing.

‘Looks like my sister might’ve picked the wrong guy for me.’

Even if she framed it as a bit of fun or a gift, there was clearly some intention to use Clidane as a “replacement” for Esadien to help ease my feelings. After all, the only reason I’d fallen for Esadien in the first place was his looks.

But strangely enough, I didn’t feel a single flicker of excitement or affection toward Clidane.  

Not even a speck.  

Not even a sugar-grain-sized crumb.  

It wasn’t about whether he’d made a move on me or not—this was entirely my own emotional response.

‘So I guess it wasn’t just about his looks.’

While I belatedly pondered why I had really liked Esadien, Clidane’s story progressed, unsurprisingly, into something rosy.

Just as he’d begun noticing Cynthia, she had begun to take an interest in him too.  

As their meetings grew more frequent, Clidane eventually resolved to become someone she could be proud of—and completely turned his life around.

He quit drinking, accepted his past mistakes, stopped rebelling against the senior knights, and began approaching all his training with sincerity.

“I’m only where I am today because of Cynthia.”

The look on his face as he said that absolutely radiated joy.  

It was the same expression he had when he mentioned his precious person before.

It was easy to guess now—that person who had dreamed of becoming a mage was Cynthia.

Positive energy may seem weaker than sorrow or gloom, but when you look back, it spreads shockingly fast.  

Just look at how Clidane changed—and how Cynthia’s demeanor gradually brightened too.

Except for one thing: whenever the topic of family came up, Cynthia would grow even darker.

“She told me that even though she’s happy when she’s with me, she questions whether she deserves that happiness.”

Clidane’s face darkened too, as if he were becoming Cynthia while recounting her words.

“It turns out she had a younger sibling. But when they came to Roquate during the New Year Festival as children… she lost them.”

“Ah…”

Finally—I understood why Clidane had been so shocked when he saw Palos.

‘Feels like we’ve come full circle.’

The New Year Festival in Roquate was famous for its overwhelming crowds, to the point where “a sea of people” was no exaggeration. It wasn’t uncommon for families to lose children in the chaos.

Roquate, being a city from before the unification of the Preseria Empire, had never been properly planned. With population growth, makeshift homes had sprung up even beyond the original city walls, leading later generations to build an outer wall. In that confusion, finding a lost child would’ve been nearly impossible.

“Their parents were working, and also wanted to let the kids enjoy the festival. While the parents went to see a business contact, Cynthia was left to watch her sibling…”

“She probably got pushed by the crowd and lost their hand, right?”

Things like that happened often even in old Korea.

I could understand Cynthia’s guilt over losing her precious sibling, but I didn’t think it was really her fault.

“Leaving a kid in charge of another kid? That’s nonsense. Cynthia herself was still a child—she should’ve been cared for, not made the caretaker. Don’t you think?”

As I clicked my tongue in sympathy, I felt several odd gazes fall on me.  

It was like they were silently thinking, “Wait, that’s how you interpret this? That’s your thought process?” 

I frowned.

“What? Why’re you all looking at me like that?”

“It’s not wrong or anything. It’s just… your way of thinking is a bit unusual,” Ramande said.

Clidane nodded, tilting his head thoughtfully.

“I don’t have siblings myself, but usually the younger one is left in the care of the elder, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t grow up in that kind of environment. I can’t even picture my sisters carrying me around.”

I gave a half-shrug and a dry chuckle.

_‘Whether or not your thoughts are valid, or whether someone else’s are better—most people will just expect you to fall in line with the norm. Usually without even realizing they’re being forceful.’

It’s not that I like the nobility system, but in moments like this, being the daughter of a duke has its perks—I don’t have to listen to anyone insisting their way is right and mine is wrong.

“Anyway, I’m not here to rehash a tragedy that’s long past. I just wish Cynthia didn’t have to be so crushed by something that wasn’t even her fault.”

“Yes… I feel the same. That’s why, when I saw Palos—who looks so much like Cynthia—I truly felt like I’d met a savior…”

Clidane trailed off with a tormented look, as if picturing Cynthia’s sorrow.

‘Ah, to be in love…’

To feel someone else’s pain so deeply… Honestly, the two of them seemed like they’d end up together just fine.

“You really do love Miss Cynthia, don’t you, Sir Olce?”

“Huh? Ah…”

Surprised by his own expression, Clidane looked up and then turned red upon seeing my smile.

“I’m sorry, my lady.”

“Huh? What for?”

“Before I was appointed as your escort knight, I was told I resemble your fiancé, the prince.”

“…Did my sister really say that?”

“Ah, no. The trade master only told me that whatever I experience by your side, I must keep it secret for life. I-I mean, I must absolutely maintain confidentiality.”

With the way he said that, it almost sounded like some kind of slave contract. Just what did my mother think I was going to do to him?

I gave Clidane a suspicious glare. He chuckled.

“My liege is a fair person. She never gives unjust orders. And if anyone gets hurt in the line of duty, she takes full responsibility.”

To have earned that kind of trust… My mother really is something.

‘That means I don’t have to be quite so guarded around him anymore.’

Since we were practically glued together, it had been hard to bring up anything about Gabbie or Esadien.  

But if he was this loyal, I could probably trust him more going forward.

Putting on my best smile—a sweet one passed down by the High Priestess herself—I said, “I hope things work out between you and Cynthia, Sir Olce. Right, Ramande?”

Receiving my gaze, Ramande replied with his usual priestly smile.

“Of course. In the name of Plendena, goddess of love and beauty.”

“And could you ask Miss Cynthia about her sibling’s age and appearance at the time of their disappearance? I’ll have the director of the orphanage Palos grew up to check it out.”

“You two…”

Clidane looked deeply moved.

“Thank you. Truly, thank you.”

“You don’t even know the results yet.”

But he thanked us again and again anyway. Ramande had to soothe him for quite a while before he finally left the room.

‘Ah. Wait. If Sir Olce leaves…’

That leaves just me and Ramande.

I bit my lip subtly and glanced at him.  

He was quietly looking down at his plate.  

I raised my teacup to hide my face too.

An awkward silence followed.

“Ramande, you know…”

“Hey, Minuelle…”

We both spoke at once.

The awkwardness vanished instantly. We smiled sheepishly, and the atmosphere softened as Ramande said: “You first.”

“Okay.”

I didn’t hesitate. I accepted his offer naturally.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry, Ramande.”

“Sorry…?”

The blood drained from Ramande’s face. I wasn’t sure how he’d taken that. I’d never seen him so startled, so I quickly grabbed his arm.

“For yelling at you over Esadien.”

“……”

“Even after you explained things—after I realized that, in your position, I might’ve done the same—it didn’t matter. I was just too overwhelmed by what I felt to see straight.”

Every time something like this happens, I feel it again.

My body might be grown, even older if you count the years from my previous life, but my heart…

Still just a child.

When I was a kid, the student-teachers always seemed so adult.  

The sisters I first met when I woke up as ten-year-old Minuelle—they were about my current age. But they’d seemed so mature.

Meanwhile, I still feel like a kid pretending to be an adult.

“Gabbie said something. That it was just me getting upset—that you were fine, and I was the only one hurt. That I was the one sulking.”

And not just that—I was stubborn and acted unreasonably, too.

“I thought we were being distant lately, but that’s probably because you were trying to give me space, right?”

Looking back, the day I turned away from Esadien was the same.

Seeing him with Lapheche made my blood boil. And sure, given his track record, it was understandable.

But even after I cooled down—even when he apologized in every way he could—I didn’t forgive him.

“I’m sorry, Ramande. Even if we’re close friends, I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

Looking back now, I was deeply ashamed of myself.