112.

And with that, Norma began murmuring words of love as if he hadn’t expected any response from me.

“I love you. I love you.”

His voice sounded like the sweet murmurs of someone lost in a pleasant dream, but it felt like an incantation aimed squarely at me.

I closed my eyes and let myself be drawn into his spell willingly.

The night air, cooler now that the heat of the day had waned, was pleasant. Feeling his warmth, his voice, and the weight of his body against mine, I briefly considered saying ‘I love you’ back to him.

There wasn’t any profound reason—just that whenever Norma spoke of love, he seemed so genuinely happy, so full of joy, so utterly content.

I parted my lips impulsively, but when it came time to speak, the words stuck in my throat.

“How did you know you loved me?”

I asked instead, mirroring his declarations of love with a question.

“How did I know I loved you?”

I still found it difficult to say the word ‘love’ out loud, but Norma answered without hesitation, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Because whatever I do, you’re all I think about, and I always want to see you. But I don’t know when it started.”

“You wanted to see me?”

“Yes. Even now, I want to see you,” he whispered, his voice soft and almost pained, as if it was a need too great to bear.

I thought back to the day he’d fallen into the pond on the far side of this lake. I’d spent that entire day wanting to see him, trailing after him like a stalker.

Had it started then?

But was it only that day? I realized I’d often felt the same way before then—wanting to see him, needing his presence. Suddenly, I understood what he meant about not knowing when it had begun. My mouth went dry.

When had it started? It was impossible to say. No wonder I hadn’t seen it coming.

Silence fell between us, broken only by the sound of our breathing. After a long pause, I finally spoke, struggling to put my jumbled thoughts into words.

“…I know I’m a mess.”

I wasn’t even sure where I was going with this. It just felt like I needed to clear something up before I could articulate the tangled emotions swirling inside me.

“My personality is cold and prickly. I can be selfish and cruel if it means protecting my family. Even I know I’m unremarkable despite having no flaws in appearance. My only redeeming quality as a potential partner is my bloodline.”

“…”

“So, my point is, most people, regardless of gender, tend to avoid me—”

As I rambled, Norma, who had been clinging to my stomach, lifted his head. Our eyes met, and I froze. His gaze was clear and steady, free of any drunken haze. The words I’d been about to say evaporated from my mind.

Norma picked up where I left off.

“Of course, I love your name, Aisa, and I love that you are McFoy. But among the many reasons I’m utterly captivated by you are your courage, your unyielding resolve, and the strength with which you bear the weight of your position.”

He seemed to have reframed my flaws into virtues, though they weren’t exactly the kind of ideal qualities one might expect—kindness, cheerfulness, loveliness, and the like.

“I’ll never meet another person who can roar as fiercely as you. It was so remarkable that it woke me up,” he added with a sincerity that made me feel oddly self-conscious.

“…Your tastes are strange,” I muttered.

It almost sounded like he was teasing me, but the intensity in his gaze left no doubt about how serious he was.

“To be fair, I died once when I was fifteen. Ophelia defied the natural order to hold on to this life of mine,” I said, revealing a secret past I rarely shared.

Norma’s face lit up in surprise, and he responded lightly. “Something similar happened to me when I was twenty-three. Nicholas held on to me.”

I’d expected an awkward attempt at comfort, not a story of shared experience. Then again, Norma Diazi had a life as tumultuous as mine.

“…But you didn’t actually die, did you?”

“My body was shattered, and half of my soul was torn apart. It was close enough.”

“That’s a vague way to put it.”

“Let’s just say it’s complicated,” I said, feeling a faint smile tug at my lips.

“More accurately… I wasn’t alive or dead. I was somewhere in between, on the edge,” Norma murmured, his voice steady despite the unsettling nature of his words.

“Is it possible to be neither alive nor dead?”

“For me, it was. Until the fragments of what had broken were pieced back together, that’s how it felt,” he explained, his tone eerily calm.

His words sent a strange shiver down my spine. It was an eerie, disquieting story that made me feel an inexplicable unease. Belatedly, I realized I might have dredged up painful memories for him.

“I brought up something unpleasant. I’m sorry.”

“If it’s you asking, I’ll tell you anything,” he replied, sincerity shining in his voice.

“…I’ll try to do the same,” I said, my pronunciation faltering slightly. It wasn’t perfect, but I thought I’d managed to reciprocate his sentiment well enough. Progress, considering it used to happen once in a hundred tries—now it was one in thirty.

“I’m happy, Aisa,” he said, his face lighting up with a mixture of surprise and joy. The expression made me feel an odd sense of pride.

…But wait, when did he get so close?

I suddenly realized that the man who had been clinging to my waist was now practically draped over my entire body. He moved with the silent stealth of a predator, and despite his usual gentle demeanor, there were moments when he exuded a dangerous energy.

Trapping me between his arms, Norma gazed down at me with an intense look. Behind him, the full moon shone brilliantly, illuminating his figure. For a moment, I was struck by how he seemed to gather all the light in the world to himself.

“I’m going to live a long life,” I declared suddenly.

It was an abrupt proclamation, but to me, it felt like a pivotal moment.

I wasn’t an optimistic person, nor was I lucky. Fortune had never favored me, so I’d always prepared for the worst.

But perhaps it was because, as Lady Seymour had said, today was a good day. My confidence brimmed uncontrollably, buoyed by an inexplicable certainty.

Norma, gazing at me as though I were the most precious thing in the world, leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek.

“Yes. Please live a long, long life with me.”

“I will. But are you sure you’ll stick to me for all that time? As you know, I’m neither forgiving nor tolerant of broken promises, so choose your words carefully now.”

“If there’s such a thing as a next life, I’d stay by your side in that one too. So, perhaps you should be the one choosing carefully,” he teased.

“No, the rumors about the ‘Witch of the West’ being ruthless aren’t just hearsay. They’re fact,” I countered.

“And people say the Diazis are obsessively relentless. I suppose they’re right,” he replied with a grin that made a chill run down my spine. I had seen their fervor firsthand during our courtship and marriage.

As I nervously darted my eyes away, he chuckled softly, as if reading my mind.

“But it’s too late now. You’re stuck with me for this life and the next, for all eternity,” he declared before leaning in closer.

His lips brushed against mine, a silent question awaiting my answer. And though I knew what his kiss implied, my instincts overruled my hesitation. My eyes fluttered shut, and his lips pressed against mine firmly, lingering longer than before.

The kiss deepened, turning languid and deliberate. As his tongue slid against mine, he whispered words of love between breaths, his voice soft and reverent. Overwhelmed, I broke into laughter, pulling away briefly.

“Norma, wait—just a moment!”

His attempt to kiss me again was met with a quick but gentle push. The flicker of disappointment in his eyes almost made me laugh again, but I had something I needed to say.

“About saying that I… love you,” I began hesitantly.

“…?”

“I can’t say it yet.”

“I see,” he replied, his voice low and calm, though his faintly wistful smile tugged at my chest.

“Don’t misunderstand me. It’s not that I don’t feel it. It’s just… the word feels strange to say out loud. Do you understand what I mean?” I added quickly.

His lips twitched upward in a smile he couldn’t suppress, his emotions dancing across his face—relief, joy, even a touch of amusement.

“Yes, Aisa,” he said softly.

Squinting at him, I muttered, “…So you’ve known how I felt all along, haven’t you? Is that why you’ve seemed so annoyingly pleased with yourself lately?”

Norma’s grin widened, and he nodded without hesitation, his honesty disarming me.

What an infuriating man. And yet, in that moment, he looked unbearably beautiful. He always had been, but tonight he was especially so.

The dark sky, the shimmering stars, and the man at the center of it all—it was a breathtakingly beautiful scene.

Before I realized it, my hand reached out, gently brushing his cheek and running through his soft hair. Norma’s lashes fluttered as though the touch tickled, and I found myself speaking without thought.

“I think… I might be able to say it soon. I’ll make sure you won’t have to wait too long—hey! Let me finish my sentence!”

Norma, pressing kisses to my words at every pause, earned a playful glare from me.

“Yes,” he replied, still grinning. His answers were always so quick.

“…I know I must look so awkward in your eyes. You seem so composed, while I’m still like this. I can’t say when I’ll feel comfortable, but—”

I sighed, blaming the met and the strangely charged atmosphere for loosening my tongue.

“Is that something you’ve been worried about?” he asked, his expression softening.

“It’s just… Lately, even just meeting your eyes or brushing against you makes me feel unsure of what to do. Even now, I don’t know what I’m saying or where to look.”

“Aisa, I… I feel the same,” Norma confessed earnestly, his face turning a deep shade of red.

I frowned, skepticism creeping in. “Liar. Someone who feels like that doesn’t act the way you do at night.”

Norma’s flustered stammering was abruptly silenced as I grabbed his collar and kissed him. It wasn’t until our lips met that I realized it was the first time I’d initiated a kiss.

An unexpected wave of nervousness washed over me, leaving me stiff and uncertain. But Norma, as if spurred on by my boldness, responded with fervent enthusiasm.

From there, things escalated quickly. The little rowboat swayed precariously, but I barely noticed as he trailed kisses down to the hollow of my collarbone, his tongue tracing erratic patterns against my skin.

His hands, rough but deliberate, gripped my waist, and the sharp sound of a seam tearing echoed across the quiet lake.

I didn’t know how long I’d been holding my breath, but when we finally broke apart, both of us exhaled shakily in unison.