Episode 107
“Are you familiar with this place?”
“I suppose Yvonne doesn’t know it well.”
Yvonne found Yurian’s teasing tone annoying. Yet, whenever their eyes met and he smiled, she couldn’t actually get mad. He truly seemed excited.
“Do you know what kind of festival this is?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of festival is it?”
Yvonne planned to make up some excuse and part ways with him. All her important belongings were stored in her bracelet anyway, including a dagger. It was a shame to leave behind a few things at the inn, but it wasn’t a huge loss.
“Just… a festival.”
She had intended to lie, but after looking around, she realized she had no idea what kind of festival it was.
“Stop smiling.”
When Yurian covered his mouth with his large hand, as if to stifle his laugh, Yvonne couldn’t help but scoff.
“Why are you like this?”
“Because I’m weak when it comes to you.”
“This is what you call weak? And I told you, you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
“There’s no way I wouldn’t recognize Yvonne. Even if I went blind, I could never forget this scent.”
Yvonne didn’t believe him. She wasn’t wearing any perfume. She also knew she had magic, but a unique scent? That was nonsense. She wasn’t a Guide, nor did she possess such abilities. If anything, she could have an auxiliary ability that amplified others, but still—
“You’re the liar here, Yurian.”
“I never lie to Yvonne. I have no reason to, and I never will.”
“…”
“But I do want you to know—I can change into whatever Yvonne wants me to be.”
“…Changing yourself for someone else? That’s foolish.”
Despite saying that, Yvonne felt a pang in her chest. She remembered how much she had tried to mold herself to match Marquez. Even in this situation, she was only growing more certain—she had never truly loved him. And that made her feel even guiltier.
“There are times when you have to change, even if you don’t want to.”
“…”
“If Yvonne desires it, I’ll become anything.”
Yvonne felt like his words had struck her directly.
She had changed while being with Marquez, but it wasn’t because she wanted to. She had discarded parts of herself just to fit into his world.
Now, she finally understood why she had never truly loved him. How could it be love when she had lost herself in the process?
What started out as responsibility had never once brought her joy.
“If you keep doing that, you might forget who you really are.”
“If I can change that completely, wouldn’t that be ideal?”
“…It’s not worth it.”
“It is, to me.”
Yurian spoke casually as he reached for her hand. He watched carefully—was she going to pull away? Did she dislike it?
She didn’t resist.
So, he clasped her hand.
“Now that I’m holding your hand, I’m even more certain.”
“…”
“This small hand… I missed it so much.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you into men, Yurian?”
“If Yvonne were a man, then yes.”
She realized she was getting drawn into his pace again and quickly shut her mouth.
“Let’s just go see the festival.”
“Alright.”
Yvonne avoided looking at him as he smiled brightly.
Because the warmth in her chest—
It made her uneasy.
“En First Island is a volcanic island. Not long ago, there was an eruption. This festival honors the heroes who prevented disaster.”
“…”
“You probably already knew that. I was being presumptuous.”
“No… It’s nice hearing it again.”
She answered as she followed where he led.
Unlike the outskirts where the inn was located, the festival atmosphere was overwhelming in the center of the village.
The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the market stalls, the beautiful fountain, and the many children playing around.
“There are a lot of kids.”
“Do you dislike children?”
“I wouldn’t say I like them.”
Yvonne never instinctively liked children. Perhaps it was because of the misunderstanding with Hildebrandt that had stemmed from a child. Though she couldn’t remember it and had been hypnotized to never recall it.
“They seem to be making flower crowns over there.”
“I’m not interested.”
“But I am.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be trying to impress me?”
“Listening to everything you say isn’t the way to impress you.”
Yvonne found his words absurd yet oddly compelling. He spoke nonsense, yet she didn’t hate it. In fact, the way he left so much room for rebuttal made her feel oddly reassured. Besides, it didn’t seem like he would mind even if she chastised him.
“Then how exactly do you plan to impress me and change yourself?”
“Follow me.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Then keep following me a little longer. It reassures me.”
Yvonne thought she was maintaining the perfect disguise as a man. But in reality, to anyone looking, she was clearly a woman. She had forgotten that men had noticeable Adam’s apples, so she wasn’t even wearing a scarf.
Yurian didn’t find it particularly strange that she had dyed her hair black. He only felt a little regretful—her once radiant appearance had faded, and he wished she would return to it. And since this change was likely because of him, it bothered him.
The market stretched on with rows of makeshift festival stalls covered in colorful fabric. They were crude but lively.
Since arriving here, Yvonne had never mingled with commoners. Back at the imperial palace, Hildebrandt hadn’t explicitly restricted her movements, but he made it clear that he disliked her wandering far. And after her arranged marriage with Marquez, she had spent all her time socializing with nobles to secure her place.
Even during their travels by ship, where she had briefly seen people of various backgrounds, she had never spoken to them—Marquez’s severe seasickness had prevented any conversation.
She realized her world had been painfully small.
“Yvonne.”
“Yes?”
“I can’t quite read your expression right now. Can you tell me how you’re feeling?”
Yvonne found it strange that he was trying to understand her emotions. Marquez had always forced his own interpretations onto her feelings. But Yurian was different. With him, she felt like she could be a little more selfish.
“Regret. And sorrow.”
“What do you regret, and why are you sad? Do you hate making flower crowns that much?”
“I regret how small my world has been until now. And I feel sad thinking about broken relationships.”
“Do you want to mend them?”
“No. I know they can’t be fixed.”
She was saying it as much for herself as for him, as if to soothe herself.
“That sounds like a resolution.”
“It is.”
Yurian found himself smiling again without realizing it.
“This way, please, customer!”
To lighten her mood, he led her to a flower crown stall.
“Make one with four-leaf clovers and hydrangeas, please.”
He didn’t actually know what flowers she liked best. But in the palace, these were the ones she often used.
“Do you have a favorite flower?”
“No. I hate flowers. They’re useless.”
She said that, but she didn’t actually dislike the purple hydrangeas Yurian had chosen. It was just that their strong fragrance reminded her of Hildebrandt, making her feel uneasy.
The two watched in silence as the florist skillfully twisted and wove the flowers together. The artisan worked quickly, as if making flower crowns was the easiest thing in the world.
“Here you go, sir!”
Yurian handed over the payment.
“Keep the change.”
“Thank you!”
Holding the hydrangea and four-leaf clover crown in one hand, Yurian turned to Yvonne. She immediately noticed the subtle look in his eyes, silently urging her to remove her hood.
She already knew she would take it off eventually, but she didn’t want to give in so easily.
“You should wear one too, Yurian.”
“Will you wear yours if I do?”
“Yes.”
“Alright.”
“Then make him one with roses.”
“What color would you like, sir?” the florist asked.
“Red.”
At her request, the florist pulled out several red roses from a basket and wove them together even more quickly than before.
“Why roses?”
“Because they match your eyes.”
“I’m pleased. You’ve been looking at them carefully.”
“You’re quite the optimist, Yurian.”
“I never used to be. But being around Yvonne makes me that way.”
Strangely enough, she didn’t dislike his words.
“Here you go!”
The florist finished the crown in no time, and Yurian swiftly paid.
“Keep the change for this one too.”
Yvonne realized her hood was pointless now and finally pushed it back.
“May I put it on for you first?”
“Go ahead.”
Yurian gently placed the hydrangea crown on her head.
—And in an instant, her hair flowed down, returning to its original platinum color, cascading past her waist.
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