Chapter 31 : First Date (4)
‘But how can I trust that woman?’
They hadn’t known each other for long, nor did they understand each other in detail.
When Frederick had boasted at the restaurant about knowing Aracila well, Damian had nothing to say. Every piece of information that came out of Frederick’s mouth was something he was hearing for the first time.
Why should he trust a woman he barely knew and reveal his vulnerabilities just to soothe her feelings?
‘Does that justify hurting the other person, Damian?’
In that moment, Aracila’s words from the carriage slashed through him sharply. Her large, clear eyes had been just as unwavering as the words she had spoken.
Ah, so that’s why.
Now, he vaguely understood why he had been feeling uneasy.
Even though he neither knew her well nor trusted her, he had still hurt her because of him. And because of that, he wanted to make amends.
For the first time, someone else’s emotions had taken precedence over his own.
“What do you think I should have done, Isaac?”
Having fully acknowledged his mistake, Damian humbly sought Isaac’s advice.
“Pardon? Oh, uh, well. Normally, you would have gotten off the carriage and followed her. But you didn’t, did you, Captain? When a woman tells you to get lost, you’re not actually supposed to leave. Even now, you should go find her and apologize until she forgives you.”
For Isaac, there was no such thing as a “right time” to apologize. If you did something wrong, you had to apologize immediately. That was his belief.
Accepting his subordinate’s words, Damian set down his sword and left the training ground. His steps were quick and urgent.
Aracila, too, had not returned home.
The more she thought about it, the more infuriated she became, and she didn’t want to go straight back. If she ran into Damian now, she might just unleash a magic attack on him.
‘We both suffer the same losses from a divorce, yet he acts however he pleases.’
Recalling what had happened at the Vandermir estate recently only deepened her fury. After all, someone had suffered in that house because of him!
Gritting her teeth, she made up her mind. Fine, she would do as she pleased, too.
Originally, she had planned to visit a social club with Damian after their boat ride. But now, she entered boldly—alone. She intended to go through the entire date course on her own, just to make a statement.
“Lady Vandermir, what brings you here? I never expected to see you in a place like this.”
“Indeed. I’ve never seen her at a social club in my life.”
“She never showed up even when she was single, so where’s her husband? Why is she here alone?”
As soon as Aracila appeared, murmurs spread among the club’s attendees. Noblewomen of her age watched her with keen interest.
The eccentric mage who had become Lady Vandermir sat confidently at a large table alone and ordered tea, unfazed by the attention.
Did she have company? If so, was it Damian Vandermir?
Since their marriage, the newlyweds had been too busy to make social appearances together, making this an opportunity for high society to finally see them together. Many gazes carried a sense of anticipation.
However, even as time passed, Damian did not appear.
And Aracila, sitting upright and sipping her tea, did not give the impression that she was expecting anyone.
Who comes to a social club just to sit alone?
Realizing that she had truly arrived without company, people let out impressed sighs of disbelief.
“She’s still as peculiar as ever, even after marriage.”
“I don’t get how she ended up in a love marriage with Lord Vandermir.”
Aracila had been ignoring the whispers, but she suddenly paused.
“No matter how much they call her the Tower Master, she’s still just a woman in the end.”
Hearing the sneering voice, she turned her head. A group of three or four men, their faces flushed with drink, sat gathered. Several bottles of alcohol littered the table.
Drinking was allowed in the club, so their intoxication wasn’t the issue. The problem was that they were too drunk to recognize their limits.
This was how most incidents happened.
“See? No need to treat a female mage like she’s something special. Just look at how quickly she snatched up the Duke’s second son in marriage.”
“She probably realized she’d never become the Tower Master, so she went for a profitable marriage instead.”
“My friend works at the Tower. Word is she’s going to resign soon. Apparently, even her peers have started shunning her for falling for a mere knight.”
A burst of laughter erupted. Aracila calmly glanced between the teapot on the table and her own hand.
She was calculating which object would be better for smashing their heads in.
Hmm, she wasn’t sure. She might as well use both.
“When she was acting all high and mighty, she didn’t mind being ignored. But I wonder if she really sold herself for a high price. I hear the Duke’s eldest son is the more promising heir anyway.”
The man who spoke the loudest oozed malice and jealousy. Judging by his tone, he had probably tried to speak to Aracila once before and been rejected.
Aracila quietly picked up the teapot and rose from her seat. She didn’t even need to walk over; she could just hurl it at them with magic.
“Honestly, aside from her looks, she has nothing going for—”
Splash!
A cascade of liquor poured over the man’s head. He flailed, sputtering in shock.
The other men at the table froze as they turned to see who had done it.
Sleek silver hair, strikingly well-defined features, and piercing golden eyes gleaming with menace.
It was Damian Vandermir.
“Why leave out the face? It’s said to be a gift from the gods.”
Holding the man’s shoulder firmly, Damian poured out the rest of the bottle over him, ensuring he was thoroughly drenched.
His expression was cold enough to instantly sober any drunkard.
“And for the record, I’m the one who was sold for a high price. So watch your mouth, young master.”
Bang! He slammed the empty bottle onto the table and tightened his grip on the man’s shoulder.
The pressure was enough to make him groan and writhe in pain.
“L-Lord Vandermir, p-please, your hand—”
“I can’t pull out your reckless little tongue, so deal with it.”
His chilling warning made the man shut his mouth, his face turning red as he endured the pain. His companions shrank back, unsure what to do.
Just then, a shadow loomed over the man who had boasted about his friend at the Tower.
“Young master.”
At the clear, ringing voice, he turned his head—and nearly had a heart attack.
Aracila stood there, her expression murderous.
“I don’t know who your friend is, but I guarantee they wouldn’t even dare look me in the eye. So stop bragging about them.”
She smiled, watching him gape wordlessly.
“You seem just as pathetic as your friend. Ah, or were you already pathetic to begin with?”
“…!”
Her smile vanished as she spoke quietly.
“I never had ‘peers’ in the Tower. I entered years ahead of others my age, competing with people much older than me.”
That was how she had earned four stars—an achievement beyond even those twice her age.
“So anyone my age is already beneath me. Understand?”
She flicked a small flame onto his drink. Seeing the fire flare up, he nodded frantically in terror.
“And as for not becoming the Tower Master, I’ve just completed another successful research project. While your friend is probably scrubbing my lab floors.”
Aracila made eye contact with each man in turn, ensuring they got the message. Finally, she looked at Damian.
He hesitated.
For someone who had boldly intervened before she could, he now seemed strangely… sheepish.
“Damian, let’s go.”
It was a shame she hadn’t cracked anyone’s skull, but the loudest of them already looked half-broken.
Satisfied, Aracila gave him a look, and Damian, as if tossing away trash, released the man’s shoulder and followed her.
As the club quieted in their wake, someone murmured,
“They really are a perfect match.”
The outside had grown dark before they knew it.
Aracila walked silently along the main road, and Damian followed without a word.
They had been walking for a while, keeping about three steps between them, when she suddenly stopped in her tracks. Caught off guard, Damian halted just as abruptly.
They were on Sunset Bridge, with a clear view of the Nelly River, bathed in a deep red glow.
“How did you know I was at the social club?”
“…I heard you hadn’t returned home, so I searched around and eventually found out.”
“So you didn’t go straight home after we parted either?”
“No, I went to the training grounds.”
The conversation broke off there. In the awkward silence, Damian hesitated before finally speaking again.
“I misspoke earlier.”
“And you made a mistake as well.”
“Yes, I did. I sincerely apologize, my lady.”
Still facing away from him, she did not turn around. Yet Damian bowed his head respectfully toward her small, unmoving back.
“What must I do for you to forgive me?”
“Shout ‘I’m sorry’ three times here.”
Her pale fingers pointed toward the riverbank.
Damian was taken aback by the unexpected demand. When he hesitated, remaining still, she spoke again, her voice carrying a slight pout.
“You’re not really that sorry, are you? You think it’s fine to treat me that way.”
“Absolutely not.”
He could swear it—never once had he considered Aracila someone he could treat lightly. He may have thought she was crazy at times, but he had never believed he could handle her carelessly.
Yet, even he was only now realizing this himself. So it was no wonder that she had felt otherwise.
“Go on, then. Shout it three times. If you do, I’ll believe you. Because unlike someone, I believe my husband should be someone I can trust.”
With things put that way, Damian had no choice but to comply.
Resolutely, he stepped toward the bridge’s railing.
He took a deep breath and braced his stomach muscles, preparing himself.
Pffft.
A small chuckle broke the silence.
Pffhahaha.
The suppressed laughter quickly spilled over into full-blown amusement.
“Damian, were you really going to do it?”
Aracila spun around, her face brimming with barely contained laughter. Her white rabbit-like teeth peeked out as her lips curved into a bright, teasing smile.
Damian stared at her, momentarily dazed, before eventually letting out a sigh, followed by a wry smile.
He had been played.
“You fool. Do you think I’m a child? As if that would actually make me feel better.”
“…Ha. Do you enjoy making a fool out of people?”
“Yes. It’s incredibly fun.”
Still grinning, Aracila leaned against the railing beside him, her hands resting lightly on the cool metal. The open expanse of the river stretched before them.
A crisp evening breeze passed between them, carrying away the tension that had lingered just moments before.
Gazing down at the golden ripples scattered across the river’s surface, Damian suddenly spoke.
“You once said people always called you strange when you were young. I was always called insane.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
