WGMFTR | Chapter 29

Episode 29

It was the hour when the sudden commotion had settled, everything was in order, and the day had shifted into a leisurely afternoon.

“Of course, there’s no chance I’m going to the estate.”

Lydia abruptly looked up after having held up the crude gem on the necklace in her hand, watching to see if it would react to the marquis’s curse.

Contrary to her hopes, the bright yellow amber remained completely unresponsive.

“But you told Countess Rodrigo that you would consider it.”

“If I didn’t, she would nag the entire time I’m here.”

The marquis, who had handed over his pitch-blackened hand to Lydia sitting tightly next to him in the adjacent chair, still couldn’t give up leaning back in the chair and reading the report, as he spoke in a nonchalant tone and flipped to the next page.

“Is it okay to lie like that?”

“By the time she finds out I’m not going, we’ll likely have already separated, so it won’t matter.”

Of course, he wasn’t wrong, but for that assumption to hold true, the curse would have to be resolved smoothly.

Lydia sighed and set the necklace down.

She had brought it with her after getting a bit of an idea from the red-haired little girl she had seen in the disturbingly unpleasant dream from the night before, but clearly, it wasn’t the answer.

“What even is that?”

Though she had been jotting notes, glaring at her hand, or fiddling with something beside him, the marquis, who usually left her alone, finally asked the question.

“A fairy’s prank.”

Ilian Esteban waited patiently for Lydia to elaborate on this bizarre phrase that sounded like it belonged in a children’s fairy tale book, but she simply tapped on the amber and showed no intention of explaining.

“Lydia.”

Only when her name was called did Lydia realize she hadn’t said a word, and she responded with a small “Ah.”

“I mean, I’m not saying this is a fairy’s prank, but if fairies have left any tricks behind, this thing glows when it’s nearby.”

Lydia hurriedly continued before the marquis, who seemed like he had much to say, could speak.

“Of course, this curse goes far beyond a simple fairy’s prank, but still, fairies are well-known for using profound magic while also being known for just playing pranks. So I wanted to test if maybe a fairy, not a human sorcerer, was involved.”

As just confirmed, it seemed fairy magic wasn’t involved.

If—just if—the dream were assumed to be “real,” then Lydia had to ponder again what kind of being, if not a fairy, could be behind it.

“Fairies exist?”

“…Hmm. If I told you I’ve seen one myself, would you believe me?”

Seeing Lydia’s eyes sparkle with joy more than ever as she spoke about her field of interest, Ilian decided to humor her.

“If you’ve seen one, then I suppose you have.”

“One client said she was terrified because she kept hearing giggling sounds in her backyard at night, so I went to check and found a fairy. But I couldn’t communicate with it, and it just… lingered around me for a while and then suddenly disappeared as a light.”

Lydia stared quietly at the amber in her hand, then added her thoughts with a barely-there smile to conclude her story.

“I think it was more like a remnant or impression of a fairy rather than a real one.”

To be honest, from Ilian’s perspective, it was a topic he normally wouldn’t even bother to listen to.

But when Lydia sometimes detailed her personal experiences like this, the dreamy look in her eyes contained a lost passion that he couldn’t help but let be.

“You sound regretful.”

“I always do. Witnessing something that actually exists, not just traces or remnants of the past, is an incredibly precious experience.”

Stretching out and patting her shoulders, Lydia rose from her seat with a deep sigh.

“Anyway, let’s just experiment with all the things we have here today.”

“All of that?”

“Of course. Otherwise, what’s the point of bringing them all so diligently?”

At the end of Lydia’s pointing finger was a large box placed in the corner. Earlier, she and Ilian had returned to the antique shop and gathered anything that might be useful.

Although Lydia had insisted on going alone, Ilian had felt uneasy about something and had followed her in the end.

“…Inefficient.”

With that comment, Ilian really turned his attention back to the report. l

Lydia looked at him with slight dissatisfaction and then began dragging the large box from the corner with a grunt.

“…You really require a lot of help.”

At that moment, a hand suddenly reached from behind and pulled the box handle with ease.

It was such a smooth motion that it made Lydia’s effort with both hands feel futile.

“You could’ve helped me earlier.”

Lydia looked up at him with sharp eyes, and Ilyan blinked slowly and responded leisurely.

“You were acting like you could do everything by yourself from the beginning, so I was just respecting your wishes.”

“Marquis, you do know you can be really mean sometimes, right?”

It was a ridiculously shameless accusation, but not entirely wrong, so a faint chuckle escaped from Ilian.

“Ilian.”

“…What?”

Despite knowing he would regret it, Ilian blurted out impulsively.

“How long are you going to keep calling me Marquis? We’re married now. Don’t you think it’s time to change the title?”

The added remark sounded like a flimsy excuse even to himself.

“But if I call you by your name, it feels like we’re really close.”

However, Lydia frowned in distaste, which only added fuel to Ilian’s impulsive remark.

Maybe it was because something about Lydia’s casual words had rubbed him the wrong way and made him feel strangely uncomfortable.

“I call you by your name too, don’t I?”

“That’s different.”

“How is it different?”

Sensing something ominous in Ilyan’s subtle nod, Lydia tried to back away, but he had already grabbed her waist.

“Then should I just call you ‘wife’?”

Even though they were alone in the room, the words felt as if there were someone listening, and it should’ve given her goosebumps, but instead, an unfamiliar tension lingered at the close distance that nearly brushed their noses.

She felt that getting any closer now would be very, very dangerous.

“…Ilian.”

Being able to call someone by name might seem trivial, but it actually evoked a special feeling.

So Lydia tried repeating his name again.

“Ilian, I’ll call you that.”

In truth, calling each other “wife” or “dear” was far less preferable than using names.

She honestly doubted she could avoid flinching every time if she had to hear or use such titles.

“…Alright. Call me that.”

Ilian—he had heard his name from others before, so there was nothing particularly new about it.

But when it came from Lydia’s lips, it somehow seemed to symbolize the closeness they had reached, just as she had said, and stirred a strange emotion.

“Calling you like this makes me feel like I’ve actually become friends with the Marquis.”

But perhaps breaking the habit of using formal titles wasn’t easy, because Lydia immediately frowned and corrected herself.

“I mean, I feel like I’ve become friends with you, Ilian. And that feels weird.”

“Do I look like someone who has no friends?”

“It’s not like you have none.”

As Lydia said, there was one person he considered a “friend.” But since that relationship was entangled in political interests, it probably didn’t count as true intimacy in Lydia’s view.

“Let’s just say I don’t have any genuine friends.”

“Well, I only have Didi if we’re counting friends, so let’s just be each other’s friend.”

Ilian’s low laughter reverberated gently behind her.

Only then did Lydia realize Ilian was still holding her waist.

The warmth touching her back made her aware of it too late. To avoid the awkwardness, Lydia asked a question.

“Are you going to keep holding me like this all day?”

“…I don’t know why I always let your rude behavior slide.”

In truth, it wasn’t that he let it slide.

He didn’t even care.

Sometimes, Lydia’s unguarded attitude was even delightful. It felt like she was breathing new life into his world with her bubbly nature.

“That’s because I’m the only one generous enough to tolerate your highhanded manner of speaking.”

“You never back down with words.”

“Sounds like you feel guilty.”

That was just how it was. Lydia always said whatever she wanted without prioritizing his mood or being cautious.

“…I don’t truly think you’re mean. Well, maybe a little.”

Even her cautious addition, as if she had been thinking about what she’d said a while ago, was so very like her.

So, he didn’t want to let go—just a little.

That was simply the thought that came to Ilian Esteban.