WGMFTR | Chapter 30

Episode 30

Still, knowing he couldn’t hold onto Lydia forever, he reluctantly let go of her arm, concealing his regret, and Lydia immediately bent down to check the contents of the box.

“Are you sure these items are safe?”

“Well, I’m not exactly sure what kind of magic is cast on some of them.”

Though she said that, there was no hesitation at all in the hand calmly rummaging through the box.

Ilian, knowing that Lydia disliked interference in things she was confident about, still couldn’t shake the urge to warn her to be careful again.

But Lydia seemed far too absorbed in her task to spare any attention for his inner struggle.

“But that’s just a way of saying it, really, they’re fine. At least, they’re not dangerous. I just can’t identify exactly what type of magic they are, but I do know the general purpose of each.”

“Oh, this one’s totally unrelated, and so is this… That one should be put away,” Lydia murmured repeatedly to herself, full of energy.

Unable to find a place for his now empty hands, Ilian awkwardly laid them on the armrest and quietly resumed watching Lydia.

“Shall I hold your hand?”

Lydia, bending so far over she looked about to fall into the box, turned back to him suddenly with dust in her hair and asked out of the blue.

It was a surprisingly quick response, different from her usual demeanor when deeply focused.

“It’s fine.”

Ilian tried to hide his hand, but Lydia grabbed it firmly.

More precisely, she placed her hand gently over the back of his.

“I told you to let me know if it hurts.”

Lydia had become much more natural with this kind of contact.

To be exact, she feared Ilian might collapse again if she neglected checking his condition even for a moment, so whenever he appeared, she’d instinctively reach for his hand.

“It’ll be inconvenient you try to search like this.”

“It’s okay, really. Nothing’s too heavy.”

Ilian quietly looked down at the small, pale hand resting on his, then turned his own hand over and gently held hers. It was small enough to fit entirely in his grasp.

Though soft, it wasn’t without its marks—calluses from holding a pen and blotches of ink stains revealed a hand that was unmistakably hers.

“Besides, if I lose balance or look like I might get hurt, you’ll stop me, right?”

It was an incredibly natural display of trust. Though he had no intention of letting go, Ilian muttered a retort.

“I’m not that nice.”

“Then let’s say it’s loyalty between friends and business partners, not kindness.”

Lydia picked up a music box, almost opening it, but barely stopped herself in time.

“Ah. I shouldn’t have brought this. You must never open it. Got it? Especially the staff—they mustn’t touch it.”

“Will someone die if they do?”

“Do you think I’d leave something around that could kill a person?”

A look of mixed reproach, as if asking how he could think she’d live with such cold cruelty, crossed her face.

“No one dies, but it guarantees a deep sleep. The problem is, you can’t wake up until the music box is closed again. And anyone who tries to close it also falls asleep, continuing the cycle.”

“That kind of magic isn’t exactly useful.”

It made him wonder why she hadn’t dispelled such magic.

“Just in case. Wouldn’t it be useful against an assassin if you play it with earplugs in?”

Listening to her clutch the music box to her chest and speak so earnestly, he could only conclude—she truly had a unique mindset.

“More like, you just didn’t want to erase the magic. If it’s not absolutely necessary to get rid of, you’d rather keep it.”

Lydia smiled awkwardly at the marquis who, glancing around at the mess on the floor, stated what she couldn’t deny.

“I’m not a real mage, so I can’t help it. If it’s not truly dangerous or troublesome, I want to preserve the magic even if it’s basically meaningless.”

“You might get hurt.”

“Like I said, there’s nothing that could hurt anyone. And you’re the one making me think negatively.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being cautious.”

Feeling the conversation veer into unnecessary territory, Ilian turned his attention back to the report.

But stopping Lydia from speaking wasn’t an option.

“…Still, I think it’s best to help when a request comes in and I can do something. I can handle it, so I want everyone else to live peacefully and happily without getting involved in trouble.”

Ilian was about to correct her tone and the way she addressed him, when a memory surfaced—something about her parents having died in an accident.

‘A fire broke out in the building, and they died while trying to help others escape, didn’t they?’

Though the case report didn’t confirm the details, everything Lydia said seemed to align with the truth.

He suddenly tightened his fingers, fully interlacing them with hers.

Perhaps thinking the same thing, a sorrowful smile passed over Lydia’s lips.

Yet she didn’t let go. Instead, she placed her other hand on top of his, as if seeking comfort.

***

As soon as the sun set, Lydia stood up with determination.

Something had to be done for their comfort while sleeping. One night of Ilian sleeping awkwardly in a chair was enough.

“It’d be weird if a newlywed couple used separate rooms on the second night, right?”

“Yeah, it would.”

Lydia, now in more comfortable clothes, sighed as she watched Ilian still buried in paperwork, then got up from the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Preparing a countermeasure to secure our own spaces.”

Ilian let out a hollow laugh as he watched Lydia carry every cushion in the room to the bed and start stacking them to build a wall.

“You want to divide the bed like that.”

“It’s reasonable. With a boundary, I use this side, and you use that side. Okay? So please don’t sleep all crumpled up in that chair again. It makes me feel guilty.”

Lydia proudly dusted off her hands after building her little wall of cushions.

Ilian, seeing how it looked like the cushions might collapse any moment, was about to comment but held his tongue upon seeing how satisfied she looked.

“Should’ve done this yesterday. Can’t believe I didn’t think of it.”

But seeing Lydia lean against the bed and seriously start reading a book, he couldn’t help but speak up.

“I’m uncomfortable sleeping with someone else.”

“That’s why there’s a wall.”

“You can’t really call that a wall.”

“Just lie down. Maybe it’ll be better than you think.”

Her stubbornness was truly something. Ilian glanced at the report about the Lescal Archipelago, then closed his tired eyes and pressed his eyelids.

There was definitely something suspicious about Katrina not staying at Esteban Mansion even after coming to the capital.

It was hard to uncover, but she was hiding something.

Even though she was now Countess Rodrigo, she was extremely thorough in hiding the most important information, as if afraid someone would say she wasn’t from Esteban.

“Is something wrong?”

Feeling the bed shift to one side, Lydia looked up and asked.

She couldn’t ignore the complex emotions on Ilian’s face.

He let out a long sigh and leaned back like Lydia, mumbling.

“The Lescal Archipelago. It’s true that Count Rodrigo was injured and has been reclusive, but it’s strange that my sister isn’t by his side and instead is going around every merchant guild in the capital.”

“So it wasn’t just for the wedding.”

“No. I had someone follow her, but she noticed right away.”

At that, Lydia lifted her head from the book, resting her chin on her hand, and stared at Ilian.

“Why not just ask her?”

“Ask what?”

“What the problem is.”

Her attitude, as if the most obvious solution had just been handed to him, left Ilian speechless for a moment.

“She wouldn’t give a straight answer.”

“You never know until you try.”

Lydia even looked like she thought the problem was already solved, as she reopened the book.

“The marquis tends to overthink things sometimes.”

After a pause, Lydia added calmly, as if remembering something she forgot.

“I mean you, Ilian.”

“Don’t you think you’re the one who oversimplifies things?”

“Maybe she’s waiting, deep down, hoping you’ll ask. She might not want to burden her younger brother, but still need help.”

Ilian and Katrina both relied on each other in their own way, but due to their independent personalities, they rarely interfered in each other’s lives beyond necessary advice. That was just the way they lived.