Chapter 49

Nonsense.

Demius shivered as goosebumps ran up his arms, but Melissa covered her lips with her hand, her eyes wide with realization.

So that was why.

She remembered the first time she had brought Natalianne breakfast, only to be yelled at to leave immediately.

‘She’s such a delicate person.’

And she hadn’t even realized.

Melissa reflected deeply on her own insensitivity.

At that moment, Demius was nearly losing his mind from shock and jealousy.

He struggled to speak, his lips trembling.

“T-then let’s have tea, just the two of us. I get thirsty sometimes too…”

“I’ll send an entire pot of tea to your office so you can stay there forever.”

“I’m not busy!”

“Really?”

Natalianne lifted one corner of her lips.

Just then, a knight approached in a hurry and saluted sharply.

“Young Master, His Grace the Grand Duke requests your presence.”

Damn it.

Natalianne stuck out her tongue at the perfect timing of the knight’s arrival, and Demius glared at her.

‘You just wait.’

‘Do as you please.’

After exchanging glares, Demius turned to Melissa and spoke tenderly, his voice melting with affection.

“I’ll come see you soon.”

With that, Demius followed the knight down the hall.

However, his idea of ‘soon’ turned out to be much longer than expected.

As Natalianne had said, the subjugation mission had left a mountain of post-work to handle.

On top of that, the regular administrative backlog had piled up, leaving him with no time to even breathe.

Even so, Demius gave his all.

He stayed up several nights in his office, reducing a mountain of documents into hills and then into small mounds. Two days passed that way.

“Damn it.”

When he looked out the window with lifeless eyes, he saw Natalianne walking through the garden with her arm linked through Melissa’s.

That annoying fool said something, and Melissa laughed, her small, sweet lips curling in delight.

Watching them from above, Demius let out a low groan through cracked lips.

“…Strawberry cake.”

Yes, the strawberry cake.

The rare cake he had gone to great lengths to get for Melissa had vanished during that so-called girls’ night.

The thought that some of it had ended up in that fool’s stomach instead of Melissa’s made his blood boil, but when Melissa later visited and said, “It was so delicious,” every bit of his anger melted away.

Yet now, for some reason, the anger surged again and refused to fade.

His little strawberry cake and that fool were laughing together under the sun while he…

Demius stared down at the bright garden with dead eyes and finally admitted it to himself.

Yes.

This was because of sleep deprivation.

Days of relentless work had worn down even his iron body and mind, leaving him incapable of maintaining his usual composure.

Accepting that excuse, he turned back to his desk and pushed through each day, surviving on the thought of Melissa’s radiant smile.

By the fifth day, however…

“Damn it!”

Bang!

Demius snapped.

Crack.

He looked down at the wooden shards scattered across the floor and quietly bid farewell to his office desk, a venerable piece of Eisenhart furniture.

This was all that fool’s fault.

Eyes bloodshot from sleeplessness, Demius clenched his jaw.

If not for that insane sibling, he would have been sitting here right now, sharing tea and laughter with Melissa.

“Ugh.”

He pressed his palm to his forehead and shut his eyes tightly.

That damn sibling refused to leave Melissa alone.

It was the same at night.

Hoping to at least catch a glimpse of her face, he had gone to her room at dawn, but the space was empty, filled only with faint traces of her scent and warmth.

It looked like she had been gone for days.

Seeing that cold, lifeless room, Demius stood frozen for a while before quietly retreating to sleep on the sofa in his office.

This was what they called a sleepless night.

A flicker of obsession glimmered in his eyes, but he quickly shook his head.

Had he really just thought of blaming Melissa?

‘Good heavens.’

He was appalled at himself.

You fool.

Smack.

Demius slapped his own cheek.

How could he ever blame Melissa?

How dare he?

Smack, smack.

He hit himself again and again, the strikes sharp and unrestrained, until his pale cheeks flushed red.

Anyone watching would have rushed in to stop him long ago, but Demius continued his self-punishment in silence.

Only after his palm throbbed with pain did he stop.

“…Ha.”

His jaw stung, but he exhaled deeply and cursed his own blasphemous thoughts.

Damn it.

When he turned his hand over, the back was rough and scarred.

Come to think of it, he had never asked Melissa to treat that wound.

He had tried to look for her after his mother’s summons, but Natalianne had whisked her away somewhere, and he couldn’t find her all day.

Then, buried under the northern paperwork blizzard, five days had flown by.

“Is it still there?”

With a faint trace of hope, Demius looked down at his hand.

But there wasn’t even a scar left.

He healed too quickly for his own good.

He glared bitterly at his own hand.

‘Should I make another one?’

No.

He immediately rejected the thought.

If a fresh wound appeared now, days after the subjugation, it would only invite suspicion, and Natalianne would pounce on it in an instant.

Damn it.

Demius bit back the curse rising in his throat.

He glanced at the paperwork on his desk, which was finally beginning to dwindle.

“Almost done.”

He gritted his teeth and tugged at the bell cord.

While the servants cleared the broken desk and brought in a new one, Demius gathered the scattered files and returned to work at the small table in front of the sofa.

If he picked up the pace, he could finish soon enough.

‘Tonight for sure.’

Snap.

The pen snapped between his tense fingers.

* * *

At that same moment, Natalianne was in the archive with Melissa.

The warm sunlight filled the room, glinting off the soft sofa, the sweets, and the fragrant tea on the table.

If this had been the old Natalianne, she would have said, “You call this research?” and flipped the table.

But if it meant spending time with Melissa, she could endure anything.

‘I must.’

I have to keep her.

Under her dark veil, Natalianne’s eyes gleamed with obsession.

Over the past few days, she had reviewed papers with Melissa and confirmed beyond doubt that Melissa was indeed the direct disciple of Al Kidma.

The complex passages that had tormented her for years suddenly made perfect sense after a few of Melissa’s words. Even the parts of her current thesis that had stumped her completely unraveled.

Of course, an ordinary person could never have reached the point where her questions began, and Melissa’s advice had merely been a drop of water landing on the trembling surface of a cup. But to Natalianne, that drop had been everything.

She was truly the descendant and student of the great Al Kidma, her own Master.

‘Yes.’

Natalianne nodded firmly.

Melissa must not remain trapped as a mere duchess.

If she did, it would be a loss not just to the world of magic, but to all of human history.

Natalianne sipped her tea, hiding the madness flickering in her eyes as she began to devise a plan.

First, make her get a divorce.

Then, take her away to the Magic Tower.

To do that, she would have to offer something Melissa could not refuse.

If Melissa joined her, they could write the greatest thesis in the world.

No, more than that.

They could achieve a magical legacy that would shine forever in the annals of wizardry.

Natalianne allowed herself to dream of a dazzling future she had never dared to imagine before.

‘And besides…’

If she stayed by Melissa’s side long enough, perhaps, by some miracle…

Maybe she could even meet Al Kidma himself.