Chapter 19
Even though Marie was a knight from the relatively civilized West, it was hard to refuse tea offered by someone like Laila—who looked like a flower in full bloom. Anyone would struggle with that, but Marie was especially weak to beauty. Helios, being her superior, was an exception.
Laila checked Marie’s teacup and smiled like spring sunlight.
“How is it?”
Marie, swallowing her complaints, didn’t answer. A hint of concern crossed Laila’s brow.
“Hmm. Marie, does the tea not suit your taste?”
“Ah… well…”
“No, no! It’s good. See? I finished it.”
Gray lifted his empty cup in her place.
“Oh my, you really did.”
As Laila smiled, Gray’s ears turned red in delight. The sight was somewhat disgusting. Pathetic bastard. Marie cursed inwardly, but Laila only covered her mouth and smiled as if he were cute.
“Good. I was worried since you didn’t look well. Hasan makes tea much better, though…”
“That’s not it.”
Marie finally spoke honestly.
“I’m worried about both of them. The captain, of course—but the Tower Master hasn’t moved for hours either.”
“Yeah, seriously, it’s worrying.”
Gray nodded.
“It’s been hours. Honestly, what if he… you know… loses control or something? We’ve already seen enough embarrassing sides of our captain, right, Marie?”
“Gray. You’d help preserve the captain’s dignity more by just keeping your mouth shut.”
“Hey, you saw him drinking water nonstop on the way here. He must’ve been that tense… Ah, Laila, I’m not trying to disrespect Lady Enya. It’s just—the two of them… you know?”
Marie silently prayed for him to shut up, but Gray’s mouth never stopped. He even winked at Laila, acting overly familiar. He looked like a clumsy bear cub—but Laila only smiled kindly. Unlike her master, she truly seemed good-natured. Or perhaps she simply knew how to use her beauty well.
“I know about the two of them. Lady Enya values Sir Helios quite highly, so I enjoy watching them.”
“…What?”
“Huh?”
For a moment, Marie wanted to shout, What’s wrong with your eyes? Gray looked just as baffled, but Laila calmly poured more tea.
“I… am a bit disappointed, though.”
“Disappointed…? About what?”
“When you visited last time, my master gave a gift as an apology. But there’s been no response. Did he perhaps not like it?”
Laila smiled faintly, as if hurt.
“I thought he’d at least offer thanks. Something like ‘I received it well’ or ‘thank you.’”
Marie’s hand trembled slightly. Her eyes trembled even more.
I forgot.
She had delayed reporting it, expecting a cold reaction—and then completely forgot. When they left the tower that day, Helios had been too focused on Enya to even notice the gift.
This is my fault.
Feeling Gray’s stare beside her, Marie blurted out a lie.
“The captain must have forgotten to respond. Of course, the gift was delivered—and he liked it very much.”
“Ah! I knew he would. Did he say anything else?”
“…He seemed surprised.”
“Hmm. Is that all?”
Laila’s lukewarm reaction made sweat bead on Marie’s face.
What on earth was the gift?
As Marie forced a smile, Gray leaned in so close their faces nearly touched. He had already been sulking after being punished earlier—there was no way he’d miss this chance.
“Marie. What. Gift?”
“Back off.”
Gray’s gray eyes were filled with suspicion: You didn’t even give it to him, did you?
“W-Well… perhaps he’ll express the rest himself. The captain doesn’t like speaking through others, and he was… very moved…”
As Marie pushed him away and tried to explain, she suddenly shot to her feet. Her face turned pale.
Gray stood up too, determined not to be fooled, practically pressing his eyes against her temple—but when she shoved his cheek, he had no choice but to turn.
Then his face froze in shock.
“…What the hell.”
“…What are you two doing—”
“Shh.”
Laila reached out and covered Gray’s mouth before he could shout.
The girl who had seemed like a gentle flower moments ago now watched Enya and Helios with sharp, predatory eyes.
And it was quite the spectacle.
Helios had curled forward, wrapping his arms around Enya’s waist.
With large, firm hands, he gripped her sides, pulling her in as if seizing her shoulder blades, locking her into his embrace.
Enya’s cheek was crushed against his broad, solid chest. Whether she looked ridiculous or not didn’t matter—he buried his nose in her messy hair and inhaled deeply, as if savoring her scent.
There was no gap between them.
His powerful thigh pressed between her legs, as if about to wedge itself further.
Feeling it, Enya twisted her head just enough to look at him.
His eyes were still closed. Despite his actions, his expression was perfectly calm.
He’s fighting the illusion.
A wicked smile spread across her face.
He was on the verge of succumbing. He hadn’t strangled her yet—but it was close. His hand was already on her back.
One more step.
Enya looked up at him, thrilled. His brow was deeply furrowed, his eyes trembling faintly.
It felt like everything he was suppressing would explode at any moment—and that excited her too.
Just a little more.
She hugged his waist back, pressing herself fully against him.
It was a thoughtless action—but as if responding, he leaned further in, rubbing his nose against her ear. His breath was hot, ticklish.
He smelled good—far better than his personality. Despite looking rigid and severe, he carried a fresh, deep scent, like newly grown roots.
Perhaps that was why she suddenly remembered the young Helios crying. It felt strange.
“For someone like a beast, you smell nice—ah!”
She muttered under her breath, when his lips brushed her chin.
The ticklish sensation was one thing—but something else churned inside her, something she couldn’t quite define. It irritated her.
This man never left her alone, even for a moment.
“Enya…”
His low, restrained voice brushed her ear.
It was almost a breath—but she heard it clearly.
Her heart clenched for a moment.
He had always called her “Morgenda’s Tower Master”—and now he said her name?
He was definitely completely caught in the illusion.
You crazy bastard. You’ve lost.
Just imagining him calling her “Lady Enya” in submission later made her feel triumphant.
“…Haah.”
He let out a strained breath, like someone standing at the edge of a cliff. She endured it.
She wanted to see his dazed expression—but his nose and lips were pressed so close to her cheek that she couldn’t turn her head.
If she did, their lips would meet.
As she hesitated, his hand began moving upward along her shoulder, pressing down.
Instead of fear, she pressed closer.
More. Just a little more.
She was almost suffocating from the anticipation of victory.
As if sensing her intent, his fingers traced slowly along the curve of her back—up her spine, over her shoulder blade, to her shoulder.
Like lips tasting skin, his hand seemed to savor her.
Then—
His hand reached her neck.
Heat burst through her head, and she almost laughed as she opened her mouth.
The words were obvious.
I win.
“I—”
But the voice that came wasn’t hers.
It was Helios’s.
Before she could react, his hand moved—softly, unexpectedly—threading through her hair as if combing it, then gently pulling it back.
Startled, she couldn’t even resist.
Her head tilted back.
Her eyes met his.
Bright green eyes, now open.
He smiled—radiant.
“I win.”
From the moment he found the real Enya within the illusion, Helios’s mind had been gradually returning.
Unlike the others, the Enya outside the window didn’t seduce him or speak kindly. She simply stared at a gravestone with dry, empty eyes.
Yet he couldn’t look away.
As his clarity returned, a simple question arose:
Why isn’t she crying?
She looked like she might break at any moment.
The illusion sitting on his lap called out desperately:
[Helios, look at me.]
But his gaze never returned.
He pushed the illusion away, stood slowly, and walked toward the door.
The closer he got to the real Enya, the more a question built inside him.
You don’t have the right to look like you’re about to fall apart.
Wasn’t it you who destroyed your teacher and comrades?
You could have chosen another way.
You could have drawn power from monsters instead of humans.
You could have cast magic together with others.
But you chose to kill them.
It was deliberate.
And yet—you look like you’re about to cry?
Then why don’t you?
You…
“Why is it so irritating?”
By the time his reason fully returned, his hand was already on the door handle.
The illusion had asked what he wanted.
And he had answered—
The real Enya.
