Chapter: 29
The reason a mage can work miracles is because they possess a unique mana circuit within their body.
Mana is a power that every human holds, but whether one can become a mage is determined solely by the presence or absence of this mana circuit. Even a non-mage, someone not born with a mana circuit, can, through training, learn to operate mana to a certain extent, just like the physician before her now.
“……Yes. To be born with just the right amount of mana is a stroke of luck, I suppose. There are those for whom an unmanageable amount of mana is a curse.”
Mana is the primary energy source that moves the human body, but in excess, it can also become poison.
Among them, there are those who are born with such an unnaturally high concentration of mana that they are regarded as living mana bombs, liable to explode at any moment.
The Lores. The lowest of the low in the Kairos Empire, whose very name comes from a child’s word for something hateful or unclean.
“……If you are speaking of those afflicted with mana hyperemia, might it not be possible, perhaps not now, but someday, to find a way to ease their suffering?”
The physician’s voice was low and thick with what sounded like genuine pity.
Whether such a method could ever truly be found was a secondary concern.
“You are braver than I thought. To dare utter such words, knowing full well how I might react.”
To pity or defend a Lore was one of the greatest taboos in the Kairos Empire. In the Empire, the very existence of a Lore was considered a disaster.
Above all, the current emperor, Oswald, was a fervent, deeply prejudiced ‘Lore’ discriminator. For this man to remain so composed, knowing what could happen to him if he were someone close to the Emperor, was remarkable.
“It is because I cannot see what is before my eyes.”
At his ambiguous reply, caught between jest and plain truth, Lisithea let out a small laugh.
“I suppose one can say anything when facing imminent death.”
When Lisithea retorted with a similar sentiment, the physician smiled warmly. He bowed his head in farewell and, guided by Marie, departed the ducal residence.
Left alone, Lisithea silently watched the spring blossoms being shaken loose and scattered by the changing season.
It was then.
Knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock. A series of somewhat urgent knocks echoed in succession.
“Enter.”
At Lisithea’s permission, the door opened, and she sensed a presence. Marie must have returned from seeing the physician out.
“Marie, I…”
Turning her head from her seated position, Lisithea stopped mid-sentence.
Diamid stood by the doorway, looking at her. He wore a simple robe over a long men’s tunic.
“Oh my, disappointed it’s not who you were waiting for?”
He strode over and leaned towards her, his body hovering above hers. As he drew close, she caught the scent of soap and a cool freshness, as if he had just bathed.
Drip, drip. A droplet of water clinging to the end of his hair fell onto her cheek. His fingers neared her face, as if to wipe the moistened cheek.
“What brings you here in person?”
Lisithea subtly turned her head and removed the shawl wrapped around her own shoulders to dry his damp hair. He hadn’t even properly dried his hair, and his attire was only half-put-together. It was a state one might expect in the bedchamber, but pointing it out seemed inappropriate, so Lisithea silently continued her ministrations.
Quietly accepting Lisithea’s touch, he simply lifted his eyes to look at her.
“I don’t recall ever sparing myself when it came to your affairs, so why say such a thing?”
Even with the shawl, adorned with lace edges and embroidered with vibrant floral patterns, draped over his head, he looked utterly unbothered. He resembled a figure stepping out of a classical painting.
“But you have other schedules now.”
Lisithea sighed softly and removed her hands from his head.
Ever since his engagement to the heiress of the Colline Mine was announced, his once monotonous daily routine had changed dramatically. A packed schedule was one of those changes. Today, for instance, he had physical training in the morning and an important meeting in the afternoon. Yet here he was, looking as if he had rushed out in the middle of washing up after his workout.
“Right. So you’re not completely indifferent to me after all.”
He grinned, seemingly satisfied, and pulled a chair over to sit down. From where she stood, half-leaning against the table, Lisithea’s gaze fell upon the crown of his head, still adorned with the floral shawl.
Diamid drew her hand towards him and pressed his forehead against it. His damp hair tickled the back of her hand.
“……Celia Aster came to see you.”
She had anticipated that if anyone from the Aster Marquessate were to visit her personally, it would be that girl. Celia’s presence here was not surprising at all.
But the fact that he had come to tell her this himself was a little surprising. The fact that he considered it important enough to rush over in this state…
“If you don’t want to see her, don’t. In this house, you don’t have to do anything you don’t wish to. That’s what I came to tell you.”
He lifted his head, meeting Lisithea’s gaze, and spoke in a whisper.
Almost involuntarily, Lisithea slid her fingers through his hair. The damp strands coiled between her fingers. The shawl, which had been precariously perched on his head, slipped to the floor.
“For a matter like that, I suppose I’ll need some time to think.”
“How long?”
“I wonder. Until a conclusion is reached? She’ll likely go back when she gets bored.”
At her response, which was almost a challenge, he laughed and agreed.
“I might have to prepare a guest room.”
Urged by a servant that he needed to dress for the meeting, Diamid placed a brief kiss on her forehead and left.
The spot his lips had touched carried the same scent as the damp shawl—a cool, refreshing fragrance, like entering a dense, lush forest on a summer’s day.
***
Passing the time wasn’t difficult. Lisithea spent the afternoon as she usually did, reading books and playing simple games with Marie. By the time dinner was finished, the night had grown deep.
“Is she still waiting?”
“Yes, my lady. She says she won’t leave until you agree to see her……”
“Then I suppose I should see her.”
With a soft thud, Lisithea closed her book and rose from her seat.
It was finally time to meet Celia.
Lisithea opened the door to the drawing room where Celia had been waiting.
Pacing anxiously inside, Celia spun around at the sound of the door opening.
“Sister!”
Her voice rising as she called out, Celia hurried over to her.
“Sister, are you feeling alright?”
Celia’s hand reached out to touch Lisithea.
But at that moment, Lisithea used her fan to push Celia’s hand away. She gestured towards a chair with her chin.
“Sit down. Stop being a nuisance.”
Celia’s face flushed with indignation at Lisithea’s attitude. She looked as if she wanted to retort, but instead, she simply sat down. Having been tense all day, her entire body ached. She had wanted to leave several times, but she had endured, just to get this meeting.
Celia, who had been nervously flicking her fingernails, lifted her head with a rather resolute expression.
“Everyone regrets what happened that day. Father hasn’t slept for days. It will never happen again.”
Ever since Lisithea had been carried away in Diamid’s arms, the Aster mansion had felt as somber as if they were holding a funeral. The gloomy atmosphere of the household, Father with his hollowed eyes, and the irritable Edie—it was all too much.
But what tormented Celia most was the memory of Lisithea bleeding as if she might die at any moment. That day’s memory clung to her mind, refusing to fade no matter what. There were times she truly resented Lisithea, but she had never wished her dead.
“So stop this and come back home with me. Your home is Aster, isn’t it?”
She felt that if only Lisithea would return, she might be able to forget that night spent endlessly wiping away blood that wouldn’t vanish.
“That’s what you’ll do, right? Don’t worry about Father.”
Lisithea, who had been maintaining a fairly impassive expression, finally let out a derisive laugh at the mention of ‘your home.’
Celia’s belief that place was also Lisithea’s home was almost astonishing.
“If I speak to him properly, Father will—”
“Father will what? That he won’t be angry with me if you bat your eyelashes at him?”
“When did I ever say that! Why do you always twist my words……”
“Did you really think I would be pleased if you did that?”
Where did this arrogance come from, this assumption that a favour bestowed condescendingly would be gladly received? Before Lisithea’s eyes was the result of an upbringing that had never taught frustration or surrender.
“Your father’s affection and recognition mean absolutely nothing to me. Did you truly not know that?”
Lisithea sneered, her voice icy.
If Celia was the one raised without knowing frustration or surrender, then Lisithea was the one from whom affection and recognition had been stolen. All Lisithea had learned while growing up in that house was extortion and violence. The only way to get what you wanted was to corner your opponent so they had no escape.
“And you contributed to that. Celia, are you going to pretend you didn’t know that, too?”
Celia bit her lip, her expression a mix of resentment and indignation. It was unfair and infuriating.
“Why, why are you only, only so cruel to me? If you’d shown me even half the kindness you show your maid, things wouldn’t have come to this with the family. Is it all our fault? Is it none of your fault? We tried. I tried!”
Whenever Lisithea looked at her with those cold eyes, she felt like a worm. Celia was only trying to protect herself from Lisithea.
“Do you know when Joel Spencer first approached me, going on about being an arcane artist? It was over a year ago! Even after hearing that, I didn’t tell anyone because I thought you’d be upset if you knew.”
She knew that if Lisithea, with her immense pride, ever found out, she would cut off both Joel Spencer and Celia in an instant. It was the first secret Celia, who, as Lisithea had once remarked, couldn’t keep a secret for half a day, had ever kept.
“It might not seem like much to you, but it was a first for me. Creating a secret that even Edie doesn’t know.”
It was a secret she hadn’t even told Edward, her twin with whom she shared every moment. While harbouring that secret, she even felt a sense of satisfaction, as if she had grown closer to Lisithea.
“So what? Celia, after all the nonsense you’ve spewed over the years, did you really think I’d be grateful that you managed to keep your mouth shut about just that one thing?”
“See? It’s always you who pushes me away, treating me worse than a servant. I tried so hard to get along with you, but you… you…”
Celia would linger around Lisithea, desperately trying to attract her attention, but Lisithea remained consistently cold, fully aware of her efforts. Yet Lisithea always acted as if she were the only victim. She wasn’t the only one hurt in that house; Celia was hurt by the things Lisithea said, too.
“Celia, spare me your self-pity. The reason our relationship has become irreparably broken is entirely your own doing. Have you forgotten when I stopped treating you like a person?”
Celia’s face turned deathly pale.
Lisithea reached out and grabbed Celia’s trembling chin.
“See? You do remember. So why did you act as if you’d forgotten?”
