Chapter 53
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Dear, I believe you may be misunderstanding.
Episode 53
Grace's anxious gaze swept across the back of her hand as she exhaled a small sigh of relief.
'Thank goodness. It's barely visible.'
The intense sunlight rendered the writing on her pale arm nearly invisible.
There was a faint shimmer, but nothing objectionable.
"M-Master!"
The man's attendant came rushing over—the very one who had been nowhere to be found moments before.
"Here, please take this medicine first. I'll bring the carriage at once. My apologies, Lady. Would you mind watching over our master for just a moment? I'll return with the carriage as quickly as I can."
The attendant called out to Grace as he hurried away.
Grace found herself with no choice but to remain at the man's side.
Glancing into the antique shop, she was relieved to see the proprietor's daughter—whom she hadn't noticed before—watching them from behind the counter.
Grace's shoulders relaxed slightly as the strange sense of unease that had gripped her eased.
"This is our first meeting, yet I've caused you considerable trouble. May I ask your name?"
"I am Grace Oellin."
"Ah, so you are a lady of Oellin House."
The man's long eyes crinkled as he offered a warm smile.
"I wonder how Marquess Oellin fares these days."
"You know my father?"
"Yes, somewhat. Your father owes us a small debt, you see."
'A debt?'
Grace found herself puzzled by his words.
Her father was a man of frugal—indeed, miserly—spending habits.
Though he spared no expense when it came to advancement and honor, he was not one to exceed his own carefully set limits.
Yet a debt?
He was the sort to place others in his debt, not the other way around.
"It's merely a trifling debt, and he pays it dutifully. You needn't worry, Miss Grace. It's a debt I shall collect from him alone, even unto death itself."
The phrasing of his words felt peculiar.
'A debt I shall collect from him alone, even unto death itself'—what an odd thing to say.
The words, delivered with such a serene smile, carried an unsettling quality.
Yet she sensed that pressing him for clarification would yield nothing.
And truthfully, she wasn't particularly curious about her father's affairs.
He smiled knowingly at Grace, who appeared to be contemplating his meaning.
"Ah, there comes the carriage. Thank you for your care. I shall repay this kindness without fail."
"There is no kindness to repay."
The man spoke firmly to Grace, who shook her head.
"No, I insist. Should you ever find yourself in need of assistance, I swear I shall grant it without hesitation. Oh, and my name is Hiess Cerviente, Lady Oellin."
The carriage drew to a halt directly before them.
As Hiess rose to his feet, he briefly brought Grace's hand to his lips before speaking.
"When next we meet, I do hope you will call me Hiess."
The man—Hiess Cerviente, that is—climbed into the carriage with quiet efficiency and waved his hand.
"Then I'll be taking my leave."
Grace watched the white two-wheeled carriage dash forcefully out of the street, and only then did something occur to her.
"...He's not coughing?"
The man who had been coughing as though at death's door hadn't let out a single hack on his way back.
In fact, by the end, his complexion had even brightened somewhat.
'What is this?'
...Was that man actually a patient at all?
* * *
"...It doesn't work."
The man, who had clenched and then opened his withered palm, murmured in an enigmatic tone.
As he gazed down at his palm, a lock of pristine white hair fell across his tilted cheek.
"Why doesn't it work on her, of all people?"
He stared beyond the window with the bewildered gaze of one truly at a loss.
Through the opaque glass, he could see Grace's retreating figure as she entered the Antique Shop.
"What is it you speak of, sir?"
Ulias, who had been waiting in the carriage like a statue, asked quietly.
Hiess's eyes continued to pursue Grace's figure until it vanished from sight.
Something had rested upon his open palm, yet the sensation of losing it slipped away in an instant.
"Hmph, how vexing."
"Sir?"
"No, that's simply how I feel."
Hiess's pupils, gleaming like glass marbles, narrowed into a long, predatory slit as he smiled faintly.
Though such an expression might have unsettled most, Ulias seated before him remained unmoved.
She had witnessed those eyes thousands of times before.
"It's strange, truly. My power doesn't work on that woman."
"You mean your ability."
"Yes, that..."
Hiess nodded slowly and leaned his body back.
Those clear, transparent violet eyes that had reflected him came to mind.
The moment their gazes met, they possessed a peculiar quality—as though one might be drawn into their depths.
'Yet why.'
Why did his power fail to take hold of her?
'She seems so easy to influence...yet why?'
Hiess Cerviente recalled those violet eyes that had gazed directly at him.
Eyes so crystalline they reflected him back instead.
'...Yet the bite marks on my fingers remain unchanged.'
Serviente.
One of the Seven Great Houses of Zeronium, though its nobility rank was not particularly high.
What they pursued was not power derived from titles, but tangible strength they could wield with their own hands.
Capital, information, things of that nature.
Together with Zenox, Black, Onium, Contana, Ginesh, and Luber, they were the families that carried the secrets of the Kingdom of Zeronum.
'The Founder's Curse.'
A portion of the current Kingdom of Zeronum encompassed the Witch's Land.
The mighty founders had coveted the Witch's Land, where pristine nature breathed freely, and seized it.
Before vanishing without a trace, the Witch laid a terrible curse upon them.
'You who have defiled my land. You are strong yet weak, and weak yet strong.'
Strong and weak.
That simple phrase transformed all seven family heads into beasts.
The seven greatest figures in this nation became monsters whenever they lost control of their emotions.
They determined that if this weakness were exposed, it would undermine the newly founded nation and render it indefensible.
Thus, the seven united to bury this truth in absolute secrecy.
Arrogant in their belief that a witch's curse could be broken within a short time, they never escaped it until their dying breath.
Had they known this vicious curse would pass down through generations, they would have returned the Witch's Land long ago.
But regret came too late, and the Witch had vanished.
Moreover, persecution of Mages began across the entire continent.
In the war between clergy who served the divine and Mages, the continent sided with the clergy.
Those called witches or sorcerers disappeared in an instant.
The few remaining users of mysterious powers faced capture and became playthings of nobility and royalty.
The Kingdom of Zeronum was no exception.
Because of this, Zeronum had to endure centuries under the curse.
Not knowing how to break it or if it could be broken at all, after hundreds of years, the curse had become one with their blood and flesh.
Each family adapted to or acquiesced to the curse in their own way.
Some families resisted stubbornly, but one thing remained certain regardless.
They lacked the power to break this curse.
"Hmm."
Whether a side effect of the curse or an unexpected blessing, the seven families each inherited different abilities.
Black possessed monstrous strength to cleave the earth, Onium possessed vision to see a thousand leagues away, Contana possessed dominion over the sea depths.
And the innate ability the Serviente Family inherited was 'Fascination.'
"I distinctly injected my venom, so why isn't it working?"
The memory of embedding his fangs into Grace Oellin's pale fingers was vivid.
When the venom extracted from his body was injected directly into another's, they became easily fascinated by Hiess Cerviente.
Fascination in name, but they became such fervent supporters they would reveal everything.
They would give Hiess everything he desired and anguish at not being able to give more.
Hiess tapped his fingers against the floor.
'...That woman's forearm definitely bore the language of witches.'
It was ancient language, known as Old Tongue.
He hadn't seen it clearly, but it was unmistakably ancient language.
'Why on earth was that inscribed on that woman's forearm?'
I caught a glimpse of it even when she bit her finger.
Wondering if it had been a mistake, I deliberately got blood on her glove to make her remove it.
And sure enough, the scar I'd seen back then was still etched into her forearm.
'There's something there. Something....'
The Black Family's prospective bride possesses something.
Lucas Black.
Given his nature, he wouldn't delay the marriage, so they'd gather soon to exchange vows.
'I'll need to investigate more carefully then.'
Hiess Cerviente gazed down at the bloodstained handkerchief clutched in his hand.
It was a plain white handkerchief without pattern or lace.
Seeing something so impeccably neat—just like that woman—soiled by his own blood stirred an odd sensation within me.
"I shall dispose of it for you."
As I continued staring at it, Ulias extended her hand.
Hiess hesitated for a moment before gripping it again.
"Never mind. I'll keep it."
It was a peculiar impulse.
I simply wanted to keep it.
For someone like Hiess who preferred cleanliness, it was strange, but Ulias offered no objection.
The carriage swiftly passed through the City District and headed toward the main estate.
* * *
"I'm sorry I'm a bit late, isn't it? Since we hadn't seen each other in so long, our conversation ran long. I hope I didn't bore you, Grace."
The moment Grace returned to the shop, Selena descended.
Julie, who had gone to find her purse, and the kind escort who had returned a lost child to its parents—all had returned at once.
As if someone had precisely timed their return to the exact moment, those who had vanished reappeared, yet I couldn't pinpoint what felt amiss.
"Not at all. It wasn't a tedious time at all."
To be precise, there hadn't been time to be bored.
"Hmm? Grace, you're missing one glove?"
The sharp-eyed Selena pointed to her bare hand and asked.
When Selena asked if something had happened, Grace briefly explained the whole sequence of events.
"My goodness...! Did something like that happen? But how was there no commotion at all?"
At Selena's bewildered murmur, Grace felt that suspicious sensation once more.
It was strange, certainly.
It was a strange feeling I couldn't quite put my finger on.
The hauntingly beautiful man and those crimson eyes flashed through my mind.
Trembling at the inexplicable sense of déjà vu, Grace forced herself to shake it off.
"Still, everything passed without incident."
"Yes. Thank goodness nothing serious happened. It's getting late, shall we head home now, Grace?"
"Did you purchase the item you were looking for, madam?"
At Grace's question, Selena smiled elegantly with satisfaction.
"Lamer."
At Selena's call, Lamer—the shop owner's daughter who had been minding the first floor—approached them carrying the wrapped package.
Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org