Chapter 85 – The Person You Reach For
Meisel had ordered a gorgeous reddish-pink dress from Kuter, but it was too heavy.
‘He’s not really going to stand me up, right?’
Even though her hope was fading, she clung to it. The festival hadn’t ended yet, so there was still time. If she gave up and went back now, and he arrived afterward, it would be too unfair.
She wiped the sweat off her forehead under her hood and snapped at the maid following behind her.
“Why are you so slow?”
The maid, distracted by a nearby stall, hurried to catch up.
“Sorry, my lady.”
“Go buy me a cold juice!” Meisel ordered, pointing to the stall with a long line of customers.
“Yes, right away!” the maid replied and ran off to join the line.
‘She’ll take forever to come back with just one drink,’ Meisel muttered, annoyed. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves, which only made her more irritated.
‘Meanwhile, I’m wasting my time looking for someone who might not even come.’
As she grumbled and glared at passing couples, someone suddenly spoke to her.
“My lady, may I interest you in a fine necklace?”
A hooded peddler held out a necklace.
“What? I don’t want it.”
But the man didn’t retreat.
“It contains a lucky stone that can help you achieve your wishes. A rare, one-of-a-kind piece.”
Meisel almost dismissed it outright, but when she glanced at it, the small stone did glow with a soft yellow light—unusually convincing for a fake.
She waved her hand to refuse, but the man suddenly grabbed her shoulder.
“Let go!”
When she looked into his eyes, she froze. They were a vivid golden-yellow, tinged with orange and streaked with red, like blood or molten gold. His presence was strange and unsettling.
“…Why should I trust a street peddler’s junk?” she demanded.
The man chuckled softly.
“I am no mere peddler, my lady. You could call me a shaman.”
“A shaman? You mean a fortune-teller?”
In the Empire, the word “shaman” had disappeared. The few who remained in the border mountains were considered little more than scam artists.
He didn’t seem offended, only amused.
“Call it what you will. Shamans can glimpse the future.”
“And this necklace really works?”
“That depends.”
When she reached for it, he pulled it back.
“Magic only works if you truly believe. If you wear it with a sincere heart, it will hold great power. If you doubt it, it’s nothing but a stone.”
“Then why me?”
His pupils narrowed vertically, like a beast’s.
“Because your desperate heart called me here. There’s a man whose affection you want to win, isn’t there?”
Her lemon-yellow eyes clouded over, then cleared.
“…How do you know that?”
“My god sees all things.”
“…God?”
“So. Do you want it or not? Just say the word.”
Dazed, Meisel whispered, “I want it.”
“Good.”
He fastened the necklace around her neck, smiling.
“For you, my lady, it’s a gift.”
At that moment, her maid called out, breathless, holding a cup of juice. When Meisel turned back—the man was gone.
‘Where did he go?’
She touched her neck. The necklace was still there. It wasn’t a dream. Strangely, her body felt hot, and her mind hazy.
“Are you alright, my lady? Your face is red,” the maid fussed.
“I’m fine,” Meisel muttered, snatching the juice and drinking it down in one go.
‘No matter what, I came this far. I have to meet the Duke.’
The highlight of the festival was the famous music fountain. At the stroke of the hour, water jets soared into the sky, glittering under the lights as they danced in rhythm with music.
“Wow!” the crowd gasped. Even Tiern, who hated mages, muttered, “Well… it’s worth seeing.”
Almost everyone had rushed to the lakeside, leaving the shops and streets quiet.
“Are you cold?” Loic asked, standing beside me, shielding me from the wind.
“No, it’s perfect.”
The mist from the fountain carried to the terrace, cool and refreshing. His sharp eyes glanced at me, worried I might not be enjoying myself. His neat black hair was tousled by the wind.
“Bend down a little,” I said.
Without question, he leaned closer. I gently fixed his messy bangs. He still wore gloves under his robe, even though he knew they couldn’t block the curse on his body. He had only worn them for my sake.
The thought made my eyes sting. I tugged his hood up over his head.
“A-Annette?”
Pulling on the hood drew his face closer.
“Loic, let’s go down.”
“Now? But—”
“It’s fine. Just trust me.”
Still bewildered, he let me tug him along. From the room, Tiern and the others stared in shock.
“We’ll go alone,” I said firmly. Too many people would draw attention. Tiern frowned, then met Loic’s gaze and stayed behind.
Outside, the knights at the entrance started to follow but froze at Loic’s silent signal.
The streets, lit brightly, were nearly empty as everyone else was by the lake. It felt like the path had been cleared just for us.
“During the fountain show, it’s quiet here. We can take a look around,” I whispered.
After a few steps, Loic stopped suddenly. When I turned, he was staring at me under the glow of the fountain lights. His face was bare of shadows now, his expression hard to read. He seemed short of breath, maybe anxious.
“Is something wrong? Do you feel uncomfortable?”
His throat moved as he swallowed. I remembered his words: ‘I’ve never liked being touched.’
“Should we just go back?” I asked, letting go of his robe.
“No.”
He caught my wrist, slipped off one glove, and clasped my hand firmly in his bare one.
“It’s better to hold hands. We might lose each other.”
“R-Right…”
I wanted to ask why he had to take off the glove, but before I could, he led me forward, holding my hand gently but securely.
