MLFIOH | Chapter 16

Episode 16

Leandros had disappeared one day without warning.

As far as I know, there were no special conditions involved.

But our circumstances are different, aren’t they? Leandros crossed over with his entire body. I only came as a soul…

Yeorae had assumed all along that only her body in the other world was subject to the “conditions.”

But now that she thought about it, she essentially had two bodies.

What if this one was the condition instead?

As soon as she was alone, Yeorae took out a pin and poked her fingertip.

Tiny crimson droplets welled up from the barely visible wound.

No… I can’t do this…

Clutching her bleeding hand, Yeorae winced bitterly.

It was just a pinprick, but the pain was so vivid.

Dying—especially not for the sake of this body’s original owner—just wasn’t an option.

Out in the garden, where a gentle breeze blew at regular intervals, Yeorae and Sylas let out deep, simultaneous sighs.

What now?!

Sylas glared at her sharply.

“P-pollen…”

Yorae stammered, sniffing to make an excuse.

His sharp gaze slowly, reluctantly left her.

With Lilian and Archer’s arrival, the mansion gradually began to fill with people from the Blancmir Trading Company.

Even in broad daylight, as guests walked around, Sylas insisted on dressing half-naked, claiming summer had arrived.

Yeorae was used to it by now, but she still felt embarrassed every time the guild members reacted with shock upon seeing him.

“This isn’t it, either.”

Sylas had already torn and discarded two canvases, his hands blackened with charcoal dust—proof of his hours of frustration.

Yeorae pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and handed it to him.

Even the bridge of his nose was streaked with charcoal.

“How about trying something else to clear your mind, rather than painting? I heard you’re quite good at horseback riding.”

“I’m not that good. My little brother’s the real horseman.”

“Well, the Duke is a knight, after all. But you’re not, sir. If people say you’re skilled, I think there must be a reason.”

“…You think so?”

A smile tugged at the corner of Sylas’s lips.

Sometimes this man’s thoughts were so transparent, Yeorae felt like she could see all the way through them.

“Then I’ll show you next time. For now, I’ve already taken out a new canvas, so I might as well paint something. What should I draw?”

“Hmm… A pile of scrap metal flying across the blue sky? Or a glowing glass bead that shines on its own?”

“…What?”

“Human imagination has no limits, you know.”

Yeorae shrugged as she answered.

Sylas, staring at a rose petal that had landed on her shoulder, suddenly and randomly held out his brush.

“Then you paint something.”

“What?!”

Startled, Yeorae jumped back. Her voice even came out with an unfamiliar metallic rasp.

“Sir, I really can’t paint. I’ve never learned. The only arts I’ve ever dabbled in were piano when I was a kid and a bit of self-taught guitar!”

“I didn’t say you had to be good. I’m just curious how vivid your imagination really is.”

Sylas flicked the brush at her, urging her to take it.

After a long hesitation, she couldn’t withstand the pressure and accepted it with trembling hands.

“Go on, paint something.”

His interest in the blank canvas was intense.

Ugh, what should I draw?

It felt like standing at the chalkboard, solving a math problem while the teacher watched.

Feeling overwhelmed by his attention, Yorae hastily began sketching whatever she could see.

Sylas squinted and leaned in close.

“Hey… What the hell are you drawing?”

“A horse, grazing over there.”

“…A horse?”

He stared at the lines on the canvas for a while. Then, spotting what looked vaguely like a four-legged creature, he burst into laughter.

“This is a horse?! Aha! Your imagination is incredible!”

Sure. Laugh it up.

Sylas’s face burned.

‘I told you I’ve never learned to draw…’

When Sylas began clapping and declaring it brilliant, Yeorae glared at him with dagger eyes.

These brothers really did have a talent for making people want to hit them.

Sylas had vowed to keep the horse drawing as a family heirloom.

Yeorae barely managed to talk him out of it and seized the first opportunity during her night shift to dispose of it.

His obnoxious laughter still echoed unpleasantly in her ears.

She swore—on her life—never to pick up a brush in front of that man again.

Afterward, as usual, she walked the dim corridors with an old candlestick in hand.

At first, she’d hated these night shifts because she was so tired.

But now, they felt like peaceful evening strolls.

A brief time when she could take off the “Hazel” mask.

But as she turned a corner, she ran into someone she didn’t expect.

“….”

Snow-white hair shimmered under the moonlight like falling snowflakes.

At the far end of the hall, a woman was crouched down, hurriedly picking something up from the floor.

Her full, trembling lips suggested she was in distress.

Yeorae was about to call out—then bit her tongue.

She’d nearly said Lilian.

“Young Lady?”

Startled, Lilian jumped to her feet.

Shards of glass slipped from her skirt, clattering to the floor.

Yeorae saw the puddle and scattered petals at her feet and quickly realized what had happened.

A vase had fallen from the decorative shelf and shattered.

“I-I didn’t mean to. I was just… trying to look at the stars outside the window, and it slipped.”

Lilian’s shoulders trembled with anxiety. She looked so small, so fragile.

And for that reason, so endearing.

Though they had barely exchanged a word before, Yeorae suddenly felt like she could do anything to protect her.

Leandros may have turned cold and harsh, but he wasn’t the type to scold someone over a broken vase…

Yeorae set her candlestick down on the empty shelf and brushed the glass shards off Lilian’s skirt.

“I’ll take care of this. Please go rest, my lady.”

“B-but… I should help…”

“This is my job. If you help, I’ll get in trouble.”

“…Oh.”

Lilian hesitated, her hands fluttering in the air, but soon realized it wasn’t her place.

She quietly gathered the scattered flowers and placed them by the candlestick.

“I’m sorry. Really.”

Even as she left, she looked back several times.

In the novel, Sylas had once called Lilian “a pushover of a girl.”

Yeorae had agreed wholeheartedly.

“Ow…”

Red droplets splattered onto the marble floor, blooming like crimson flowers.

She’d cut her right palm.

Yeorae quickly pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it against the wound. It was deeper than expected—the cloth soaked through quickly.

Still using her uninjured hand, she diligently picked up the remaining shards.

When she heard unfamiliar footsteps approaching from behind, she sped up.

At first, she thought she’d crossed paths with a guard.

But no.

The footsteps slowed… and finally stopped right beside her.

Slowly turning her head, Yeorae saw polished black shoes come into view.

Her body froze.

A soft halo of silver moonlight shimmered over her stunned face.

The shoes remained still for a long time before nudging one of the glass shards toward her.

Yeorae’s head snapped up.

But Leandros had already turned away.
He was walking down the same path Lilian had taken.

Th-that was…