Chapter 13
Ophelia looked at the ring and asked with a puzzled expression.
“Didn’t you take this ring yesterday?”
“I did.”
“You said you took it back because I wouldn’t need a ring that enhances magical affinity.”
So why are you returning it just one day later?
Understanding her unspoken question, Allei raised an eyebrow, picked up the ring from the desk, and approached her. He lowered himself slightly and reached out his hand, as if asking for hers.
Ophelia extended her hand, as she always did whenever he made such a gesture.
His hand, larger than hers by a knuckle, lightly touched her smooth skin. Then, in a voice deeper than hers by far, he spoke quietly between them.
“I erased the original enchantment and applied a new one. This should allow you to accept other forms of magic without any issues.”
“What’s the principle behind it?”
“Magical rejection usually occurs when more than two types of magic clash.”
Allei continued explaining. All living beings possess a certain amount of innate magic, and ordinary people constantly leak that magic unknowingly.
“If we can’t lift the spell currently affecting you, then preventing that magic from leaking out will stop the conflict before it starts.”
In simpler terms, it meant cutting off the natural magical flow in Ophelia’s body entirely.
Allei slowly slid the ring onto Ophelia’s finger. Once it touched her skin, the ring shrank slightly—just like it had the first time—fitting her perfectly.
“But this is only a temporary fix. If you keep it on too long, it could cause side effects, so be sure to remove it when you sleep.”
“You once said people who can’t use magic have no way of removing magic tools like this, right?”
“Generally speaking, yes. But this is an unusual case, so I altered the artifact’s properties.”
Having released Ophelia’s hand, Allei straightened up. Their eyes met in the air.
“Now only you and I can take it off. So there’s no need to worry.”
Why did his normally flat tone sound so gentle today? Perhaps it was because she could sense how much effort he had put into returning this ring to her hand.
Looking at the ring, Ophelia gave a rare smile.
“You must’ve been tired yesterday. When did you even have time to do this?”
Had he even gotten any proper sleep? For a moment, she worried about him, but this time she didn’t voice it.
“Thank you for caring.”
Because what needed to be said now wasn’t worry—but gratitude.
Upon hearing her thanks, Allei smiled in return. His golden eyes curved gently, and for once, the face that usually looked like carved marble was softened by unfamiliar warmth—a sight that surprised even Ophelia.
He replied in a voice as mellow as an early spring morning.
“You flatter me.”
Ophelia suddenly thought his face seemed a little flushed.
In the past, Ophelia and Allei had maintained a somewhat distant relationship. Still, it wasn’t as though there had been no personal connection between them.
Ophelia once believed that if she had to name anyone as a friend, it would probably be Allei.
She wasn’t sure how he had felt, but for her—especially in the lonely halls of Ronen Castle—he had been a rare place of emotional comfort.
Even so, their relationship had ended in that cool, distant way for a reason.
The first was that Ophelia, burned once by Ian, had stopped opening her heart to anyone beyond a certain point.
The second was that she simply wasn’t used to relying on others.
Both of these reasons were, in a way, her fault.
But the third and final reason was not.
It was something she learned by pure chance—a truth that changed everything.
The servants of Ronen Castle never knew exactly why Ophelia and Ian had such a poor relationship.
All they could see was Ian coldly keeping his distance while Ophelia clung to him. So they laughed and gossiped based on appearances.
The tale of the mermaid princess who died leaving only her scales behind had been a secret between Ian and Ophelia.
After all, mermaids themselves were rare and far from common knowledge, and since the two had already married, it wouldn’t benefit anyone to reveal that Ian had mistaken her identity in the first place.
So people simply assumed Ian had grown tired of Ophelia too quickly, and no one knew the real reason behind his indifference.
That included Allei—or so Ophelia had believed.
Had she not, by sheer coincidence, discovered a letter from someone named Ariel in Allei’s room…
She truly hadn’t meant to find it. She’d picked up a random book while waiting for Allei, never expecting a letter to be tucked between the pages.
Even though she knew better than to read someone else’s mail, her trembling hands unfolded the letter.
The name—Ariel—a name that had once haunted her like a nightmare, was written at the top. The paper, perhaps protected by preservation magic, looked as clean as if it had been written just yesterday. Only the triangular marks left by the fold betrayed its age.
Ophelia’s eyes devoured the words at once.
Ariel.
Even her handwriting curved vertically, just as she remembered.
“Allei. Did my bird deliver this letter properly? This might be my last message, so I hope his beak stayed dry.”
The triangular stain must have been the bird’s beak mark. That was the lightest part of the letter.
What followed described things Ophelia had never known about Ariel.
“His wedding is tomorrow. It hasn’t even been a week since you gave me legs. I’ve only known his name for a few days, and tomorrow, I’ll dissolve into seafoam. Because Ian loves someone else.”
The handwriting faltered here, the ink blotted in places—as if by tears.
“I know I shouldn’t think like this, but I can’t stop the dark thoughts. What if I hadn’t run away in fear that day? What if I’d met Ian just a little earlier? What if she didn’t exist at all? I saw her, you know, from far away. And just from a distance, I knew she was Ian’s bride. She had red hair, just like mine. That’s when I understood why you told me not to get involved with her…”
Ariel said it was a good thing she only saw Ophelia from afar. If she’d come closer and found more similarities between them, she wouldn’t have been able to endure it.
“Even though I gave up my voice to be with him, time’s slipping away. I’ve never felt this before—this must be the sadness my sisters spoke of. Thinking about tomorrow makes my cheeks wet again and again. My sisters said I’d become the sea if I became too sad… and now I think I understand. I once wondered who created the sea and why, but now I think I know. He must have been very sad too.”
Ophelia didn’t know how many times her breath had caught while reading those few inches of writing.
Was this how someone felt after opening a forbidden door? No, that woman at least had peace before opening it.
To Ophelia, this felt like having a conversation with a nightmare. Like sitting face-to-face with the monster under the bed.
“I received the sword you sent to my sisters. Since they all cut their hair, I cut mine too. Partly because I wanted to leave them something… but mostly, we sisters always copy each other.”
She wished she hadn’t read it. She wished she hadn’t learned how Ariel had died.
But she was already nearing the end of the letter.
“Allei, I’m sorry for making the deal with the mermaids meaningless. But how could I possibly stab Ian? If I had to stab someone, it would be…”
The rest of the sentence was blacked out with ink. A small mercy.
“Sorry for the rambling. I just wanted to leave a letter before I died. My bird happened to return with something you might like to know. Apparently, a mage who left the Tower over five years ago is now in Ladin. If nothing comes from the people I mentioned before, maybe check with this person.”
I hope you’re able to recover your memories.
The moment Ophelia read that last line, the door creaked open.
“…Ophelia.”
She looked up—and saw Allei, a startled expression on his face.
