CHAPTER 24
“I was about to say that.”
But then, an image of Seraphine’s hurt expression suddenly flashed through his mind.
Unable to bring himself to say the rest, Metatron’s face twisted into a scowl.
“This isn’t living.”
Metatron muttered under his breath.
Seraphine immediately refuted him.
“You breathe, think, and speak with me. That means you’re alive.”
“Do you really mean that?”
Metatron never wished to live like this. He shouted furiously.
“Just kill me instead! Kill me!”
“There’s no such way.”
At Seraphine’s response, the last thread of Metatron’s sanity snapped.
“If there’s no way, then I’ll make you remember one.”
Crackle—
Electricity surged through the cross-shaped spear.
And at the same moment, Metatron lunged at Seraphine with half-crazed eyes.
“Princess. If you stood on the boundary between life and death, I bet you’d break too.”
No one could stop Metatron. His spear was about to pierce Seraphine’s throat.
“Stop.”
The moment the word left Seraphine’s mouth, Metatron froze like stone.
The spear halted just a hand’s breadth from her neck.
Between them, Icarus’s sword blocked the spear.
Seraphine stood tall and unwavering, while Metatron, glancing at the loyal Icarus beside her, contorted his face in fury.
“Lower your weapon.”
Despite his fierce expression, Metatron obeyed her command without resistance.
“What… is this…?”
Metatron was shaken.
He soon realized that, as a weapon, he could not disobey Seraphine’s orders.
It was a Word Command.
“You need to cool your head.”
Even if he begged to be killed, there was no way Seraphine could grant that wish.
She turned her back to him as if she hadn’t heard his screams.
After that, whenever Metatron came charging at her in a frenzy, Seraphine would subdue him with the Word Command.
Rebel. Subdue.
Rebel. Subdue.
In that dull and repetitive cycle, Metatron eventually had no choice but to yield to Seraphine.
And before long, he went to war.
He had to participate anyway, so he didn’t mind the fact too much.
Also, after becoming a weapon, he could use strength far beyond his original limits.
Becoming both feared and admired by everyone was an exhilarating experience.
Metatron quickly became intoxicated by his own power.
Still, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of self-loathing over his objectified existence, and his hatred for Seraphine remained.
Even after five hundred years.
‘Metatron follows my orders like a reflex, even as he grinds his teeth like he wants to kill me.’
It was like ringing a bell every time a dog was fed—eventually, the dog would salivate at just the bell.
‘The memory of being subdued by the Word Command must be deeply etched into his body.’
Noticing this, Seraphine dealt with Metatron only to the extent necessary.
And then, after Metatron caused a ruckus in the training ground that day, came the evening.
“Young Lady.”
Seraphine’s maid, Amy, approached cautiously.
“What is it?”
“It’s about the task you gave me earlier.”
After breaking off her engagement with Leonhardt, Seraphine had instructed Amy to investigate the mysterious Duke Saphiron.
“Is there progress?”
“I submitted a request to the Green Owl Guild, which is known for never failing a mission. However…”
“However?”
“They said it would take time.”
“How long? I paid them as much as they wanted, and they’re saying they need more time?”
People in this line of work usually don’t keep their clients waiting when money is involved.
When Seraphine frowned, Amy quickly added:
“Because of the nature of the person we’re looking into, it seems things aren’t going smoothly.”
That wasn’t the answer Seraphine wanted.
She furrowed her brow slightly.
“They promised to investigate thoroughly, given the extended time. They’re not only tracking his past movements but have also assigned someone to follow him recently.”
“Tell them to drop the request if it’s beyond their capabilities. Let them know I’m not a patient person.”
“Yes, understood.”
It was a firm order.
Amy nodded.
‘I had a feeling it wouldn’t be easy…’
It wasn’t urgent, so there was no need to rush.
But if she acted too relaxed, the sharp-eyed guild might start dragging its feet.
‘Now I’ll find out if their claim of completing every request is just bluff or justified confidence.’
After finishing the conversation with Amy, Seraphine went down to the dining hall.
There, she saw something strange.
‘Strawberries?’
It looked like every possible dish made with strawberries had been served on the table.
The overwhelming amount of strawberries made her feel full just looking at them.
Seraphine tilted her head.
“Ahem. Why are you just standing there staring at the food?”
Duke Rubia cleared his throat and urged her on.
His behavior felt oddly unnatural.
But seeing the rest of the family sitting normally, Seraphine took the seat beside the madam at the head of the table.
Duke Rubia felt a pang of disappointment—she usually sat far away when he sat at the head, but today, she didn’t.
Of course, he didn’t show it.
Instead, he subtly hoped his daughter would be pleased with the strawberry dishes.
But Seraphine didn’t react the way he’d hoped.
She was surprised, but not nearly as happy as he’d expected.
In truth, the strawberry feast was all Duke Rubia’s doing.
He had heard Seraphine liked strawberries and ordered the chef to prepare every possible strawberry dish.
She’d been ill recently, so he wanted her to eat something delicious.
Also, his biggest motivation had come after the madam said a few words to him.
But when the time came, he couldn’t bring himself to say that it was all his doing.
“Father.”
“Y-yes?”
Seraphine, who had been silently staring at the food without touching it, called out to him.
The startled duke stuttered.
His heart pounded, worried she had caught on to his intentions.
But the words that followed were entirely unexpected.
“I think we need to call the chef.”
“The chef? Why?”
“Joshua hates strawberries, but the table is full of them.”
Joshua, who was about to happily dig into a strawberry tart, looked confused.
“When did I say that?”
“You said you didn’t like them last time. Strawberry ca—”
“W-what are you saying?!”
Joshua abruptly shouted, cutting her off.
Strawberry candy and actual strawberries were different things, but now she was bringing up candy for some reason.
If she said he had taken her candy like a child, it would be humiliating in front of the whole family.
Panicked, Joshua rushed to speak before Seraphine could bring up the candy, rambling about how much he liked strawberries and how they were the best.
It was a ridiculous scene, especially considering how recently he had sworn to be more careful with his words.
“Joshua, watch your tone with your sister.”
Duke Rubia scolded sharply.
Only then did Joshua come to his senses and mumble, “A-anyway, that’s what I meant,” stabbing an innocent strawberry with his fork.
The conversation ceased, and everyone ate quietly.
But despite the food being prepared for Seraphine, it was Erez who was eating most enthusiastically.
‘Metatron.’
It wasn’t just Erez’s unusual behavior—there was also the distinct magical energy of a weapon.
No matter what form a weapon took, Seraphine could recognize him.
It may have looked like Erez, but inside, it was Metatron.
Seraphine had to suppress a sigh.
‘Don’t push Erez’s soul aside just to eat something tasty.’
Metatron was as selfish as ever.
Seraphine tried to ignore him as Duke Rubia spoke up.
“Your debutante is coming up. Is everything going well?”
“Oh.”
She hadn’t thought about it at all.
Debutante, marriage, leaving home.
As those words naturally floated into her mind, Seraphine replied,
“I’ve been too busy to pay any attention.”
“If you’re not feeling well, you don’t have to attend.”
“No, I will. I should look for a marriage partner at the debutante, after all.”
The moment Seraphine finished speaking, silence fell over the table like a death shroud.
And then—
Metatron, inside Erez’s body, munching on strawberry cake, blurted out obliviously:
“Marriage? Just marry me.”
