CHAPTER 29
“W-What?”
“Father.”
The Duke of Rubia was sitting there.
He had dark circles under his eyes, likely from staying up all night to care for his daughter and only catching brief moments of sleep.
“You’re awake. How are you feeling?”
“Why are you here…?”
She couldn’t understand why a man who used to just throw some money her way when she was ill was now sitting by her bedside.
The Duke seemed to realize this himself and awkwardly cleared his throat.
“Is it really so surprising that a father stays with his sick daughter?”
“Did Grandmother make you do this?”
Oof.
Right on target.
The Duke subtly avoided her gaze.
He had once forced Joshua to take care of her, and now it was his turn.
“I’ve been a burden to you.”
“……”
“You don’t have to go this far anymore. I’ll be an adult soon, and if anything happens, I can just call one of the maids.”
“I…”
Before he could finish, Seraphine tugged on the bell cord.
“Did you want to say something?”
Everything happened so quickly.
He hadn’t expected her to burst into tears from joy, but he did hope she would at least look a little more pleased.
But no luck there.
Just like how only those used to eating meat enjoy it best, he thought bitterly—it was his own fault for never having casual chats with his children.
Now, unsure what to say, the Duke just sat there awkwardly.
Seraphine interpreted this as a sign of exhaustion.
“You must be so busy and haven’t even slept properly. I’m fine now, so please, go back.”
And just like that, the Duke of Rubia was dismissed.
“…?”
He hadn’t even gotten a full sentence out before he was kicked out. By the time he realized it, it was already too late.
“Out of the way.”
Madam Rubia, having rushed over as soon as she heard her granddaughter had awakened, might have let him stand there like a statue if she hadn’t looked at him with such disappointment.
Clucking her tongue at her pathetic son, she walked into the room and immediately switched to a worried expression as if nothing had happened.
“How are you feeling? I heard you just regained consciousness. Did you take your medicine?”
“Yes, I’m feeling better and I’ve taken my medicine.”
The worries poured out of her like a sudden downpour.
Thinking it might never end if she didn’t handle it, Seraphine answered calmly, and the Madam finally sighed in relief.
“The Duke of Saphiron gave you his magic. He carried you back. If he hadn’t been there… just thinking about it is terrifying.”
Her voice trembled. The Madam shut her eyes tightly, trying to suppress her anxiety.
“Just imagining it makes me shiver.”
Listening quietly, Seraphine asked again.
“The Duke of Saphiron?”
“Yes, he carried you back. At first, I wondered who the young man was, only to realize he was the Duke of Saphiron. I’d only heard rumors about him all my life—never seen his face. We were both a bit startled.”
She left out the part about nearly attacking the stranger who showed up with her granddaughter looking like a corpse.
Seraphine, guessing how shocked her grandmother must have been, searched her memories again.
“The man who helped me… was the Duke of Saphiron?”
“Yes, apparently so.”
He had helped her break off the engagement with Leonhardt, lingered near her all this time, and now had come to her aid when she was short on magic.
‘He knows who I am.’
From everything he’d done, it was clear he couldn’t have acted that way unless he knew exactly who she really was.
‘So Duke Saphiron was Icarus all along.’
“Where is he now?”
“He left after bringing you back. He said he’d come again once you recovered. He’s your savior, so we’ll need to treat him with the proper courtesy.”
More fussing followed—talk of bringing in a famous physician because the current one wasn’t trustworthy, or that she might need more medicine.
But despite all the worry, Seraphine felt much lighter than expected.
Considering how close to death she had felt before fainting, it was surprising.
‘It must be because I finally received the magic I’d been lacking.’
Part of her wanted to summon Icarus right away and question him.
But before she could, she was stuck enduring endless checkups from the physicians, only released after hearing “there’s no major problem” multiple times.
She was lying in bed, drained just from being examined, when Erez came in.
“Seraphine.”
“Yes, brother.”
“That spear—Metatron—said he had something to tell you.”
“So you’ve finally managed to have a conversation with him?”
“Well, if you can call it a conversation. It was more one-sided, but something close to it. However…”
Erez hesitated.
“Is there a problem?”
“…He’s more frivolous than I expected.”
She had guessed as much, given what happened while she was unconscious, but hearing the voice in person must have been different.
Erez, expecting something more dignified from a legendary weapon, was clearly troubled.
“You sound disappointed.”
“I won’t deny it.”
Erez sighed as if lamenting his expectations.
Noticing the change in him, Seraphine smirked playfully.
“Did you hear that, Metatron?”
“Disappointed? I’ve been this way for centuries—did you expect me to suddenly start acting noble?”
“You wouldn’t hear things like that if you’d at least maintained some dignity. Honestly, you’re worse than the humans and slaves you look down on.”
“Well, it’s not like that changes my bloodline. What does it matter?”
He hadn’t changed one bit.
Five hundred years and still no progress.
“But, princess.”
“Lady. If that’s hard to say, you can just call me by name since you and my brother share a body.”
Seraphine corrected him again.
Since she clearly wouldn’t respond otherwise, Metatron finally addressed her properly for the first time.
“Fine, Lady. Just as you ordered, I was going to catch him when I sensed his presence.”
“But you couldn’t.”
Knowing Metatron, if he had caught Icarus, he probably would’ve locked him up under the bed like a jealous maniac.
“He doesn’t even leave a trace now—doesn’t show himself at all. Where the hell has he been hiding all this time?”
Clearly annoyed, Metatron ruffled his own hair in frustration.
Erez would be the one left to untangle it later.
“Icarus.”
“……”
“So it really was him, wasn’t it?”
Metatron wasn’t the most dignified conversation partner, but still—he was someone she could ask.
If not for him, there’d be no one to confirm her suspicion.
“Well, Saphiron, or whatever he calls himself. Sure, he’s got a noble title, but anyone could tell he’s the same slave as before.”
Seeing Seraphine’s expression, Metatron muttered with a hint of jealousy.
“You didn’t even look that happy when you met me.”
“If you’d done something worth being happy about, maybe I would have.”
“Me? Why should I?”
“Exactly why it’s hopeless.”
It was obvious he was thinking, You want me, the great Metatron, to do something just to make you happy?
Seraphine shook her head in exasperation.
“But…”
Metatron opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again.
“But?”
He recalled Icarus cradling Seraphine in his arms.
Those eyes—just as blind with devotion as ever.
The only problem was… they looked just like the eyes he had when he started a rebellion after Seraphine’s pointless death.
Metatron had been about to mention that—but didn’t.
“No, it just reminded me again why they say never to take in a black-haired beast.”
“Icarus isn’t black-haired. And he’s not a beast. So nothing about that saying applies.”
Just as Metatron opened his mouth to protest—
Knock knock.
A knock came at the door.
“Young Lady, may I come in?”
Seraphine gave Metatron a look.
He mimed zipping his lips.
“Come in.”
“The Duke of Saphiron has come to see you, Young Lady. Shall I show him to the drawing room?”
She had expected this to happen, yet her mind still went blank.
“Where is he now?”
“He just arrived. If you permit it, I’ll guide him to the drawing room.”
“Right now.”
“Pardon?”
“I’ll go right now.”
“Young Lady!”
Before the maid could stop her, Seraphine bolted out the door. Metatron clicked his tongue as he watched her go.
“Even royalty treat their knights like an extension of their body, but not with that much affection. No wonder he’s got false hopes.”
Unaware of the remark, Seraphine—still in her nightgown—rushed out without thinking.
Her heart was pounding.
Then she froze before going down the stairs.
Below, stood a man with unfamiliar black hair, his back turned to her.
No way…
The Icarus she remembered had blond hair.
Before fainting, all she had clearly seen were his deep blue eyes.
Her heart sank.
The higher the expectations, the greater the disappointment.
“Seraphine! What are you doing up when you’re not even well yet?”
The first to spot her was the Duke of Rubia.
Only then did the man—clumsily holding a bouquet nearly his own size—turn around.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Her cold, abandoned heart began to beat again.
The moment their eyes met, she knew.
It was Icarus.
