Chapter 18

“Sniff sniff… Why not~?”

The coachman pretended to cry. Normally, Heidi would have thought it was just his usual silliness, but now that she knew his true identity, the act only seemed irritating.

“Aurum is dangerous. And I can only protect one person. If we go, I can’t guarantee your safety.”

It was a polite but firm refusal. Heidi thought Ber looked more reliable than ever. A worker who could step in to protect his master at the right time—she had one more reason to keep him close.

“Ah, so that’s the problem! Don’t worry. I can handle myself just fine.”

The coachman answered confidently.

“Is that so? Words alone aren’t enough. Safety is not something to take lightly. Can you prove your strength?”

“Of course!”

“Don’t show me—show the boss. She’s the one who decides.”

The moment Ber said that, the coachman pulled something from his pocket and handed it to Heidi. It was a red card, small enough to fit in her palm.

She blinked and read the writing on it.

**“Pell Flan, Department Head, Geography and Survey Division, Magic Research Bureau.

• Certified member of the Mage Tower. (Signed, the Tower Master)”**

…Ha. So I was right. He’s someone powerful.

Heidi sighed inwardly.

A 6th-circle mage… That was someone strong enough to wipe out an entire small town by himself. And if he was a researcher in the Mage Tower, he must also be wealthy.

Someone like that could crush a fallen noble like her without anyone ever knowing.

She steadied herself. No use regretting her casual behavior with him in the past—what mattered now was how she handled things from here on.

“Wha—! You’re a 6th-circle mage, Mr. Coachman?”

She widened her eyes in an exaggerated act of surprise, as if she truly hadn’t known.

“Yup~! I don’t usually say anything, ‘cause I don’t like drawing attention, you know.”

Heidi almost blurted out: Then why dress like that and drive that ridiculous carriage?! But she swallowed the words.

Still, he had admitted it himself—he never told her. That meant she had some excuse for having treated him lightly before.

“Exactly. I really had no idea. Even on your coachman’s card, you didn’t put your name, just your magic-telegram number…”

She stressed that point, as if to prove her ignorance. Now she had her excuse—time to settle how she should address him going forward.

“A 6th-circle researcher at the Mage Tower… that means you must have been knighted. Should I call you Sir Flan?”

Heidi pieced together what she knew. Mages at 6th-circle or higher usually received both a surname and a title. A 6th-circle researcher would at least be knighted.

She had never seen the surname Flan among the nobility in her reports as a civil servant, so he must be just a knight, not from a higher noble house.

Still, even that status, combined with his power, meant he outranked her in practice.

“Nooo! Don’t call me anything fancy. Just call me ‘coachman.’ I’m proud of my job~!”

“Um… pardon me, but isn’t your real job being a mage?”

“Ha! I get why you’d think so. But my main work really is closer to being a coachman. I travel across the empire, surveying the land, and making maps for the Mage Tower.”

“…The Mage Tower makes maps?”

Heidi tilted her head. Wasn’t that usually the imperial surveyors’ job?

“Ah, I knew you’d wonder! But it’s for the Warp Gate Project~.”

That she had heard of. Warp Gates were magical doors connecting distant locations instantly. Before the war, the empire had only a handful. But the emperor had ordered more after realizing how vital fast travel was.

“To make a Warp Gate, you need incredibly precise coordinates. That’s why I make maps with those coordinates. And I do it while traveling in my ostrich carriage~!”

“…That’s actually an important job.”

For the first time, Heidi felt guilty for thinking of him as just some eccentric loafer.

Now that she knew he had a proper role in the Mage Tower, her wariness eased, replaced with a small bit of trust. People with clear positions usually cared about their reputation—they wouldn’t recklessly harm others, especially nobles, even minor ones.

She even felt a little grateful to still hold the title of Baroness, however small.

“So… do you believe in my strength now~?”

“Yes. But I’m curious—why do you want to join us for the mandrake gathering?”

The coachman hesitated before answering.

“Well… part of it’s just responsibility. I brought it up first, after all…”

That didn’t sound like a lie, but Heidi sensed there was more.

“…But honestly, I also need some mandrake myself. The fresher it is, the stronger the effect~.”

The moment she heard that, Heidi was convinced.

So… he doesn’t like me after all.

Considering mandrake’s effects, it was obvious—he had a lover.

He’s still young. I wonder why he needs it though…

Her heart softened. Instead of suspicion, she decided to cheer for him.

And that pity was enough to lower her guard, just a little.

“All right, Coachman. Three days from now, 10 a.m., meet us here.”

***

The next two days flew by too quickly.

“Mmm~! This onion soup is amazing! The gentle sweetness, the roasted flavor, the rich broth! And this pastry crust on top—it crumbles so delicately in my mouth!”

She still loved his cooking.

He thought she looked like a little bird when she chewed, her lips puckering out slightly. Watching her eat so happily filled him with peace, making him enjoy cooking even more.

“Ber, is this really your first time planting potatoes? You cut them so fast! And look—each piece is perfectly quartered, almost the exact same weight!”

It was potato season, so under her lead, he planted seed potatoes, slicing them with his usual precision.

“Ber, I smell burning! Burning!”

Theo, the little creature, still clung to him constantly. The difference now was that instead of biting, Theo pressed its tiny feet against the back of his neck.

“Haha, Theo! Do that to me too, okay? On my neck?”

She lifted Theo off his shoulders, her fingers brushing the back of his neck.

Hm.

For some reason, it tickled.

The peaceful routine was dulling his sharp instincts. Part of him whispered: This isn’t right. You can’t stay here forever.

But whenever the breeze carried only the scent of the fields, not of blood, he couldn’t help but look at her.

And in those moments, he could see the world clearly again: the green around them, her hair swaying, the absence of screams or hatred. Only peace.

On the second evening, he stepped out of his bath.

In the moonlight, with his scarf removed, his real face showed.

His deep blue hair shimmered like a twilight river. His sharp nose, his lips, his clear blue eyes—they looked like they’d been painted with a master’s brush.

But his body was brutal, in contrast. Shoulders broad as boulders, back like a mountain ridge. A perfect harmony of grace and ferocity, like a tiger prowling the night.

Knock, knock.

A small tap at the window.

The boss?

He reached for his scarf to cover his face—when a cheerful voice called out:

“It’s meee~!”