Did I Just Think You Were Cute?
“Why was I even born like this?”
Bang! Someone slammed a fist hard against the bathhouse wall, lamenting their fate.
‘Who is that? I’ve never seen anyone wash up at this hour.’
Lukna stiffened and held her breath.
“How much longer do I have to keep trying here before things get better? It’s not like I can rip out this damn heart and tear it to pieces.”
The low voice echoing from inside was anything but ordinary.
Lukna swallowed dryly. Strangely, her feet wouldn’t move.
“If only I had the Holy Sword, none of this would’ve happened. I’ll find the bastard who took it and kill him. I’ll kill him.”
Bang. Bang. The sound of someone striking the wall hard enough to break it repeated several times before a brief splash of water followed.
What should I do? It’s Matian.
‘R-run. I need to run.’
The vicious words about killing whoever took the Holy Sword echoed in her head.
Lukna forced her trembling legs to move, stepping as quietly as possible.
It wasn’t just fear that made her steps heavy.
Hearing the resentment mixed into his voice stirred an inexplicable sense of guilt and apology within her.
She tried to leave as quickly as possible, but fate did not side with her.
Matian, wearing nothing but trousers, stepped out before she could escape.
The moment he saw her, he stopped in his tracks.
The shirt tucked under his arm was stained with brown medicine in the shape of hearts.
“M-Matian? You bathed at dawn? That’s… really diligent of you.”
Startled like a guilty person caught in the act, Lukna offered an awkward greeting.
“…Ha.”
Matian rolled his eyes upward as if exhausted and let out a deep sigh.
Though the corners of his lips habitually held a gentle smile, anger was clearly written across his face.
‘Did Teacher Gale tell him I was the one who saved him? That’s the only reason he’d be angry.’
She had seemed like the discreet type. What a disappointment.
Biting her lip, Lukna searched for an opening to flee.
Best to disappear before he could say anything.
‘Now!’
Just as she was about to make her move—
“Lukna Golden. So it was you.”
As if sensing it, Matian called her name and grabbed her ankle.
“The kind benefactor who carried me to the infirmary.”
His voice was soft, calling her his benefactor, yet something about it carried a faint, predatory threat.
Brushing back his wet hair, Matian walked right up to her.
The cold scent of soap drifting from him on the wind stole the air from Lukna’s lungs.
His perfectly sculpted upper body filled her vision.
‘Even if I think of him as just another guy, isn’t this way too close?’
He acted like a gentleman, but personal space clearly meant nothing to him.
Embarrassed, Lukna lowered her gaze.
She saw defined abs and thick legs wrapped in black trousers. That was no less awkward, so she quickly raised her head again.
Now she was met with Matian’s face, his wet hair hanging loosely.
Though the frigid dawn wind brushed against his still-damp skin, he showed no sign of shivering.
His eyes, like round beads molded from the deep blue of early dawn, stared at her intently.
‘It’s scarier when he smiles like that.’
The chill crawling down her spine was hers alone to bear. Yet she couldn’t look away.
Her own heartbeat pounded loudly in her ears.
Anyone’s heart would race if a half-naked handsome man stood this close.
The moment she managed to avert her gaze into empty air, Matian spoke.
“Well, seeing your face confirms it.”
“W-what are you talking about?”
As she denied it, his gaze trapped her again.
His hand reached toward her.
‘Is he going to hit me? As if I’d just stand there and take it.’
Lukna immediately stepped back and raised both arms defensively.
But her dramatic preparation was for nothing—Matian’s hand gently touched her forehead instead.
With his thumb, he wiped across it and held it up for her to see.
Red medicine she hadn’t completely washed off stained his finger.
“This is the medicine only the school nurse uses.”
“…Ah.”
Lukna glanced at him. His blue eyes gleamed with certainty, as if a lie would cost her life.
With no choice, she nodded.
“Fine. Yes. It was me.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you take me to the infirmary?”
“Because you were collapsed.”
Why ask something so obvious? Lukna pouted irritably.
But Matian frowned, as if he couldn’t understand that answer.
“Even if you’ve lost your memories…”
He stared into her eyes, trying to discern whether she was lying.
Her green eyes—so like their owner—met his before trembling and darting away.
Her long lashes fluttered busily, and her cheeks slowly flushed red.
For a moment, Matian nearly laughed.
He had occasionally seen strange fellows blush at him like this before, but every one of them had disgusted him.
‘Did I just think Lukna was cute?’
It was the first time he’d ever had such a thought, and it unsettled him. He couldn’t find the cause of this ridiculous idea.
Have I lost my mind? Cute? He’s a guy. Don’t be absurd.
“Anyway… thank you.”
The gratitude slipped out before he could stop it.
Originally, he had intended to beat her half to death so she wouldn’t recklessly talk about witnessing his weakness.
How strange. Scratching his forehead, he added the warning he’d meant to give.
“But next time, even if you see it, just walk past.”
“Why?”
“I told you before. I have a demon’s heart. If my patience runs out, I might rampage like one.”
After delivering his serious advice, Matian passed by her and headed back to the dormitory.
Lukna stared wide-eyed at his retreating back.
Then—
“Is he a lunatic with a decent face?”
…she muttered very quietly.
After finishing dawn training, Lukna found a letter in the first-floor lobby mailbox.
‘It’s from Giselle.’
The red wax sealing the beige luxury envelope bore the Golden family crest.
Carefully opening it, she unfolded the letter written in Giselle’s beautiful handwriting.
‘If I don’t reply, something terrible might happen.’
It was drenched in longing for Lukna.
Hello, Lukna. You’re well, right?
I picked up my pen again because you didn’t respond to my last letter. Have you perhaps forgotten me? If you’ve forgotten me along with your lost past, I might as well die.
In just five sentences, Giselle was already discussing death.
I visit the underground prison where we built our memories together every day. Sitting there makes me think of you and fills me with happiness. Do you remember the day we were locked up together and you carved your name into the wall? I’m writing this letter there, looking at that name.
Why write in a cold prison instead of a perfectly good room?! Lukna flipped the letter over.
Gray stone dust clung to the back. Apparently, she wasn’t exaggerating.
I dare not ask for a reply, Lukna. My Lukna, a perfect creation sculpted by God, must be far too busy being loved. So instead, could you at least send a lipstick mark on the paper?
They say that to become an elegant lady, even a single sentence must carry grace. So I’ll end here. If I write any longer, I fear I’ll start composing indecent lines.
With love,
Giselle Golden.
Indecent lines? Lukna stretched her lips in exasperation.
She wasn’t particularly curious about what Giselle had omitted.
‘Come to think of it, I forgot to reply to her last letter.’
Pulling out stationery from her desk drawer, Lukna quickly wrote a response.
She placed it inside one of the white envelopes issued monthly to cadets, embossed with the academy seal.
‘I’ll drop this in the mailbox near the main gate and head to class.’
Leaving the dormitory, Lukna walked toward the gate.
Crossing the perfectly symmetrical central flowerbeds, the fragrant scent of blossoms tickled her nose.
Near the gate, the area bustled with students coming and going from the shopping district.
As luck would have it, two postmen were loitering among the cadets.
‘Maybe I can hand it to them directly.’
Lukna took the letter out of her jacket pocket again.
After smoothing a slightly crumpled corner, she looked up—only to find the postmen gone.
‘Where did they disappear to so quickly?’
She glanced around and stepped up to the red mailbox.
It looked remarkably similar to the mailboxes she’d seen in her previous life.
‘Three stamps to reach the Golden territory?’
After checking the distance-based postage chart, she licked the back of the stamps she’d bought earlier and stuck them on.
That was when she noticed a small yellow wildflower blooming among the grass in the nearby flowerbed.
‘It looks like Giselle.’
She plucked a single blossom and tucked it into the edge of the envelope.
Giselle would surely treasure even such a tiny flower.
“Good grief. What a sight.”
At that moment, a sneering voice rang out as Bolton swaggered over.
