IWMHWD 111

Chapter 111 – Love
2024.02.19.

Leonard had become terribly busy, so they hadn’t spoken about that matter at all…

No, to be honest, Cordelia had gone out of her way to avoid that subject. Whether Leonard noticed her clumsy avoidance or was simply being considerate, he acted as though nothing had happened.

Inside Cordelia, conflicting emotions churned. At times, it was difficult even to look Leonard in the eye. There were nights she lay awake, unable to sleep, because she couldn’t figure out where these uncomfortable feelings came from.

“It’s nothing. Forget it.”

“What? Why stop halfway? Don’t just leave me hanging like that.”

Though Cordelia clammed up, Ilias wouldn’t give up and kept pestering her. But how could she possibly tell someone she had only met a few times, ‘I think my teacher sees me as someone special.’

“I was just… wondering what love really is.”

“Oh, come on. You’re not some twelve-year-old girl. Haven’t you ever had a first love?”

“No.”

“You haven’t? Don’t tell me you never had even one decent man around you?”

Ilias stared at her like she was some strange creature. Cordelia found his look absurd.

“Before my coming-of-age ceremony, I never even had a private conversation with a man. That was just how things were where I grew up.”

“What? Where on earth did you… oh, right. You’re a Vasquez. I’ve heard the North is conservative, but this is really extreme.”

“I think you’re the extreme one—asking a stranger to get along so intimately the first time you meet them.”

Cordelia retorted with a blank face. Ilias gave her an awkward laugh.

“Alright, I’m sorry. It’s just that when I meet someone I like, I tend to be direct.”

“Yes, I noticed.”

After exchanging a few frivolous words, Cordelia rose from her seat. Ilias propped his chin in his hand and called after her departing back.

“Love, you know… to me it was like that person was the only thing in the world that had color.”

“Color? What do you mean by that?”

“In a world of black and white, only they shone with life.”

“Maybe you just had an eyesight problem?”

She asked suspiciously, and Ilias burst into laughter.

“You really are a kid who doesn’t know what love is.”

“A kid? I’m an adult. I’ve even been married, and widowed.”

Cordelia flared up at his words. Ilias tilted his chin smugly, wagging a finger left and right as he spoke in a maddening tone.

“Getting older doesn’t automatically make you an adult. Same with love—you don’t have to be married to understand it.”

“Is that so?”

“You’re proof enough of that.”

Cordelia mulled over his words as she returned to the lab. Her heart was still tangled.

Love. What was love, really?

For her, it was an impossibly difficult question. She had always thought it was just something special that only a few people experienced. Something that had no place in her life, like a dream that could never be real.

“Cordelia!”

“Hm?”

At the sound of her name, she lifted her head. Unusually, Candias was poking his eyeball out from the door, waiting for her.

“What is it? Did something happen?”

“You got a letter. They said it was urgent and to get it to you right away.”

“For me?”

He urged her to hurry over. Still bewildered, Cordelia stepped into the lab. Just like before, Candias’s eyeball split open, and a sealed envelope dropped into her hand.

The seal on the letter was all too familiar. Cordelia sighed the moment she saw it.

“Why? Who’s it from?”

“My father.”

Persistent as ever. No matter how she ignored him, he continued to send letters, and she was sick of it. Cordelia remembered very clearly how her father had sold her off, so his letters felt nothing but shameless, disgusting, contemptible.

When she moved toward the fireplace with the letter in hand, Candias quickly followed.

“You’re not going to burn it, are you?”

“Yes. It’s obvious it’s just another demand for money.”

She tried to hide her scorn, but failed. Just before the flames consumed it, Candias snatched the letter from her hand.

“At least read it before burning it! What if it’s really important? They did say it was urgent and had to reach you.”

He insisted. Reluctantly, Cordelia broke the seal and unfolded the letter. The handwriting was different than usual, and it was short enough to read in one glance. Candias peeked curiously.

“What does it say?”

“My father…”

“Yeah?”

“He’s on his deathbed.”

“What? That’s serious! You almost burned something that important!”

But Cordelia’s face didn’t change at all. At Candias’s fussing, the only response she gave was a faint, forced twist of her lips.

Her father had been ill for some time. Considering how much he smoked and drank every day, it was more surprising he hadn’t fallen ill sooner.

Even when he sold Cordelia off to the Abrams family, he had used his illness and medical expenses as an excuse.

The letter wasn’t from him, but from his physician. It said Pablo Vasquez’s condition had worsened and he had only a short time left—if she wanted to be at his bedside, she should come to Yebo Delim without delay.

Cordelia folded the letter and slipped it into her pocket, then sat at her desk as if nothing had happened, working on her usual assignments. Candias, however, hovered around her nervously.

“Uh, are you okay? Shouldn’t you start packing right away?”

“I’ll wait until Master comes. I need to ask him first.”

“Well, yes, but… goodness, your father must be really ill.”

If it had been news of his death, perhaps she might have shed a tear. But now? She felt no change at all. She was calm, almost as if she had expected this. Likely because she had no affection, no expectation left for him.

Leonard returned late at night. Before Cordelia could explain, Candias zipped over and whispered the news to him. Taking off his coat with a weary face, Leonard listened and came straight to her.

“Marquis Vasquez is gravely ill?”

“Yes. I received a letter from his physician.”

“What do you want to do?”

Cordelia looked up into Leonard’s eyes.

She was surprised. She had thought, like Candias, that he would assume she must go see her father despite their terrible relationship. Instead, he asked her. She bit her lip and answered.

“…I should go. If he dies, I’ll have to hold the funeral as well.”

“Shall I go with you?”

Even Cordelia, oblivious as she was, knew how busy he was. Even if he said it just out of courtesy, she was truly grateful.

“It’s fine. I’ve handled a funeral before. I can manage another.”

She gave a small smile. Leonard lifted his hand, as if out of habit to touch her cheek, but hesitated and lowered it again.

“Go ahead first. I’ll follow once I finish things here.”

“No, really, I’ll be fine. You’re so busy.”

“I’ll always have time for you.”

With that, Leonard went to his desk, rummaged for something, and returned. He opened his palm to show her several rings—at least six, gleaming in the light.

“What’s all this?”

“Do you remember the ring I gave you before you went to the Mage Association?”

“Oh, the one because of Maximilian?”

She recalled her first trip to the Mage Association—and how that ring had saved her life once.

“These rings have similar enchantments. Hold out your hand.”

Startled, Cordelia held out her hand. Leonard took it gently, delicately, as though handling fragile glass. Though barely any skin touched, the spot burned hot, as if seared.

As he slid a ring onto her finger, he said,

“I’ll give you a better ring next time.”

“…This one is more than enough.”

“I’m not.”

Leonard’s words made her heart pound. Glancing at the mirror on the wall, Cordelia saw her reflection—her face was blazing red, as if about to burst.

She tried to pull her hand free, but Leonard gripped it tightly instead.

“I like you, Cordelia.”

Her breath caught sharply. She held it, afraid it would escape in a sound.

“I like you so much it almost feels wrong. From the moment I wake until I fall asleep, my head is filled with nothing but you. I want to gouge out the eyes of every man who so much as looks your way.”

“…”

She had a thousand questions—Are you serious? Since when?—but none of them left her lips. All she could do was let out her trapped breath, little by little. Leonard gave a hollow laugh.

“I practiced this over and over, like a madman talking to the wall. And yet, when I finally say it, this is all I manage.”

“You… practiced?”

“Yes. I can’t exactly propose in such a clumsy way, can I?”

The word propose dragged Cordelia back down from the clouds to reality.

A proposal—the beginning of that dreadful, painful marriage.

Of course, Leonard and Craig were completely different men. She knew that. And yet, her expression darkened instinctively. Leonard noticed immediately and said,

“Give me your answer when we meet again.”

“Master—”

“I know you’re confused right now.”

He stepped back from her as if retreating, then gave a soft smile.

“Don’t be afraid. Even if you refuse me, nothing between us will change.”

“Master, I…”

Cordelia looked up at him, lips parting—yet he cut her off with quiet urgency.

“Next time. Tell me then.”

It was as though he already knew what her answer would be.