Chapter 6 – Not the Person You Think
After blurting out her honest thoughts, Sebtina felt a flicker of regret.
Maybe she’d been too blunt.
She wondered if Adel had taken offense.
But Adel simply tied up Sebtina’s hair and replied in her usual bright voice,
“I respect your tastes too, milady! All done—shall we head to breakfast now?”
Despite Sebtina’s curt remark, Adel brushed it off without a hitch.
Relieved, Sebtina chuckled to herself.
“She makes you want to be kind in return.”
Just as Adel took care of her, Sebtina wanted to return the favor—even if their positions were different.
As for Clazen, yes, his network was impressive. He knew exactly when to elevate himself and when to humble himself, all according to the situation.
But I’m not July Rieve anymore.
There was no need to get dragged along in his games. Instead, she could take advantage of his resources and connections to find the very best tutors.
Sebtina didn’t want to be second to anyone when she stepped out into society.
Especially not—
Not to Yulia Rieve.
And another thing—Clazen visiting her today, despite his busy schedule, could only mean one thing: he wanted to solidify his ties with House Zeros and possibly win over Sebtina herself.
He probably wants to avoid anything that could create tension between us.
Sebtina thought it wouldn’t be so bad to see cracks form in that ever-smiling mask of his.
Snapping at that courteous, charming face he always wore… that might be satisfying.
Breakfast was exactly to Sebtina’s taste. The table was full of fresh fruits and vegetables from the estate. Neatly sliced peaches, watermelon, and citrus fruits adorned the table, ignoring seasonal norms altogether.
One bite, and juice filled her mouth. It was so good she couldn’t help but salivate between mouthfuls.
The cream soup and freshly baked bread—served especially for her delicate condition—were delicious too. A spoonful of hot soup, followed by a piece of soft, chewy bread dipped into it… Sebtina had never realized meals could be this enjoyable.
After breakfast, she returned to her room to change into a dress for her visitors.
The fabric was soft and smooth, the design modest. It had been tailored for comfort, back when she had still been bedridden. Unlike the current fashion, with their puffed sleeves and wide skirts, this dress was practical and simple.
Adel smoothed out the sleeves and spoke carefully, almost reading Sebtina’s thoughts.
“Lady Cordelia says she’ll be taking you shopping soon.”
“What kind of shop?”
“Briden’s Atelier. It’s the most popular among noble young ladies these days. Oh! Milady, would it be alright if I came along? Just to look, I mean. I know I still have chores and all…”
Adel always made sure to stay in line, never overstepping.
“If it works out, let’s go together.”
But Sebtina wished she’d bend those rules once in a while.
“Really?! You can’t take it back!”
Because Sebtina never had the chance to.
She smiled faintly and made her way to the drawing room. As soon as she was seated, the physician entered. Just like last time, they went through routine questions and checked her physical state.
After the doctor came the priest.
And finally—Dante.
As though avoiding interruptions, he once again chose to be the last.
Sebtina looked up as he entered. She had expected him, so his arrival didn’t surprise her this time.
“It’s been a while. Have you been well?”
He opened with a polite greeting. But Sebtina couldn’t forget the way he’d spoken the last time, and she almost scoffed.
She composed her expression and gave a curt nod. “Yes.”
“I’ll check your condition, then.”
Dante didn’t rush. Although it was clear that her physical health was secondary and the real reason he was here was to investigate her awakening, he moved methodically.
Sebtina said nothing and simply offered her hand.
Dante checked the flow of mana, then let go. Nothing had changed.
She was still perfectly fine.
“Then, shall we continue our conversation from last time—”
“There’s nothing.”
She cut him off coldly.
“…Have you actually thought it over?”
The reply had come too quickly. Dante furrowed his brow in suspicion.
Sebtina nodded.
She’d thought about it more than enough—too much, even. She’d feared the temptation to say something might return, but it never had.
His suspicion was understandable, but it still left a bitter taste in her mouth.
“Do you think I’m lying?”
“…I can understand why you’d take it that way. I apologize. That’s not what I meant.”
Dante offered a rare apology.
Sebtina saw him bite his lip.
That only happens when he’s anxious…
Was he really that unsettled by getting nothing from her?
How close did he think he was to July, anyway?
She clenched her fist at the memory of his cold, cutting farewell.
“After you left last week, I looked into July Rieve myself. I was curious.”
It wasn’t a lie. Her “curiosity” had given her the excuse to gather more information about her former self.
Seeing how others viewed July had been strange. Fascinating, at first.
But that fascination didn’t last.
She realized just how little July had mattered to anyone.
The loneliness and pain July had endured… those nameless emotions had existed solely for her. No one else had ever known or cared.
On paper, July Rieve barely filled half a page.
“She was nothing special. An orphan. Rarely left the estate due to illness. Been unconscious for a year.”
All common knowledge.
And without the water sigil, July was never publicly acknowledged as a successor to the Elemental Thrones. Her meetings with the other heirs had been held in secret, arranged only because she had been a candidate.
They’d met one-on-one. And if they ever thought they felt close to her—it was probably just an illusion.
“I think it’s a miracle I woke up. And I know miracles don’t happen twice.”
A week was enough to realize it.
This might be her only chance—her one blessing from the gods.
A chance to live as Sebtina, in a warm, normal family.
A chance to sever the entanglements with those three, who had only ever held her because of their own desperation.
She didn’t want to go back.
She didn’t want to wake up from this dream, this reality.
She didn’t want to be July Rieve.
“…What are you trying to say?” Dante asked, pushing up his glasses. The reflection on the lenses made his sharp eyes glint beneath.
The Dante she remembered had surfaced.
“I’m saying… that the person you’re so desperate to save wasn’t worth the effort.”
She couldn’t bring herself to call him by name, so she simply called him “Mage.”
Her voice caught for a moment mid-sentence.
Because she wasn’t sure who she was really saying this to—him, or herself.
Dante’s expression twisted.
Not with irritation, as usual, but something else—subtle. He averted his eyes slightly.
But then his gaze returned and locked onto hers.
“…That’s enough. You’ve barely recovered. Don’t act like you know everything.”
His words were laced with disdain.
Oh, I know plenty.
More than he ever would. Even the thoughts July never dared speak aloud.
“Even without knowing, some things are obvious.”
“Don’t say such things when you don’t understand. If you say that outside, someone might slap you.”
He crossed his arms, voice gentle—but the message behind it was sharp and clear.
“There won’t be any more visits or questions from me regarding this. So please, stay out of my affairs as well.”
It was a clean break.
She wondered how much Dante really knew about July.
Did he even know why she had tried to end her life?
Well, no matter.
“No problem. I won’t bother with your business. And I hope I don’t get any more questions either.”
“…Understood.”
There was a moment of silence, but he eventually answered.
With that, there was no reason for them to meet again.
She’d left a strong, unpleasant impression—exactly as she wanted.
I didn’t mean to be friendly anyway. I just said what I felt…
“Well then. That’s all for today.”
She had no desire to share the same air any longer.
When Sebtina rose from her seat, Dante packed up his bag.
She walked to the door, waiting to see him out. He paused briefly before speaking.
“…Next week will likely be your final examination.”
“I’ll see you then. If there’s anything else to say, I’ll tell you.”
“No, unless it’s about what I asked, it won’t be necessary. Take care, Lady Sebtina.”
Right to the end, he only said what he wanted.
Typical Dante.
Should she be relieved he hadn’t changed—or angry at his audacity?
After warning her that her words could get her slapped, his own were far sharper.
And what was even more ridiculous was how naturally she accepted it.
She’d built up a tolerance to it.
It’s scary, how easily you get used to things.
Sebtina gave a small, dry laugh.
In the distance, Dante’s figure grew smaller at the end of the corridor.
So quickly fading from view, as if he couldn’t wait to get as far from her as possible.
