Chapter 25
“Titi. What are you reading?”
It was pretty easy to gauge Joshua’s level of affection.
If he called me by a nickname, it meant, “I’m willing to open up to you a little.”
If he used my name, it meant, “I’ve opened up somewhat.”
And if he used an affectionate pet name, it meant, “I want to be really close to you.”
Of course, that was just my own arbitrary standard—but I doubted it was far off.
“Hannah’s letter. I was going to read it, but so much has been happening lately that I haven’t had time.”
And honestly, I wasn’t sure I was ready to face all the curses she might’ve packed into it.
Still, I’d steeled myself, and since we were waiting for the Saint anyway, I decided to open Hannah’s letter.
Joshua leaned in curiously to take a peek.
[It’s been years, hasn’t it? I told you countless times, but instead of taking my hand, my cute little Titi ran away.]
“Why didn’t you take her hand?”
“Hannah’s situation wasn’t exactly good either.”
Count Whitley was a cruel father to Hannah.
He constantly hurled insults and blows. The only time she was free from his hand was when he visited Viscount Angela’s estate.
They were drinking buddies and met quite often.
Thanks to that, I got to spend a lot of time with Hannah.
Her circumstances were similar to mine, if not worse.
How could I ask her for help?
If she helped me, and her father found out… I couldn’t imagine what he’d do to her.
So I’d fled without even leaving her a letter.
Still, her letter was filled with concern for me.
Her once-sharp, foul-mouthed tone had softened into graceful handwriting and refined words—it was almost shocking.
“Guess Hannah’s mellowed with age.”
Just the fact that her letter wasn’t full of curses was enough to ease my mind.
[You said we’d meet soon, so I’ll be waiting for that day. But do write to me often. I miss you.]
At that last line, I couldn’t help but smile.
“I should write her back tonight…”
Neigh!
A horse’s cry broke the air, and a white carriage came rushing through the gates.
“She’s here! She’s really here!”
Joshua shouted in excitement. I hoisted him onto my back and sprinted up to the third floor.
He hadn’t gone near the Boss in a while just to prepare for this day, and he was practically buzzing.
“Hurry, hurry!”
“I’d be faster if you got off my back.”
“We’re almost there!”
Yeah, sure.
My thighs and calves were screaming by the time I threw open the door.
Joshua hopped down, and I straightened my clothes, fixed my hair, and stood behind the Boss.
“She’s here?”
“Yes! Just remember what I told you, okay?”
“……”
“Just think of it as reading from a script.”
Click, clack.
The sound of angry heels echoed down the hallway, getting closer.
“You think I can really pull this off?”
“Of course.”
“Yeah, you can do it!”
“Dunno… I’ve always had rotten luck. Maybe nothing’ll change this time either.”
He looked calm, but his shoulders were stiff, his fists clenched—trying and failing to hide his nerves.
I gently pried his fingers open, one by one.
“Let’s test that luck today. Things will be different this time.”
“……”
“If you show you’re nervous, the Saint will notice right away. She’s sharp.”
That last smile she’d given him before they parted—
It still lingered vividly in my mind.
From that smile alone, she must’ve known the Boss hadn’t gotten over her yet.
“If she catches on to the lie this time, she won’t fall for it again.”
“I know.”
“And you remember—you have to tell her to get lost, right?”
He gave the faintest nod, just as the door burst open.
The Saint’s furious face appeared first.
She strode in with crumpled paper clenched tightly in her hand.
“Zervant!”
I greeted her politely.
Even in her rush, she hesitated for a moment when she saw me—her obsession with appearances kicking in—
but she quickly wiped the expression away and replaced it with a perfect smile.
“I need to talk to Zervant alone. Could you step out for a moment? You too, Joshua.”
“I’m sorry, Saint. I only take orders from my Boss. If he says to go, I’ll leave right away.”
“I don’t wanna. Bleh.”
Denied twice in a row, the Saint turned to the Boss.
“Zer.”
She jerked her chin, urging him to send us away, but he stayed silent.
His back was stiff, his jawline taut.
I brushed my fingers lightly against his hand.
He exhaled slowly, uncurled his fist, and finally spoke.
“If you’ve got something to say, say it.”
The Saint looked taken aback by his cold tone.
“…It’s important. I came to talk about the letter you sent. Are you sure that maid should hear this? I’m doing this for your sake.”
Each word seemed to weigh on him, but he still answered.
“For my sake? What about it?”
“Zervant…”
“I was planning to visit the temple to see you, but what made you rush over here?”
He said it mockingly, and that made her snap.
“Zervant!”
“Since becoming a hero, I thought you’d lost your voice—guess not.”
He rubbed his ear as if her shouting hurt, and her face twitched.
She realized he was slipping back into his old self.
From behind him, where she couldn’t see, I noticed her grip the hem of his shirt tightly.
He tensed at the touch.
“Zervant, have you gone mad from being locked up so long?”
That’s too cruel…
She knew he’d been trapped by a curse—why would she say that?
I patted the Boss’s back gently, trying to comfort him, while also holding Joshua back from lunging at her.
“This letter too!”
She threw the letter in his face.
That—!
I bit down on the urge to step in front of him.
I couldn’t interfere—he needed to handle this himself.
“How dare you send me something like this?!”
The Boss stared at the letter that had fallen at his feet and said nothing.
“Hey! Are you out of your mind?!”
Joshua shouted, unable to hold back, while I restrained him and kept my eyes on the Boss.
Please… please don’t lose your composure.
He exhaled shallowly, then spoke in a biting tone.
“Well, it’s not like I sent it to the Emperor.”
“Zervant!”
“I think that’s enough. I haven’t cared what you’ve done for the past two years.”
He stepped toward her, deliberately crushing the letter underfoot.
The Saint’s eyes trembled.
Even after two years of isolation, that intimidating aura of his hadn’t faded.
“Stop now, Yubelin Morte.”
“……”
“You’re not the only one holding my weaknesses.”
Her voice trembled at the unexpected threat.
“…Zervant.”
“The only reason I stayed quiet was to protect my friends. But—”
He gritted his teeth, anger surging.
“If you keep pushing like this, I won’t hold back anymore.”
The Saint took a deep breath, trying to compose herself.
Realizing anger wouldn’t work, she softened her tone.
“Zer… You’ve been isolated too long. You don’t understand—reporters twist our words. I never meant for things to sound that way.”
That’s her excuse?
Joshua and I both grimaced in disgust.
The Boss’s eyes stayed cold.
The Saint, sensing her failure, tried one last trick—she let tears fall and feigned remorse.
“Please, Zer. Aren’t we… more than strangers?”
You were the one who threw that letter in his face.
You were the one who treated him like he didn’t matter.
Please, Boss—don’t fall for those crocodile tears.
I gripped his pinky finger tightly out of fear.
Thanks to Joshua subtly blocking the view, the Saint didn’t notice.
The Boss stayed still for a moment, then gently took my hand.
A quiet sigh escaped him, and his voice turned even colder.
“Once could’ve been a mistake.”
“……”
“But for two years straight? That’s on you. You’re the one who pushed me to the edge.”
Even as she trembled, the Boss didn’t waver.
“Got it? Then get out.”
