TRL 70

Chapter 70

“…Huh? What, why?”

“I’ll go to the drawing room. You go take care of something else.”

Though the words were spoken with a smile and gentle tone, Hannah felt a strange chill. It was as if a cold blade were pressing against the back of her neck.

She clutched the tray in her hands like it was her lifeline.

“I-it’s okay! It’s my job!”

“I’m just helping because I’m free. You’re busy, Hannah.”

“I’m not busy, serving you is my main job, so it’s fine—”

“F***.”

The sudden curse shocked Hannah, and her eyes widened in disbelief.

Ethan—silver-haired, red-eyed Ethan—the man who now seemed more like a ghost of the one she used to know, whispered with a smile still on his face.

“I’m already about to lose my f***ing mind, so take the damn hint, okay?”

“…Hic.”

Terrified, Hannah hiccupped and froze in place. Ethan casually took the tray from her hands and walked away without another word.

She stared at his retreating white silhouette, and then, before she realized it, called out.

“Ethan!”

He came to an abrupt stop. It was a reflex—Hannah’s sharp voice had reminded him of Rita Pascal.

Unaware of this, Hannah choked up and spoke to his back.

“Why are you acting like this to me all of a sudden? You weren’t like this before. You were nice to me…”

Nice enough to make me think it meant something.

As she swallowed the end of her sentence, she realized—she had started to like him. And now it felt sad and unfair.

I didn’t fall for you first. You started it. You made me think it was something. So why are you doing this now?

“Ethan, did I do something wrong? Or did I make you misunderstand something?”

She couldn’t express the sadness directly, so she just asked. Ethan turned back to her and walked closer.

“A misunderstanding.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. You made me misunderstand.”

“Wh-what misunderstanding? Tell me, I’ll explain everything—”

“But it’s not your fault. I was the f***ing idiot who misunderstood.”

He stopped in front of her and muttered bitterly.

“Some people can just tell with one look. But me? F***, I couldn’t even be sure, couldn’t recognize the real one even when she was right in front of me… Hah… Yeah, of course. That’s just who I am. A useless piece of sh*t who can’t do anything alone.”

It was all a monologue. Hannah couldn’t understand a word. She just stared, frightened, as Ethan lowered his head with a twisted smile.

“The oath I was given—that was the real me.”

“…Ethan?”

“Forget it. F***. What does a damn sword know about anything? It should know its place.”

He mumbled to himself, then finally looked straight at her.

“Hey, you.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Don’t get your hopes up about me again.”

“…”

“It’s not your problem. I’m just a f***ed-up dumbass. If you’re that bitter about it, bring a knife next time. I’ll let you stab me once.”

“…What?”

“I’m leaving.”

With that, he turned and walked toward the drawing room, tray in hand.

Hannah watched him go, then collapsed powerlessly to the floor.

The drawing room door opened, and the moment she saw the face of the person entering, Lillietta smiled without realizing it. Though his hair and eye color had changed, the face was unmistakable.

“Ethan.”

The moment Ethan saw the smiling woman beyond the gun aimed at him, he froze.

Even as she called his name with a welcoming smile, she kept the gun steady, unwavering in her aim. For a moment, someone else overlapped with her in his vision.

“It is Ethan, right?”
Lillietta asked Olivia behind her. Olivia peeked out, saw Ethan standing there, and nodded.

“Yeah, I was going to tell you, but there was so much going on I forgot. Turns out Ethan snuck into your house disguised as a footman.”

“He infiltrated our house? Why?”

“Why else? Because of that maid of yours who looks exactly like your old self and confused the hell out of everyone.”

“Ah…”

Rita finally lowered the gun and handed it to Olivia, then approached Ethan.

But before she could say anything, Ethan blurted out something completely different.

“What the f*** happened to your face?”

“It’s changed a lot, huh? It might seem unfamiliar—”

“Not that.”

He slammed the tray down and strode toward her.

“Your cheek. What happened to it?”

“Oh, that.”

Ethan grabbed Rita’s chin, turning her head side to side, then clenched his teeth.

“Who the f*** did this?”

“No, Ethan. Do you think I’m the kind of person who’d just let someone slap me? It’s not what you think.”

“Not what I think, my ass. Look in the mirror and say that again.”

“That bastard was me.”

Olivia cut in from behind Rita. Ethan frowned hard.

“You?”

“Yeah, I hit her.”

“Why?”

Ethan’s voice dropped. Rita quickly stepped between them.

“I deserved it.”

“Oh, bullsh*t. What the hell does ‘deserve it’ even mean?”

“Dying in front of you like that?”

“…”

Ethan shut his mouth. Rita smiled bitterly and apologized.

“I’m sorry.”

“…At least you know it was a f***ed-up thing to do. No one appreciated that crap, you know that?”

“I know now.”

“You didn’t know before?”

“I wasn’t thinking about what would come after.”

“Real smart of you, Rita Pascal.”

“Wanna hit me too?”

“Are you insane?”

“If it’ll make you feel better, go ahead. I can take it.”

“…F***ing hell.”

Ethan looked at her like she was unbelievable and let out a deep, exhausted sigh.

“You look like a damn fairy, but inside you’re still Rita Pascal through and through. She’s been right in front of me this whole time, and I—what the hell have I been doing?”

Olivia cut in again.

“Hey, Ethan, you got that potion I made you?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Use it to treat Rita. I left mine at home.”

“You nag me to carry it everywhere, but you leave yours behind, huh?”

Grumbling, Ethan pulled out a small glass vial and gestured to Rita.

“Turn your head.”

“Her inner cheek is torn, so have her hold it in her mouth before applying it.”

“How hard did you hit her to draw blood, damn.”

“I thought she was the old Rita. Be careful—she’s as fragile as paper now.”

“Paper?”

“She came back in her childhood body—sickly and weak. Just look at those tiny wrists and that scrawny neck.”

“…Damn, you’re right. What are we even supposed to do with this?”

Rita was dumbfounded, watching the two friends chat over her head.

“Guys, I’m right here. I can hear everything.”

“Oh, right! Our dear friend Rita is with us. We just got so used to talking about you since you disappeared like poof one day.”

“…”

Somehow, it felt like she’d handed over a lifelong weakness they’d never let her live down.

As Rita sulked, Ethan opened the potion bottle and brought it to her lips.

“So Rita, why the hell did you come back looking so different? You made finding you a pain in the ass. And what’s with that maid who looks just like your old self?”

“…”

“Ah, answer later. After you heal.”

She nodded, and Ethan gently applied the potion to her cheek. Meanwhile, Olivia, who had been working alone on the Silver Grace, suddenly exclaimed.

“Done!”

“Done with what?”

“The upgraded part to stop your crazy episodes is installed.”

With a pleased grin, she walked over holding the Silver Grace.

“When people return, their hand size or shape can change, so I couldn’t make a new magic gun in advance. Plus, their odd affinity and capacity can shift. So I figured we’d custom-make a new one later.”

Rita’s eyes sparkled at her friend’s explanation—Olivia had always been her personal gunsmith since they were 13. Seeing that look, Olivia grinned and continued.

“Anyway, I couldn’t make a full gun yet, but I brought the upgraded part I’d been working on. And luckily, you’ve got a gun you’re using right now. So I thought, let’s install it in that one—for now, it should work.”

Rita, unable to speak because of the potion, quickly held out her hand. Olivia placed a silver revolver on it.

“Alright, now try talking to it.”

“…?”

“Inject your odd into it.”

She added with a subtle smile,

“I made it while waiting for your return. You’ll love it, I promise.”

With anticipation in her heart, Lillietta infused her odd into the Silver Grace.