WTARC 21

“Are you serious? A prophet… That’s absolutely impossible. That’s the kind of thing you only see in ancient folklore.”

Duchess Regina couldn’t hide her disbelief. But Istin nodded without the slightest hesitation.

“Yes, I’m serious.”

In truth, if it weren’t for Miela pretending not to listen while clearly eavesdropping nearby, he would’ve said everything he truly wanted to.

There’s magic out there that can bring someone back from the brink of death in an instant, and curses that even such magic can’t break. So why couldn’t a prophet exist?

“Hah…”

The duchess couldn’t push him any further. It was the first time she’d seen Istin look this certain about something. But still, she wanted to understand what made him trust that girl so deeply.

‘Is it those clear, pretty eyes? Or maybe that innocent heart and unexpectedly cheerful spirit?’

Of course, Regina herself acknowledged that Miela had a sort of magnetic charm that pulled people in.

But her thoughts remained rigid. She couldn’t allow such a girl into their estate on such flimsy, uncertain grounds. That would go against her principles.

“I’m sorry, Ist—no, Titi. But the value you’ve proposed for that child doesn’t seem to be of any benefit to our family.”

“What do you mean by that? I can’t accept this. You haven’t even seriously considered it!”

Istin’s expression darkened. He had braced himself for resistance, but he hadn’t expected to be rejected so outright.

Despite his protest, the duchess didn’t budge.

“It’s exactly as I said. There’s nothing in what you’ve brought me that seems worth thinking over. Trying to convince me with such nonsense? That’s not like you.”

“No, that’s not true, Mother. That girl—Miela is definitely…!”

He was so emotional that he didn’t even notice he’d slipped and used her name in front of Miela.

Miela, who had been holding her breath at the escalating tension, blinked at the unfamiliar form of address and mumbled to herself.

“…Wait, Lady Regina is his mother? Did I mishear that?”

But Istin was too overwhelmed to hear her whisper. It’s often said the mind goes cold when betrayed too deeply—and he was exactly in that state. A biting sarcasm crept into his voice.

“Oh, so you never intended to keep your promise in the first place. Is that it?”

“What are you talking about? This was a bet based on you bringing a reasonable argument.”

Regina’s lips twisted. That kind of sarcasm—just who did he get it from? He’d inherited so much from her late husband that there wasn’t a single endearing trait to be found.

“Then what about what you said before? That a life-saving benefactor deserves a proper reward. Was that just empty words?”

“Of course not. I’ve also thought about how to reward her.”

“And what is that?”

Istin asked as calmly as he could. Regina looked off into the distance—toward the village.

“I heard the house she’s staying in is quite old. Supposedly, the ceiling could collapse at any moment…”

“Well, yes, but it’s still livable! It’s not about to collapse—just has a few holes in the roof, that’s all!”

Miela suddenly burst in. Regina looked at her and chuckled.

“I was planning to shut down this villa when it’s no longer in use. When that time comes, you may stay here. How’s that? Surely that’s better than living in a house full of holes.”

“Here? I can live in this villa? Oh my gosh!”

Miela nearly collapsed in surprise. Istin caught her as she staggered and shook his head.

“Well, I’m not sure that’s a very practical reward.”

“What? And why do you say that?”

“Even if Miela were given ownership of this place instead of just the right to live here, would she really be able to live peacefully without being taken advantage of?”

Istin recalled the past two weeks. He had seen Miela being exploited by the villagers for her labor, struggling to survive.

“They’d either pressure her or try to trick her into giving it up.”

Miela was too kind and too fond of people. She’d fall for it. Again and again.

Startled by Istin’s sharp point, the duchess hastily added,

“Then how about leaving a few knights to guard the place?”

“That’s only a temporary fix. Miela still has to work within the village to survive. What’s the point of living in a nice house if she’s hated by everyone around her? Don’t you think so?”

“…Now that you mention it, I suppose you’re right. It seems I misjudged this.”

She couldn’t keep pushing when Istin was being so earnest. Regina was surprised. Since when had he become so considerate of others?

‘If he showed that kind of empathy to others besides Miela, he probably wouldn’t be known as the Iron-blooded Young Lord.’

With a small sigh, the duchess came to a decision.

“Alright, let’s do this. We’ll bring Miela to the ducal estate, as you wish. The reward will be given in cash.”

“Phew, so you finally understand.”

Istin let out a sigh of relief. But then came Regina’s next words.

“However, it’s on the condition that she be employed as a maid for our household. We can’t just take her in for free, can we? This should be acceptable to you, right?”

“…What?”

Istin’s face darkened again. Just when he thought he’d cleared a hurdle, another arose.

“What do you mean? Miela is only ten years old. You never employ anyone under fifteen. Why now…?”

“If it’s the age, we can bring her in as a trainee maid instead of a full one.”

“Gasp! That’s great! I’ve always wanted to be a maid! If you’ll have me, I’ll work nonstop all day!”

The duchess was nonchalant, and Miela, eyes sparkling with excitement, showed absolutely no sense of concern. A complete disaster duo.

Istin felt a headache coming on. It felt just like the early symptoms before his last curse flare-up. He hoped it was just in his head.

“Miela, please stop. I’m not okay right now.”

“She’s fine with it. What’s the problem? Should I make her a page for the knights instead, with arms like twigs?”

Regina scolded him. But Miela focused on a different part of what she’d said.

“Well, Lady Regina, I don’t mind becoming a page either! If you let me, I’ll train until my arms are as thick as logs! Hiyah!”

Miela swung an imaginary sword through the air, full of confidence. Regina broke into a sweat at the sight—this girl was a completely different kind of trouble from Istin.

“Dear, I was just joking. No need to take it so seriously.”

Just then, Istin’s face visibly paled. Regina felt a jolt of panic.

“Wait—Istin…!”

It was a mother’s instinct. She’d seen it before. Whenever he was exposed to loud noises or intense stress, the curse would flare up.

“Ugh…”

Sure enough, Istin staggered and collapsed. Fortunately, Miela was right there to catch him.

“Titi! Are you okay?”

“Servant! Get the doctor right now!”

“Y-Yes, ma’am!”

The panicked butler ran off toward the room where the family doctor stayed.

“Oh dear, the young master has collapsed…!”

The head maid also rushed off to get a stretcher.

As everyone scrambled in a panic, Miela stood there alone, stunned and slowly piecing everything together.

“W-What’s going on? So Titi is… the young master of this family?”

At last, the puzzle pieces of all her lingering suspicions began falling into place in Miela’s mind.

Everything pointed to one conclusion. And finally, from her small lips came a tiny, trembling whisper.

“Titi… was Istin Baluar? Really?”