CICN 51

Chapter 51

Ivy recalled the magic stone she had received from Professor Sian.

Even last night, she had fallen asleep peacefully without fear, thanks to the stone’s glow.

The magic stone continued to emit a soft light and warmth next to her bed until morning.

It wasn’t just about sleeping more comfortably.

Sometimes when she woke up at night to go to the bathroom, the light was just enough to see around her, making it easy to get up.

The more she looked at it, the more fascinating the stone became.

When she touched it, it would light up; when she touched it again, the light would disappear. So, she turned it off when going to class.

Irene had told her the stone’s magic wouldn’t wear out even if it glowed all day, but still, she worried that the magic might one day vanish.

‘Come to think of it, I should finish that letter to the professor.’

She couldn’t just enjoy the precious gift without expressing her thanks.

‘The director always says to express gratitude when receiving a gift.’

So, Ivy decided to go see Professor Sian.

However, no matter how much she searched through the gifted academy’s guidebook, she couldn’t find Professor Sian’s office—or even his name.

As if he didn’t exist.

‘That can’t be right.’

She had clearly met a man in front of the grave in the forest who introduced himself as Sian Roschen.

Moreover, that name was listed as her guardian, and he had sent her a gift. Even the handkerchief she’d forgotten was included.

There’s no way it had all been a dream.

‘Even the academic office didn’t seem to know much.’

“Hmm… He’s listed as a professor, but his office and address are unclear. It’s probably because he’s newly arrived in the capital, so the address hasn’t been updated yet. I’ll let you know as soon as it’s confirmed.”

While Ivy wondered what to do, she decided to write a letter.

She could send it once she got the address later.

Back in her room, Ivy took out a piece of paper she had tucked away in her drawer.

It was the wrapping paper from Irene’s gift box.

“You want this? I don’t mind giving it to you, but… what are you going to use it for?”

Irene had looked at her like she couldn’t understand what Ivy would do with wrapping paper.

The paper was beautifully printed with various flowers and trees over a lovely background color.

Ivy pressed the crumpled parts under a thick book and, the next day, cut it down to notebook size.

‘It’s perfect for letter paper.’

Though the academy provided plain stationery, she wanted to write on prettier paper.

Ivy took out the paper and sat at her desk.

“Hmmm…”

The letter she had started writing yesterday was still there.

After staring at it for a long time, Ivy slid it back into her desk and took out a new sheet.

But for some reason, her hand with the pen wouldn’t move.

It was strange. When writing to the director, the words came easily, as if she were simply speaking.

Hadn’t she written three pages just yesterday?

She tried again to write a letter to Professor Sian, but it still didn’t go well.

Just in case, Ivy took out the unfinished letter to the director and continued writing it.

There was so much to share today too.

How not only she, but also Irene, Arcel, and Ruska, had joined Professor Malles’s class.

How they had eaten together and tried new dishes—and how Arcel and Ruska ate way more than she expected.

In no time, the page filled up with her neat handwriting.

She could write to the director with ease—so why was it so hard to write to Professor Sian?

As Ivy groaned while staring at the paper, time passed.

Eventually, she gave up, set the pen down, walked over to her bed, and sat beside it, gazing at the magic stone.

When she reached out to touch it, it lit up as if it had been waiting.

Ivy picked it up, hugged it to her chest, and lay down on her bed.

It hadn’t been long since she’d received it, yet it already felt so familiar—like it had always been there.

She even worried she might not be able to fall asleep without it now.

As she fiddled with the stone, she felt a warmth spread across the back of her hand and sat up in surprise.

“…!”

A strange mark had appeared on the back of her hand again.

Startled, she quickly covered it with her sleeve and looked around.

Even though she knew it was her room, she checked several times to make sure she was alone before cautiously pulling back her sleeve.

Sure enough—it wasn’t her imagination.

Anyone who saw it would think something had stained her hand; the mark had darkened significantly.

‘Why is this happening? Last time I saw it, it had faded so much I thought it would disappear completely.’

Ivy scrubbed at it with her clothes. But of course, it didn’t come off.

“What should I do…”

She had forgotten all about it for a while, so why had it returned now?

When she lived at the inn, there had been a sick person whose skin was covered in marks.

The innkeeper had spat on that person, calling them disgusting and dirty.

Would the people at the academy react the same way if they saw this on her?

‘I don’t want that.’

She thought of Irene, Arcel, and Ruska, who had shared lunch with her.

They had been so kind and friendly—but if they found out about this strange mark…

Staring bitterly at the back of her hand, Ivy wondered how she could get rid of it.

‘It only appeared when I was sick or scared…’

But she wasn’t sick or afraid now, so why had it appeared?

Burdened with worry and near tears, Ivy curled up in bed, hugging the magic stone.

‘Please…’

She silently hoped the mark wouldn’t show up when she was around others.

Just as her eyes closed, the pattern on her hand flickered faintly.

Then, it slowly began to take shape—not just a stain but a clear, defined form.

It glowed on her hand for a while as if trying to complete itself, then began to fade again, as though it had used up its strength for the day.

* * *

“Ugh…”

Ivy raised her body from where she’d been lying.

She must’ve dozed off without realizing.

She turned to look out the window—the sky was already glowing red with the setting sun.

Then she remembered why she’d been in bed: the mark had appeared on her hand.

“What?”

She checked quickly, but her hand was clean—as if nothing had ever been there.

“Thank goodness…”

She didn’t know why, but she was relieved it had vanished.

Maybe it really had been just a dream.

She got out of bed and looked at the clock—still about an hour before Irene would return.

Ivy thought about reviewing another class or reading a book.

Just then, a breeze came in through the open window.

And suddenly, she remembered the day she had met Professor Sian.

‘It was around this time of day too…’

The moment that thought struck her, Ivy jumped to her feet.

She rushed out of the dormitory and ran toward the place where she had met him.

The cool wind brushed through her messy hair, making it flutter and tickle her cheeks.

Somehow, it felt like the wind was pushing her forward.

Urging her to go.

She entered the quiet walking path and searched for the little trail she had seen.

‘It should be around here…’

Before long, Ivy easily found the small tunnel-like path through the bushes.

She slipped inside, and moments later, the bushes rustled in the wind—and the path vanished, as if it had never existed.

As if no one else would be able to pass through now.

* * *

Clois was busily moving his hand.

The soft scratching of a pen on paper was the only sound.

Next to him, the Minister of State, who was preparing the next set of documents, gave a small cough.

At the sound, Clois finally looked up and glanced at him.

“You should take a break.”

“I’m fine. Just a small tickle.”

“Don’t say that. Take a seat. You’re not young anymore. You stand next to me every day like this, urging me on—even if I’m the emperor, I can’t help but feel uneasy.”

At Clois’s insistence, the minister finally gave a small bow and sat at the nearby table, placing the papers down.

Then he said,

“How unusual.”

“What is?”

“Usually, I’m the one urging Your Majesty to rest. But today, it’s the opposite.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. But you hardly ever listen.”

“Hah. The way you say it makes me sound like a tyrant who ignores your wise advice.”

Clois’s witty remark made the minister smile.

These days, Clois seemed much more at ease.

‘Just a few weeks ago, he looked truly unwell…’