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Chapter 39
“What should we look at first?”
After gently setting El down, Caron smiled with eyes that curved softly and interlaced his fingers with hers.
“When you come to a festival, what do you usually do, Caron?”
“…Inspections.”
“……”
So, he’s never actually enjoyed a festival either.
El smiled, exaggeratedly pitying him.
Caron thought for a moment, then, still holding her hand, slowly walked into the crowd.
The streets were alive with curious trinkets and lively performances.
“Wow.”
“The butler once told me, at a festival you’re supposed to forget everything and just do what you want.”
“Really?”
El, who had been admiring the stalls, suddenly lifted her head to look at Caron.
Her brown eyes sparkled—no, perhaps it was El herself who was sparkling.
Caron’s face stiffened for a moment as he took in her expression.
It was the first time he had seen El’s face filled with such excitement.
“Then… can I try that?”
Caron’s gaze followed her pointing finger.
At the end of it was a simple street game—placing a ball under one of three cups, shuffling them around, and guessing where it was.
“…Gambling?”
At his mutter, El flinched. Had she chosen something too improper? She’d been told nobles should always maintain dignity.
“Ah, is it not allowed?”
“It is.”
With that brief reply, Caron stepped toward the game stall El had been eyeing.
“One round here.”
“Oh my, the Duke himself?”
“Not me—her.”
Caron nodded toward El.
The shopkeeper quickly prepared the game, showing the ball under a cup with a mischievous grin.
“Here it is.”
“Yes.”
El narrowed her eyes and focused. Soon the shopkeeper’s hands blurred as he shuffled the cups.
Onlookers burst out laughing, saying he was being far too tricky.
Even amidst the noisy chatter, El stood perfectly still, eyes locked on the swiftly moving cups.
“Alright, find it, young lady.”
The shopkeeper proudly set the cups down.
“This one.”
Without hesitation, El pointed to the left cup. The man slowly lifted it—revealing the ball.
“Remarkable! Would you like to continue? If you guess correctly ten times in a row, you’ll win this!”
He held up a ring with a flourish.
Judging from the gasps of the crowd, it was of considerable value.
After a brief thought, El placed her hand on the table.
“I’ll try. Ten times.”
“Excellent! Then let’s begin again!”
More people gathered around. Caron glanced at the swelling crowd and quietly positioned himself behind El.
Completely absorbed in the game, El noticed none of this—her eyes followed only the cups.
Her tutor had once called her a once-in-a-century genius when it came to memorization.
But in truth, El’s true talent lay in something else:
She could capture movements with her eyes at incredible speed.
It was a skill she had honed while surviving in the forest among beasts—you either learned to see that quickly, or you starved.
“The middle one.”
“Correct!”
“Again.”
“Very well!”
As the game went on, the spectators grew more excited, while sweat began to bead on the shopkeeper’s brow.
At the final, tenth round—
“The left one.”
With trembling hands, the man lifted the left cup. A roar of cheers erupted.
“She did it—all ten!”
“How did she follow that?”
“I know, I lost track halfway!”
Though El was the one who had won, it was the crowd that seemed more delighted.
“H-here’s your prize.”
The shopkeeper, sweating profusely, handed her the ring case.
“Thank you.”
Smiling, El accepted the ring and then took out a silver coin from her purse, handing it to him.
“T-this is…?”
“I had fun, so of course I should pay.”
The shopkeeper bowed deeply, clutching the coin.
“Th-thank you, miss!”
“Let’s go, Caron.”
El naturally tugged at his sleeve, and he allowed himself to be led by her gentle pull.
Loosened by the fun, El began to chatter endlessly.
“Oh my, what’s that over there?”
“Candy.”
“Ca… Can I eat it?”
El looked up at him with shining eyes.
At this rate, she might even ask his permission to breathe. Caron sighed softly, then handed her a small pouch of coins.
“Here, take this.”
“This is far too much!”
Peeking inside, El’s eyes widened in alarm, and she quickly tried to give it back.
“Use it as you like, El. Think of it as today’s festival allowance—you’re meant to spend it all.”
Caron firmly pushed it back into her hands.
“Thank you…”
“If you’re thankful, perhaps call me something more familiar.”
“…?”
More familiar than “Lord Caron”?
El tilted her head, confused.
Caron chuckled faintly and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
“You’re the one I cherish, after all.”
But even his beloved butler still called him “master,” didn’t he?
After hesitating, El nervously tried calling his name.
“…Caron.”
“Well done.”
He pressed a light kiss to the back of her hand and smiled slyly.
El thought, if Caron ever truly set his mind to it, he could probably lure all of humanity into hell itself.
“Still, I don’t think it’s proper to address my lord so casually.”
El voiced her meek objection.
She knew Caron.
He was elegant yet fierce, alluring yet so beautiful it inspired reverence.
In history class, she had learned that after the war, the Peiros Dukedom, despite being the greatest war hero, was also heavily targeted by the Empire and the nobles.
Rumors abounded—some even claimed he was a demon.
That someone could be both a “war hero” and “the Empire’s demon” was absurd.
And the one who made that absurdity reality was Caron Peiros.
“First, I am not your lord. Second, I quite like my name. It’s the only thing my mother left me.”
“……”
Caron rested his chin lightly on her frozen shoulder, closing his eyes with almost playful sweetness.
“You don’t like heavy topics, do you, El?”
“That’s not true.”
“Or… are you afraid of getting closer to me?”
“……”
“So that’s the answer.”
“Caron.”
“Disappointing. Didn’t you once say you’d even give me your life?”
“I still would.”
“Don’t. I’d rather see you love me.”
His voice was soft, almost coaxing.
“Caron.”
“Yes?”
“Do you… even love me?”
“No.”
His crisp reply shattered her expression.
So she really was just a noble’s plaything? But though he often teased her, she had never once felt like he was toying with her.
“Then why…”
“Because your love is… unusual.”
If “unusual” meant “special,” would that be so strange?
If her love was unusual enough to matter, why couldn’t he just keep her by his side?
Staring into his face, El muttered:
“In the end, aren’t I someone who’ll be used for a political marriage anyway?”
“…‘Used,’ you say.”
Caron paused, as if thinking.
El held her breath, waiting for his answer.
“For nobles, marriage is an obligation. If one remains single, the imperial family may even force a match.”
“……”
“But I don’t want to marry some woman forced on me by retainers or the crown. I want to choose my partner myself.”
“……”
So that must be Asella Delros.
El knew her name well by now.
The only woman close to Caron Peiros, his trusted friend.
But a question lingered—
if it were Asella, wouldn’t both the retainers and the crown welcome her?
As El struggled with her thoughts, Caron’s lips curved faintly.
“You won’t leave my side, will you? No matter what I do. Even if the whole world turns its back on me.”
“……”
“That’s why your love is so necessary to me. But… isn’t it enough, El?”
“…No.”
In truth, it overflowed.
The problem wasn’t him—but her own greed that still felt it wasn’t enough.
El lowered her head.
Her tutor had once called her a genius, and she’d been proud of it.
But in the end, it had never truly helped him.
And now, she was upset simply because he treated her love like a game—how presumptuous of her.
Quickly gathering herself, El smiled.
“It’s more than enough, Caron. Far too much for me.”
Yes. He was far too much for her. El pressed down the pounding ache in her heart.
This wasn’t the kind of love Caron wanted. So she would show him the kind of love he wished for.
“El.”
“Shall we go see something else? I wanted to try those fruit skewers over there!”
Tugging his sleeve, El pointed excitedly at another stall.
Caron almost said more, but held his tongue and followed her instead.
El laughed and chatted as if nothing had happened, sampling nearly every street food.
“I like that you eat well.”
“Does it make you happy when I do?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll keep eating lots.”
She grinned, popping a mouthful of strawberries into her lips.
Caron would likely never know—
That Ena often helped her manage meals.
That whenever she ate with him at the table, she’d force down the veal placed before her, only to return to her room and throw it all up.
The reason was simple: if Caron had misunderstood, she thought, then she would make it true.
So when he offered her veal, even though she didn’t like it, she never refused.
Even that was too precious to her.
After all, she had lived in a world where even scraps of bread were stolen from her—
and he was the first person to ever offer her food, telling her to eat more.
It was far too precious, far too dear.
(To be continued in the next chapter)
