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Chapter 1
It was purely by chance that I discovered his secret.
Even though a week had passed, there was no trace of the wounds that had been on his face.
Did he have some kind of monstrous healing ability?
Pavel seemed far too composed for someone whose secret had been found out. On the contrary, I was the one who felt parched from the shock of knowing it.
“Giselle doesn’t know that I enjoy fighting.”
I had no idea why he suddenly brought up Giselle. As I furrowed my brows slightly, Pavel made a shocking proposal.
“So I want you to treat my wounds from now on.”
“…Excuse me, what did you just say?”
Without a doubt, that was the most absurd thing I had ever heard from him.
He wanted me to treat his wounds? I had no such ability. Nor any reason to.
“The court magicians are a bit troublesome when it comes to keeping their mouths shut.”
Which meant that he already had magicians who could heal his wounds.
…No, wait, but I’m not even a magician.
“I’m not a magician.”
“Lies.”
That time, I felt a little wronged. Sure, Chadwick once said I was a magician, but that was all.
If everyone with even the faintest trace of mana was considered a magician, then there would be far more of them in the palace.
“…Hm. Maybe you’re not lying this time.”
As if he’d read the frustration on my face, he muttered to himself.
“I’m really not a magician.”
Why did everyone insist on calling me one?
While he remained silent, as though gauging the truth of my words, Pavel suddenly seized my hand. I had thought him to be cold, but to my surprise, his hand was full of warmth.
“Just imagine healing me.”
“…Your Highness, I truly am not a magician. Besides, you don’t even have any wounds right n—ah!”
My small cry was drowned in the surrounding noise. In the blink of an eye, Pavel drew a dagger from his breast and nicked his own cheek.
Even as I stared, stunned, with my mouth agape, blood welled from the fine cut on his cheek. It was only a small wound, but I had never expected him to injure himself so readily.
“Now then, since there’s a wound, shall we try healing it?”
His voice carried a trace of amusement.
It was hard to believe this was the same man who had just cut his own face without hesitation.
“To me, you look every bit a magician.”
“I really…”
“Not enough proof? Should I make a bigger wound?”
He looked ready to slash himself again at any moment, so I quickly waved my hands in panic.
He had already proven he was more than willing to do it.
Pavel’s dark green eyes gleamed, as if he was expecting something from me.
This is ridiculous.
Even as I lifted my hand to his face, I muttered it inwardly. There was no way I could heal a wound.
I didn’t know what gave Pavel such confidence in me, but whatever it was, he was wrong. Slowly, I began to calm down.
Right. It’s not like he said he’d kill me if I failed to heal him.
He wouldn’t dare kill me here in such a crowded place—at least, that was my faint hope.
As my hand trembled, Pavel grasped my wrist firmly. As though to soothe me, he brushed the inside of my wrist with his thumb.
Soothe me? Impossible.
A dagger wrapped in velvet is no less sharp.
Either way, there was no way for me to shake him off and escape. He pulled my wrist closer until my fingertips touched his wound.
“Heal me.”
The command was hard and cold. I knew nothing of magic, and so there was only one thing I could do: wish with all my heart that what he wanted might somehow happen.
But seconds passed, and nothing happened. The tavern’s noise buzzed around us like an echo.
Pavel’s face twisted in frustration as he waited for mana to flow from my hand.
See? There’s no way I can heal.
At the same time, I felt a rush of relief. The noise between us swelled, filling the gap.
“You’re not refusing on purpose, are you?”
“I’m not bold enough to defy Your Highness’s orders.”
“And yet, you often seem to ignore my words.”
With a disappointed sigh, Pavel released my hand.
The heat he’d left behind seemed to bloom across my skin, and I quickly hid my hand beneath the table to shake off the strange sensation.
Still, he looked at me steadily, as though suspicious of something.
“I don’t know what misunderstanding you have, but I am not a mag—”
The words stumbled back into my mouth. No—that couldn’t be…
Right before my eyes, the wound was closing.
I couldn’t believe it, even as I watched.
“I’d call that a success, wouldn’t you?”
Pavel touched his cheek with his fingers, as though to confirm the strange sensation of the wound healing. Finding the skin perfectly smooth, he smiled in satisfaction.
“That… what… no, this…”
I stammered, too shocked to speak properly, while he calmly took my glass and drank my share of the liquor as well.
“Don’t believe it? Shall we try again?”
Knowing all too well that he was serious, I hurriedly shook my head.
“Then I’ll be counting on you from now on.”
“I—I… I’m supposed to be leaving for convalescence.”
I protested timidly. It wasn’t an excuse—it was the truth. He knew of my plan as well.
I was meant to disappear so as not to trouble Erdone any longer. It was escape disguised as convalescence, but wasn’t that what he had wanted too?
“Ah, right.”
He nodded, as though he had completely forgotten.
From afar, Pavel always seemed like a man who drew his lines clearly. Even from behind his lines, he had the power to control people with ease.
But now, those lines of his seemed strangely blurred.
His face, usually so neat, ascetic, and almost holy, looked unexpectedly softer, looser today.
Unwillingly, I felt as though I had stepped inside his boundary, like a small creature trapped without a way to escape.
“Then stay in Erdone with me.”
I could hear the sound of my perfectly laid plans shattering into pieces.
Why are you doing this to me all of a sudden?!
Without even realizing it, Pavel had utterly wrecked my plans, and seemed almost impressed with his own thoughtfulness.
I learned the reason why my life had been filled only with misfortune one day.
In a dream, I remembered my previous life, and realized I had transmigrated into one of the novels I once read.
It didn’t take me long to understand that my existence was nothing more than a narrative device for Giselle’s happiness.
<My Happy Ending>
As the title suggests, the story’s conclusion was solely for the heroine, Giselle.
In the novel, Giselle was tormented by the obsessive love of the two male leads, and in the end, she chose both of them. The men, unwilling to lose her, respected her decision, but were also tormented by the fact of having to share the woman they loved.
And I, Saya Erdone, was Giselle’s adopted younger sister. I was a petty villainess who harbored an unrequited love for one of the male leads, Kirill, and tormented Giselle out of jealousy and hatred.
And I was fated to be killed by one of the male leads.
To escape that gruesome death, I had to get as far away from Giselle as possible—so my life would not become a steppingstone for her happiness.
Even this confession was part of that plan: to make sure Kirill had no lingering feelings toward me.
“Thank you for coming.”
“Say what you want. Get to the point.”
Once, his indifferent tone would have hurt me. But that was before I knew my fate. My love could never come true anyway.
This world belonged only to Giselle. Hoping for Giselle’s male lead, Kirill, to love me was the height of stupidity.
“As you said, I’ll get straight to the point. I don’t have much time.”
“…”
Even at my words, his face remained expressionless. Damn it—just that familiar look still stabbed at my chest.
Good. At least now, I’ll have no regrets.
I cleared my throat. Even though I had steeled my heart, putting into action something I had only ever imagined made me nervous.
But it would take no more than five seconds. There was no need to be nervous.
Taking one last breath, I let it out like a long-held sigh, and confessed:
“I like you. Not as a friend, but as someone I want to marry.”
“…”
As I expected, he didn’t answer.
A crack appeared in his expression. I hadn’t foreseen that he would look this displeased, but I pressed on firmly.
“Of course, you probably already knew. I’m saying this so you’ll lose any last bit of affection for me. Thank you for everything until now, and I promise you—we’ll never see each other again.”
“…That’s all you called me out for?”
To me, it was far from trivial, but I nodded.
“What is it this time? Trying to provoke guilt so I’ll give you my pity?”
Considering my past misdeeds, it wasn’t strange for him to think so. I neither confirmed nor denied it. It was all a waste of time.
“That’s all I had to say. Thanks for sparing the time.”
“…I didn’t know.”
“…?”
“I didn’t know you liked me.”
His words left me utterly taken aback.
