MMLP 50

chapter 50

“I’m sorry, but I have no intention of letting you control me. Just as you’re using me, I’m using you too.”

I reached out and covered his mouth. With his lower face hidden, his eyes seemed even clearer than before.

But no matter how clear a fake looks, it’s still a fake.

The ripples flickering in those lake-like eyes were surely waves he’d stirred up on purpose.

Turning my head slightly, I drew his gaze toward me.

“It’s raining outside.”

As if to agree with my words, the sudden downpour drummed against the windows.

“Rain’s getting in. I’m cold—won’t you close the window?”

Silence tangled with the sound of rain.

After a long pause, he rose from his seat and walked to the window.

The moment the window shut and the rain’s roar softened, his voice sounded unusually loud.

“You must be tired. Lie down and rest. Should I tell them to bring you food when you get hungry?”

“No. I don’t have much of an appetite right now.”

For me to say I’ve lost my appetite… The day the rain stops, the sun will rise in the west.

“I’m not really not hungry—just… there’s something more important right now.”

He waited with a tense look, but then smiled faintly. It was his usual, familiar smile.

“I’ll send your favorite dish anyway, so eat if you change your mind.”

“How do you know when I’ll feel better? It’d be a waste if I couldn’t finish it.”

“If you can’t, I’ll eat the leftovers. Deal?”

I nodded reluctantly to his persistent insistence.

He left, and before long, a maid entered carrying a tray.

Maybe Rosinante had given her a word, because she just placed it on the table and immediately left the room.

‘Zero’ and ‘one minus one’ may look the same, but there’s a difference between something that never existed and something that existed and disappeared.

“Hey, Zerodines.”

I pinched, smacked, and clenched my hand, but the magic circle on the back of it didn’t react. My left hand only grew redder.

“Are you sulking? Angry? Or did you finally get sick of me and decide to ignore me completely? I don’t care what it is—just say something!”

The steam rising from the food seemed to whisper that ghosts don’t exist.

No—that can’t be. You’ve been with me all along.

A pitiful spirit, who lost its body, forgotten by the world, clinging only to my memory.

Thinking the poor thing might’ve been washed away by the storm, I opened the window and looked out—
but the only thing there was wind and rain, which I’d mistaken for a ghost.

* * *

Words have power.
In my case, maybe thoughts do.

“Aah-choo!”

Since I couldn’t use strong magic for a while, I thought about feigning illness to take it easy. I didn’t actually do it—just thought about it. But somehow, I really did catch a cold.

Rosinante lifted his hand from my forehead after checking my temperature.

“You’ve got quite the fever. Feeling chills?”

“I’m fine since you lit the fire. My cough’s better now than bef—ah-choo! …Maybe not.”

I pressed my back to the headboard. Seeing my weakened state, Rosinante frowned with concern and brushed my hair gently. His touch felt almost healing.

Well, that wasn’t far from the truth—
Even if he’s hiding his identity while acting as my stand-in, this man is from the Holy Nation and knows how to use healing magic.

“Did you take the medicine the physician gave you?”

“Yeah. Next time, could you ask for strawberry flavor? I nearly died from how bitter it was.”

“Even if it’s bitter, bear with it. If you add flavoring, the medicine’s effect will weaken. Then your suffering will just last longer.”

…Of course it will.

Looking at his worried face—knowing he’s actually an Apostle of Light sent from the Holy Nation—made it impossible to see him kindly.

Maybe it was the fever clouding my mind, but I decided to provoke him a little—
the devout agent of the Holy Nation wearing a mask as an Imperial citizen.

“But is this really the best way? If there’s something more effective than medicine, pain like this could vanish like the wind.”

“…”

“Of course, I don’t know much about politics or military strategy. So I can’t understand what the Empire gains by rejecting healing magic and letting its people suffer.”

But I do know.
The Emperor wants the absolute power of domination, and he fears his citizens’ loyalty turning into religious faith. He’s breeding his people like seeds, waiting for the right season to harvest them.

But unfortunately for him, the power he so desperately wants belongs to the male lead.

Even if I don’t tell him, he’ll find out someday—when the time for succession comes.

But…

Huh? Why isn’t he reacting?

I’d said something no true believer of the Holy Nation could ignore.
But instead of a rebuke, he said something completely off-topic.

“I’ll ask the physician if they can make your medicine strawberry-flavored.”

“Uh… what?”

“What’s wrong? Is something the matter?”

“…Maybe.”

“What is it? You can tell me.”

I hesitated, but dragging this out would just make things worse.

“Are you still mad at me… about the princess thing?”

“Mad?”

A sunlit smile spread softly across his surprised face.

“What are you talking about, Revieta? How could I ever be mad at you? No matter what happens, I’d never get angry with you.”

Really?

Even if I report your identity to the Inquisition?
When your mask is torn off someday, what will you feel toward me then?
Hatred, most likely.

But I can’t turn back now.

The only reason I’m staying by his side is because I still believe Zerodines will return.

I smiled weakly.
“Then that’s good. Anyway, don’t you have training?”

“Yeah… I should go.”

“Then go. Don’t just stand there.”

He got up reluctantly, tossed a few more logs into the fire, and glanced back.

“Will you be okay alone?”

“Even Mr. Gilbert doesn’t worry this much. It’s just a cold, Rosy. You know I can use mag—”

I trailed off, looking down at my left hand as I opened and closed it.

If Zerodines really never comes back…

Then…

What will happen to the world?

In my imagination, the Empire burned—ravaged mercilessly by demons and dragons.

Without a Grand Mage, the world would crumble smoothly toward ruin.

When the foundation collapses, my dream of revenge will vanish with it,
and this sham of a marriage to a spy will become a meaningless farce.

My overloaded mind burst with pain.

I kicked off the blanket, jumped out of bed, and grabbed Rosinante’s sleeve.

“Hey, I have a favor to ask.”

He gently held my hand and looked into my eyes.

“Sure. What is it?”

“Make me your shooting star.”

…What? Did you get that from one of those cheesy knight novels you love?

I had my suspicions, but since I was the one asking a favor, I didn’t question it.

“Could you bring me a peach blossom? Just one.”

“There’s some in the garden, but… why a peach blossom all of a sudden?”

Because of the superstition.

Something about peach blossoms—either attracting or repelling spirits… I can’t remember which.

They were opposites, but I couldn’t recall the right one.
And if I asked him directly, he’d question why I wanted to summon or repel spirits, and that’d be trouble.

Fifty-fifty. Let’s gamble.

At that moment, I couldn’t deny that Gilbert’s love of gambling had passed down to me.

“Don’t ask why. It’s just… hard to explain.”

“Okay. I’ll bring you plenty after training.”

“I don’t need that many—just one is fine.”

It’s not like I’m proposing to a ghost.

“Alright. But promise me you’ll stay put and rest. No wandering off somewhere strange again.”

“As if I have anywhere to go. You’re surprisingly clingy, you know that?”

“Only with people I like.”

I didn’t resist when he patted my head.

Even knowing it was all an act, his smile felt warm.

“When you like someone, you remember them longer… and your feelings run deeper.”

Maybe it was because I planned to betray him someday,
but his words sounded like: “I’ll curse you until the day I die.”