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chapter 47
The chill of the water vanished in an instant. Whether it was because of Rinka’s words, or because he simply had nothing more to show, she didn’t know—but only after confirming that this was indeed Ananta’s bedchamber did Rinka finally let out a deep sigh of relief.
Ananta’s face looked calm as ever, but his body was clearly weak. Rinka pulled him gently and laid him back down on the bed.
He didn’t even blink—just watched her quietly.
Rinka narrowed her eyes and asked,
“Does your body hurt?”
“It doesn’t. On the contrary, I feel comfortable.”
“You’re lying—pretending someone else’s body isn’t in pain.”
“I’m telling the truth.”
“You really don’t look well. Please, just stay still, will you?”
By now, there was no doubt—this wasn’t Ananta. It was something else.
Something that kept insisting she had betrayed it.
And because she was starting to understand what that something was, she didn’t want to dig any deeper.
Whatever it was, it was still using Ananta’s body, and if he wandered around in that frail state, it would only make things worse.
His body temperature was still unnervingly cold under her fingertips.
Is it his body that’s weak… or is it because of this being?
It was frustrating not knowing the answer. She’d thought about using a binding spell to test what was happening when he wasn’t Ananta—but worried something could go terribly wrong, she decided to wait.
He stared at her in silence for a long moment before finally speaking.
“Rinka Meribel.”
“Yes?”
“Your name has changed. Everything else is the same, but that’s different.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Her tone made it clear she didn’t mean it. He must have realized that too, because he gave a dry, incredulous laugh.
“Aren’t you curious about your old name?”
Rinka blinked. In ordinary circumstances, she might have been. But right now—Ananta’s body was possessed, he was ill, and she didn’t even understand what was happening. Knowing some past name wasn’t going to fix any of that.
Still, the way his eyes met hers—it was as if they were trying to say something.
Eyes darker and deeper than Ananta’s had ever been.
“I’ll listen once you’re better.”
“…Once I’m better.”
“Yes. When you’re well again, I’ll hear you out. Your story, your name, even your wish—anything.”
She patted his shoulder gently. For the first time, it felt like a bit of warmth seeped into that cold body.
“So please, stay still and rest.”
“But I—”
“Even if you’re fine, my fiancé’s body isn’t, all right?”
At that, he froze for a moment. Then, finally, he looked away from her and lay back properly.
“Fiancé, huh…”
He muttered the word softly, and though she couldn’t tell what he felt about it, Rinka was relieved to see him finally calm down.
At least that bought her a few minutes.
She kept an eye on him as she poured out the herbal tea she’d brewed earlier to help with fevers.
She was debating whether it was safe to give him something that had already cooled when he spoke again, eyes still closed.
“I’ll tell you an old story. One so ancient that no one in the sea remembers it anymore.”
“Only if it doesn’t hurt your throat,” she said.
“You really don’t have a kind bone in your body. The girl back then spoke to me so sweetly.”
That’s because she knew you. I don’t.
Rinka wanted to snap back, but she held her tongue and quietly poured the tea into a cup.
Half of her thought—maybe, just maybe—something in his story would give her a clue on how to bring Ananta back.
“You’ve heard of the sea monster, haven’t you, Rinka?”
“The one that devours half-formed mermaids?”
“Yes.”
Her father, Iden, had once told her that story—that was the other half of why she listened.
“They say what he truly wanted wasn’t to eat the mermaids.”
“He?”
“That’s what we called him.”
Him.
Iden had said that it had been ages since anyone had seen him in the sea. After his final roar had echoed through the waters—“One day, I’ll find that half-breed mermaid and kill her”—he’d vanished without a trace.
Some said the monster had died. Others said he was merely sleeping, waiting for the mermaid to appear again.
So did he die… or not? she’d once asked.
Iden had only said that his last roar had drifted across the western sea for years—until, one day, it simply disappeared.
“So… the monster vanished?”
“It’s possible. But no one knows for sure.”
“Not one thing in this story is clear.”
“The only sure thing,” he said, “is that you must stay cautious. The monster can take human form, but he can’t stray too far from the sea. So—”
“…”
“Live as far from the sea as you can.”
As she recalled her father’s words, Rinka studied the man’s sharp features, the slow, deliberate way he spoke.
Why had the monster hated that half-mermaid so much?
And why had he searched for her so desperately?
“There was once a man,” he began. “Very old. He was the king of the western sea, and no one dared challenge his throne.”
“Sounds impressive. Just—don’t strain your voice.”
“One day, a woman came to him. Talkative, like you.”
“…”
“Her hair was so bright and golden it hurt to look at.”
He opened his eyes for a brief moment to glance at Rinka, then shut them again, clearly lost in memory.
It must have been from before—before whatever terrible thing had happened between them.
“She was nameless, yet so brazen.”
A faint smile touched his lips.
No matter how you looked at him, his expression didn’t belong to someone remembering someone he wanted dead. It was wistful… sorrowful.
Rinka didn’t want to know what he truly desired—but she could already guess.
Why he’d been searching for that mermaid all this time.
No. Even if I’m also a half-mermaid, that doesn’t mean I can accept it.
“That foolish girl dared to touch my reverse scale.”
Rinka nearly choked.
His reverse scale?
She knew what that meant—she’d killed sea beasts before and sold their reverse scales. It was like their heart—sacred, vital, the one part that must never be touched.
“Your… reverse scale?”
“Yes. She said it glittered beautifully, and begged to touch it—just once. She didn’t even know who I was.”
Rinka was speechless for a moment.
So reckless. So fearless.
“She must’ve been very brave,” Rinka finally managed.
“Rude, rather. She didn’t know the sea. Didn’t even know what she herself was, because no one had ever raised her.”
His voice grew slower, softer—almost like a lullaby. Rinka set down the teacup and sat beside the bed.
The mattress dipped slightly under her weight.
“She loved drifting through clear waters, letting the gentle currents carry her. Her golden hair sparkled like sunlight on the waves. And every fool who saw it was enchanted.”
She hadn’t known what she was.
And he—he couldn’t forgive himself for being one of those fools.
Suddenly, his long fingers shot out and clamped around her wrist. The chill of his skin hit first—then the strange heat in his eyes.
“Maybe that’s when it began. Maybe she approached me just to betray me.”
“Wait—what are you—!”
“To betray me. To steal my reverse scale.”
“Let me go!”
She struggled, but she couldn’t overpower Ananta’s strength. Frowning, Rinka braced herself—if he went any further, she’d have to—
“Why did you betray me?”
“W–wait.”
“Answer me.”
She was about to invoke a spell—or summon her pearl—when she froze.
“…Are you crying?”
The beautiful man before her—her fiancé’s face, streaked with tears—was crying.
And at that sight, Rinka was left completely speechless.
