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Chapter 27
“My, my. You look terribly tired. Let’s have you sleep first, and once your mind is clear, we’ll talk again, Lev.”
Her voice was soft, almost soothing, but the smile at her lips carried a threat—
a promise that if he didn’t fall asleep now, she’d make sure he slept forever.
“You… you…”
Lev’s frail resistance sputtered and died.
Moments later.
Once she confirmed Lev had fallen into a deep sleep, the tension bled from Valentina’s body. She staggered back, collapsing onto a chair, eyes fixed on him. Then suddenly, panic seized her—she shot up and pressed a trembling hand under his nose.
Luckily, he was still breathing.
“Who the hell sleeps like they’re already dead? Scared me half to death.”
Sinking once more into the chair, Valentina buried her face in her hands.
Her voice, muffled through her fingers, carried a weariness far too heavy for her young age.
“The people in this house… they’re all strange.”
Rodion Vladyzev, who claimed they’d use each other but showered her with undeserved kindness.
Astiya Vladislav, whose uncanny intuition she couldn’t read as either blessing or curse.
And Lev Vladyzev, that sickly brat bedridden in front of her—
yet the only one who pierced through her disguise in a single glance.
There was no room for carelessness.
As though sharing her unease, Rose, the little fennec fox spirit, tugged gently at her sleeve.
The boy who lived with thorns like poisoned rose stems softened, scratching Rose’s chin and forcing a faint smile.
“Don’t worry, Rose.”
His other hand clutched at his chest as though tearing out his heart.
“I’ll survive. No matter what.”
Meanwhile.
“So, you’re saying Valentina becomes best friends with Lev oppa?”
At that time, Tiya was receiving a report from Winter.
<Yes. From what I know, she stays in the mansion for about six months. After Lev Vladyzev dies, she returns south.>
“…She went back right after he died?”
<That’s right. Officially, she’s here as his playmate. But from Rodion’s attitude, it looks more like he brought her here to easily acquire medicinal herbs for his brother.>
Winter paused in thought.
‘Now that I recall… even before I inherited the Grand Duke’s title, the family head changed hands once. The current Duke Dantal is killed about six months from now, isn’t he?’
Could there be a connection?
Unfortunately, Winter knew nothing more about House Dantal or Valentina.
“But Winter, how do you know all this? Didn’t you always live up north?”
<…I heard it from your future self.>
“I knew it! Winter, I’ve thought this for a while… you’re hiding something from me, aren’t you?”
He was hiding more than a little, but Winter feigned ignorance.
<What are you talking about?>
“I already figured it out. Heh heh, the result of my genius deduction!”
Tiya puffed out her chest proudly, hands on her hips.
She ran through her logic, sharpened by Winter’s own lessons:
-
Winter knows all about my future.
-
Winter knows all about my childhood.
-
And I… like Winter!
“Three clues, one truth!”
“Winter was my best friend in the future!”
<No. I hated her.>
“…Oh. Then… we were destined rivals?”
<No. I hated her.>
What the hell had her future self done to make Winter hate her that much?
Tiya’s heart crumpled, but she pressed on, stubbornly.
“Then… will you be my friend now?”
<No.>
Three strikes. Yet the last refusal only fanned the flames of her pride.
“Really? Not even if I give you heart-attacks with my cuteness?”
<You can’t even touch me. And your heart attack isn’t worth it.>
What a cruel thing to say!
“Humph! Fine, be that way. When the blockade lifts, I’ll track down little Winter and make her my best friend instead! Don’t come begging me later to be included.”
<Do as you please.>
His blasé tone stoked her competitive streak.
“Just you wait. I’ll win little Winter over and make her my bestie!”
Snorting, Tiya suddenly paused, sneaking a glance upward at Winter.
‘I wonder… what does Winter even look like?’
She had never seen his face. All she knew—
“Though the direct Vladyzev line was wiped out, I, a branch member, became head. But by then… it was already too late.”
—that Winter had been born of a branch family.
Tiya had never met her branch relatives before. She’d asked around a few times, hoping maybe there were cousins her age, but servants only dodged the question.
Once, she even begged her grandmother, who gave a single answer:
“They were all sent far abroad.”
Abroad, huh… She’d given up at the time.
But to think, a cousin had been right beside her all along!
With that clue in mind, she imagined Winter’s face.
‘He must have pitch-black hair… a face scrunched up with meanness… maybe even freckles. And his eyes… what color would they be?’
As her imagination whirred, they finally arrived at their destination.
<Why are we in the kitchen?>
“I want to throw Valentina a welcome party! To say thank you and make her feel at home. And for that, I need the best cake ever!”
More than anything, Tiya believed Valentina would stay with them for a long time.
Because now, Lev was invincible.
She couldn’t erase the boy’s longing for his lost family—
but at least, while Valentina stayed at the Vladizev mansion, she wanted this place to be another home for her.
Just as the northern Frost Fortress had become another home for Tiya.
That same day happened to be Lev’s sixth birthday.
He had wished with all his heart as he blew out the candles, but ended up vomiting everything back up.
The wishes felt sullied, no better than bile.
His mother’s thin hand brushed his tear-stung eyes, gentle as always.
“Mama will cast a spell for you. When I lift this hand, your wishes will come true.”
“Really? All of them?”
“Mm… not all. Maybe three.”
“Three’s fine!”
The six-year-old Lev had clutched her hand tight and counted together.
“One…”
But ten-year-old Lev knew how the dream ended.
His mother didn’t survive the autumn.
He never suddenly grew strong enough to carry Tiya on his shoulders.
The palace didn’t crumble so that his father could spend all day with family.
And no magical friend appeared in his life.
“Two…”
Yet still, he couldn’t stop himself from hoping.
“Three!”
The warmth left his eyes as her hand slipped away, and the world grew bright again.
“Did you sleep well?”
The first thing he saw was the face he hated most in his ten years of life—
that disgustingly beautiful girl.
The dream’s aftertaste left him bitter as bile. He spat the words out.
“…Worst day ever.”
In the armchair, Valentina flipped through a flora guide as though nothing had happened, still unbearably lovely.
But her face in the evening glow wasn’t the docile mask she had shown before.
Her expression was cold, petulant. Her crossed legs and upright posture radiated subtle defiance.
Lev realized—this must be the real Valentina.
Keeping one hand close to the bell rope, ready to pull in case of emergency, he asked:
“Hey, just one question.”
“I’ll answer, if you’ll answer mine.”
“…Are you some kind of pervert?”
“….”
Thud.
Valentina snapped her book shut and turned to him.
Her eyes darkened, as deep and old as a well.
