IWAPUF 32

“Your grandfather would understand,” I said.
“At first…” Evan began.
As I started to turn away, he reached out to stop me. His steady gray eyes locked onto mine,
unwavering and clear.
“At first, I only intended to follow because it was Count Pison’s wish,” he said.
I fell silent, unsure of what he meant. His words hung in the air, and I couldn’t quite grasp what he
was trying to express. He continued, his voice calm and measured.
“Do you know when I first saw you, my lady?”
“Wasn’t it the day my grandfather passed away?” I replied.
He shook his head.
*Not that day?* The thought jolted me. I was certain I’d first seen Evan on the day my grandfather
died. I had no recollection of meeting him before that.
“I once accompanied Count Pison to the Eliont estate,” he said. “It was the day of Marchioness
Eliont’s funeral.”
“Ah!”
A memory flickered to life, sudden and sharp. A boy—no, perhaps a young man—catching my
grandfather as he stumbled, on the verge of collapse. His face eluded me, lost to time, but those
piercing gray eyes that had stared into mine burned vividly in my mind.
“Even amidst the whispering crowd, there was a girl standing tall and resolute,” Evan said. “She
left a deep impression on me.”
His eyes, usually sharp and edged due to their lack of double lids, softened as he spoke, the
corners curving gently.
“I knew at once that she was the girl I had to protect.”
He slowly curled his hand into a fist, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips.
“I couldn’t help but want to shield her—a girl standing alone among people who didn’t bother to
hide their malice. It wasn’t at anyone’s request. It was my own will.”
“You mean that girl was me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Evan’s gaze returned to me, steady and resolute, a quiet determination shimmering in his eyes.
“Please, allow me to honor the oath I made in my youth, my lady.”
He bowed low, extending his hand toward me. His gesture spoke of a path he’d chosen for himself,
a conviction I couldn’t bring myself to refuse.
“I gladly accept your oath, my knight,” I said.
Gently, I placed my hand atop his, feeling the warmth of his resolve beneath my fingers.
—
I stepped out of the building, Evan at my side, his courteous escort a steady presence. With a
subtle gesture, he signaled for someone to fetch the carriage. Standing beside him, I tilted my head
back to gaze at the sky. The sun had already begun its descent, tipping toward the horizon in a
wash of amber. I must have lingered here longer than I’d intended.
“I’m sorry, my lady,” Evan said. “It seems you’ll have to wait a little.”
It was sunset, and the streets were alive with the clamor of carriages as people hastened home. In
such chaos, preparing a carriage quickly was no easy task. The fault was mostly mine—I hadn’t
thought to specify when I’d leave. Still, watching Evan fumble with apologies, his usual
composure unraveling, brought a smile to my lips.
“You seem to apologize every time we meet, Master Evan,” I teased.
“I’m sor—ah, no…” He stumbled over his words, caught off guard, floundering for a response.
Through his short-cropped hair, the tips of his ears flushed a vivid red. I couldn’t hold back my
laughter, the sound spilling out bright and unrestrained. He blinked at me, bewildered by my
amusement.
“Suddenly, I’m reminded of something Anasha said,” I remarked.
According to Anasha, Evan was typically stoic, decisive in his actions, almost inhuman at
times—as if you could prick him with a needle and not draw a single drop of blood.
I could see where the stoicism came from; his stern features naturally lent him an air of
detachment. But the rest? That didn’t match the Evan I knew. The Evan Anasha described and the
one standing before me felt like entirely different people.
She’d laughed once, telling me that this softer side of him—this rare, unguarded warmth—was a
sight reserved solely for me. More than that, she’d said his greatest concern was my safety.
I remembered the time I’d leaned in to study Rai’s eyes more closely. Evan had grabbed my arm
without thinking, worried I’d be frightened by what I saw.
His instinct wasn’t misplaced. Most people froze in terror the moment they glimpsed an Inayari’s
transformed eyes. Especially up close, as I had been, the sight could spark outright panic.
It was only natural. Eyes that looked human one moment, only to shift in an instant into something
otherworldly—how could anyone not feel dread? I’d been no exception. The first time I’d seen an
Inayari’s eyes, fear had gripped me so tightly I couldn’t even scream.
But when I looked into Rai’s eyes, I hadn’t been consumed by panic. Instead, my mind had leapt
straight to the Inayari. Because I’d seen eyes like those before.
Pupils that contracted vertically in a heartbeat, irises glowing a fierce red, and…
“My lady!” Evan’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and urgent.
I clutched my head, a throbbing pain surging through my skull. The moment I recalled those
Inayari eyes from my past, it felt as though dozens of needles stabbed into my brain.
Back then, my world had been confined to the Eliont estate and the imperial palace. I’d been
utterly devoted to the Crown Prince, blind to everything else. I avoided the tea parties noble ladies
attended to forge connections, skipped every palace event the Crown Prince didn’t grace with his
presence.
Given that, the odds of me encountering an Inayari anywhere beyond the Eliont estate or the
palace were slim to none.
As far as I knew, no Inayari had ever officially set foot in the palace. They rarely strayed from
their desert homeland in the west, venturing out only to raid the bordering regions before
vanishing again. They never lingered elsewhere.
To the empire’s citizens—especially the nobility—Inayari weren’t even human. They were
monsters, feared and reviled. If one had been in the palace, whispers would have raced through the
court like wildfire.
The same held true for the Eliont estate. If an Inayari had been there, I’d have known. Back then,
I’d left the estate for the palace on the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, a milestone already
behind me. So it couldn’t have been at the Eliont estate that I’d seen those eyes.
*Then where had I seen them?*
I strained to remember, but nothing surfaced. A cold shiver crawled up my spine. There was a hole
in my memory—not a faded recollection blurred by time, but a precise, unnatural absence, as if
someone had carved that piece away and left it eerily blank.
I carried not just Beonne’s memories, but Ijia’s as well—two lifetimes woven into one. I didn’t
recall every trivial detail, but this gap was different. It was too clean, too deliberate.
Just as ordinary people recall their childhood through a handful of vivid memories, I carry the
weight of two lives in my mind. I remember only the pivotal moments that turned the course of
those lives—moments of joy, sorrow, or anguish so intense they seared themselves into my soul.
Inayari’s eyes are not the kind that can be easily forgotten. Even if I had somehow let them slip
from my memory, the moment I saw Lai’s eyes, they should have come rushing back. Yet, until
that instant, I hadn’t even noticed the unease of their absence, the void where those memories
should have been.
Something was wrong with my recollection.
“My lady, are you all right? Perhaps we should call for a physician…”
Evan’s strong arms steadied my faltering body. I gripped his arm, leaning my head against his
chest. The harder I tried to summon the memory, the more my head throbbed, as if resisting the
effort.
“This won’t do. I’ll apologize for the impropriety later.”
Before I could protest, Evan’s words were followed by the sensation of my body being lifted into
the air. His firm arms supported my back and thighs. He began to move—or at least, he tried to.
“What is the meaning of this?”
A voice, cold as frost, sliced through the air. Evan froze mid-step. My face was pressed against his
chest, his arms holding me so tightly I couldn’t turn my head. But I didn’t need to see to know
who it was. That voice was unmistakable.
“Why is my fiancée in the arms of another man?”
Despite the lightness of his tone, the Crown Prince’s voice carried an icy edge. I squirmed,
signaling for Evan to put me down, but instead of complying, he tightened his grip.
“Step aside,” Evan said firmly.
“Ha!”
The Crown Prince’s sharp exclamation was followed by the unmistakable sound of a sword being
drawn from its scabbard—not one, but several. I felt Evan’s body stiffen against mine.
“Evan!”
A silver blade glinted near his neck, a thin line of crimson blood trickling from where it grazed his
skin. I called his name urgently, but he didn’t budge.
“I’d appreciate it if you returned my fiancée,” the Crown Prince said, his voice now colder than
ever.
I called out again, “Evan, put me down.”
“You need to see a physician first,” he replied, unyielding.
The blade pressed deeper, the wound widening as more blood flowed. It was because Evan had
spoken, his throat moving against the edge.
“I’m fine. Please, put me down.”
Evan’s gray-blue eyes met mine, resolute with determination. He would not set me down until we
reached a physician. Left with no choice, I resorted to my final measure.
“That’s an order, Evan.”
He hesitated for only a moment before his arms relaxed, carefully lowering me to the ground. As
he moved, the swords at his neck drew back slightly, though their blades remained poised, still
aimed at him.
“How exactly am I to understand this situation, Bii?”
The Crown Prince’s voice was soft as he addressed me, but his eyes burned with a fierce, almost
predatory intensity, as if they’d swallowed flames. He stepped closer, each movement deliberate.
Evan instinctively moved to block his path, and in an instant, three blades pressed against Evan’s
neck once more. Blood dripped from the wound, staining his shirt red and pooling on the ground
below.
“Lower your swords, Your Highness,” I said.
“And why should I?”
The Crown Prince’s lips curled into a smile, radiant yet utterly incongruous with the tension of the
moment. I stepped past Evan, closing the distance between myself and the Crown Prince until
only a single step separated us. Looking up at him, I spoke.
“Because I ask it of you.”
“Oh, Bii. You are cunning, aren’t you?”
His smile deepened, but his eyes still blazed. He raised a hand, cupping my cheek.
“Care to offer an explanation, Bii?”
“Why should I need to explain myself?”
His thumb slowly traced the curve of my lips, the touch stirring a strange, unsettling sensation.
The upward tilt of his mouth faltered, softening into a straight line.
“You were in another man’s arms, right in front of your fiancé, and you claim you have no
explanation to give?”
“I don’t feel the need to justify—ah!”
Before I could finish, the world tilted. In an instant, I was slung over his shoulder like a sack of
grain. I thrashed desperately, but his voice cut through my protests.
“Be still. Unless you’d prefer to make a spectacle, I won’t stop you.”
I stopped struggling, letting my body go limp. Lately, it seemed my life was a string of such
absurd moments, and I couldn’t fathom why. All I could do was hope the Crown Prince would
reach his destination quickly.
It wasn’t long before he climbed into a carriage, still carrying me over his shoulder. To my
surprise, it wasn’t the ornate carriage of the imperial palace but a plain one, the kind a commoner
might ride. He set me down roughly, and the hard seat of the carriage jolted against my hips,
sending a dull ache through me. I winced.
The Crown Prince sat across from me. As soon as he settled, the carriage lurched into motion.
Despite its unassuming exterior, it moved with the smooth grace of a noble’s carriage, barely
swaying.
“Do you even think at all?” he demanded, his voice erupting as if he’d been holding back a storm
of anger. He tore off his cloak and flung it aside—a plain brown garment, the kind worn by
commoners.
I took in his appearance, struck by how unlike himself he looked. The gray shirt and worn black
boots were far from the finery he usually wore.
“Are you even listening to me?” he snapped.
“I don’t understand why you’re so angry,” I replied.
“Ha!”
His expression was one of utter disbelief.