Chapter 92
Right after waking, Davin was briefed on everything that had happened to the Ainluk family—and to his son—while he lay unconscious.
It was humiliating, infuriating. Most of all, a cold fury rose in him toward the imperial family, who had used him as a hostage to make endless unreasonable demands on his son.
If Alferen hadn’t broken the engagement first, the thought of the marriage actually going through would have turned his stomach.
Then Alferen spoke.
“We confirmed traces of sorcery in the dragon heart.”
“Sorcery?”
“It’s a type of curse magic that stakes the ice dragon’s life as collateral. It seems the conditions were met when Father shattered the dragon heart.”
Alferen held out a beaker containing the broken dragon heart.
A sorcery array had manifested on the shattered fragments.
Normally the traces would only have appeared upon Davin’s death, but Ordel’s power had revealed them.
“We’re currently tracking the array’s origin. Since it doesn’t appear in any sorcery texts currently in circulation, it seems to be an obsolete variety.”
Alferen continued his report in clipped, formal tones.
“The array is extremely intricate, so we’re proceeding on the assumption that it’s a black-magic curse specialized in malediction.”
The atmosphere between the newly reunited father and son was stiff—hardly warm.
Davin listened in silence, then glanced at his son.
When the boy was with that girl—Rodellia, was it?—his face showed every shade of expression, as if he became a different person altogether.
So he only changes like that in front of her.
The first time Rodellia had abruptly brought up the engagement, Davin had been taken aback.
Looking back, it seemed she’d been trying, in her own way, to lighten the heavy mood.
He ought to tell his son he’d been through a lot.
But seeing Alferen turn stoic again in his presence made the words stick in his throat.
Instead of praise, Davin pointed out what the boy had omitted.
“Contact Duke Lavernin. First confirm whether there were any suspicious traces at the site where the ice dragon appeared or where it was sealed.”
“Yes. I already have. They’re struggling with the search, so I’ve sent support.”
“I see.”
Impressed by the crisp, thorough handling, Davin gave his son’s back a brief tap—almost a pat of approval.
“You did well to keep the ice dragon’s carcass all this time. Thanks to that, evidence remains. Whoever’s behind this must be panicking by now.”
“Actually, the imperial family has repeatedly requested the carcass. A few months ago it was even raised as a condition for the broken engagement.”
The argument with the emperor over that issue had become gossip and caused Rodellia unnecessary worry.
Alferen had eventually settled it by providing the imperial family with the carcass of a different magical beast of equivalent value.
If he had handed over the ice dragon’s body back then, the evidence would have vanished entirely.
Reading his son’s intent, Davin asked indirectly,
“Are you suspecting the imperial family?”
“Of course, the ice dragon’s carcass is an excellent material for business, so it’s natural the imperial family would covet it. Still, if there’s any doubt, I believe it should be investigated.”
From his expression, Alferen seemed half-convinced already, yet he maintained a neutral facade with impressive skill.
The current emperor was politically adept and masterful at exploiting others’ weaknesses.
For such an emperor to demand a six-year-old ice dragon carcass as the price of a broken engagement suggested something pricking his conscience.
Davin felt a quiet pride in how seasoned his son had become over those six years.
“Very well. Handle it as you see fit.”
After that, they exchanged more ordinary conversation.
No apologies, no words of “you’ve had it rough”—a barren exchange, yet Alferen found it familiar, even comfortable.
His father expressed himself through actions rather than words, and Alferen found it easier to deal with him that way too.
A short while later, as the two emerged from the laboratory,
Eden, who had been waiting outside, approached and quietly reported,
“Lady Rodellia visited the Magic Tower earlier.”
At the mention of Rodellia, Alferen’s face lit up.
“Is she in the study?”
It was a stark contrast to the poker face he’d maintained in front of his father moments ago.
“N-no, sir. She was in the laboratory, so she left with Lady Summer.”
“Why with Summer Clopen?”
“I’m not sure about that, sir.”
“Where did they go?”
“I… don’t know that either…”
Eden faltered under the unexpected barrage of questions.
His superior was particularly sensitive whenever Summer Clopen was involved.
Watching all this, Davin asked,
“Is this Summer Clopen a man, by any chance?”
The unprejudiced question made Eden shake his head vigorously.
“No, sir. She’s a woman.”
“Then why are you reacting like that?”
At Davin’s pointed remark, Alferen quickly schooled his features.
He hadn’t realized he’d reacted so excessively.
It was almost an instinctive rejection. Until just days ago, Rodellia had been trying to pair him with Summer.
To Davin, who knew nothing of that, it simply looked like his son was jealous over a woman—like some unhinged fool.
Frowning, he scolded,
“You’ll be engaged soon anyway. Don’t try to control her so much.”
“I’ll handle it myself.”
At Alferen’s stiff reply, Davin gave a snort.
“Fine. I’m sure you’ll manage splendidly.”
The dry tone was so like his own.
He could only feel grateful toward the Duchess Peris, who had stepped forward to take in his ill-tempered son.
* * *
I went to find Summer on the pretext of returning a freshly laundered dress.
“Thank you so much, Duchess. If you’re free, would you like to go out with me?”
It was unexpected that Summer would ask me on what amounted to a date after seeing the cleaned dress.
But I’d been wondering how to strike up a conversation, so it worked out perfectly.
We settled on the terrace of the Winif Café.
Summer murmured with flushed cheeks,
“I’ve heard this place is delicious—I’ve always wanted to try it.”
“You’re lucky, Summer. These terrace seats are usually impossible to get.”
“You’re right. I’ve been really lucky lately.”
Summer fiddled shyly with her straw.
She seemed to have something she wanted to say, so I waited until she spoke.
“Actually, I don’t know many people in the capital. So even when I want to visit places like this, it’s not easy.”
In the original story, she never quite adjusted to the capital either.
As a provincial noble, she had no circle to welcome her, and Nanael had marked her as an enemy.
Her face looked so lonely that I couldn’t help feeling a pang of sympathy—yet it was also the perfect opening for probing.
I shifted in my chair and asked casually,
“You said this is your first time in the capital?”
“Well… I stayed here briefly when I was little. My aunt lived nearby.”
“Oh, really? Then you must have had friends from back then?”
“Hmm, I’m not sure.”
Summer gazed out the window, lost in thought.
Just then, someone on crutches passed by.
As if it sparked a memory, she said wistfully,
“Now that I think about it, I once helped an injured child. We met often until I left the capital.”
Oh—so soon?
I added gentle encouragement to make it easier for her to continue.
“Then that child must have been a friend.”
“Maybe. But honestly, I don’t remember their face very well. I only recall that their eyes were black as the night sky.”
As expected, Summer didn’t remember Edwin clearly.
In the original story, she only recalled those pitch-black eyes and nothing more of him.
By contrast, Edwin remembered everything vividly—the color of the clothes Summer wore that day, the weather, the place.
That’s the careless side of a sunshine heroine.
For her, helping someone like Edwin was just another everyday act of kindness—an event from so long ago it barely registered.
If the two of them met like this now, it would only give Edwin another reason to darken.
I narrowed the scope to help her remember him.
“But it sounds like the child was badly hurt. How did you meet?”
