Chapter 110: Repayment
“Are you still feeling sorry for me?”
“I’m always sorry when it comes to you,” Damian replied without hesitation, his voice heavy with sincerity.
To him, Aracila was a source of endless apologies—dragging her into his family’s messy conflicts, breaking their contract by harboring feelings he shouldn’t. At least he was relieved he’d never voiced those feelings to her directly.
Unaware of the turmoil in his heart, Aracila fixed him with an unwavering gaze, pressing further.
“Even though it’s not your fault, you feel that sorry? Sorry enough to do everything I ask and take care of me like this?”
Truth be told, she hadn’t expected Damian to tend to her with such devotion. She’d thought to tease him a bit and leave it at that, but he was far more earnest than she’d anticipated. The doting husband act he put on in public carried over seamlessly when they were alone.
Just how guilty did he feel to act this way?
Her clear, questioning eyes met his, and Damian spoke slowly.
“Yes, I’m sorry. But it’s not just guilt that drives me.”
“Then what is it?”
“I simply want to treat you well,” he said, his low voice resonating softly.
Their marriage had begun as a calculated contract, but now, he found himself wanting to give her everything without expecting anything in return. Since he’d already violated the terms of their agreement, he at least wanted to ensure Aracila suffered as little loss as possible when it ended.
“Why do you want to treat me well?”
Damian didn’t answer immediately. He finished massaging her leg, then gently pulled the hem of her dress back down to her knees.
Aracila’s eyes followed his every movement with determination. If he left without answering, she was ready to hobble after him on her injured leg.
Fortunately, Damian didn’t evade her question. As he straightened a crooked pillow, he spoke calmly.
“Because you’re special to me.”
His hand rested on the pillow beside her. The bed dipped slightly under his weight, and Aracila looked up at him quietly.
Even from this angle, Damian’s face was flawless, his eyes like the blazing sun at high noon, fixed on her with unwavering intensity.
“I want you to be free from pain, from hurt. I want you to always be smiling.”
His whispered words sounded calm on the surface, but there was a restrained depth to them, as if heavy emotions were buried beneath, like mud clinging to the roots of a blooming lotus.
Overwhelmed by the weight of his enigmatic gaze, Aracila found herself speechless, holding her breath.
Damian’s fingers brushed against the pale purple hair spilling across the white pillow, lifting a strand to his lips in a gentle kiss.
“Even if that’s selfish of me, that’s how I feel. I owe you so much, and I’m sorry for so much.”
Ending the conversation there, he reached for the edge of the blanket she lay on and pulled it over her, tucking her in completely before standing.
Aracila, staring at him in a daze, blinked in flustered surprise.
“Rest for a bit,” he said, then swiftly left the room.
Left alone, wrapped snugly in the blanket, Aracila mulled over his words.
He said I’m special to him?
Suddenly, she recalled what Paula had said earlier while giving her the get-well gift.
“By the way, Sir Vandemir really seems to care about you. Even when he was sparring verbally with Frederick, he kept checking on you. He brought you more dessert when you finished, made sure your teacup didn’t tip over. And above all, it was the way he looked at you—like you mean the world to him.”
“Did he?”
“Yeah. The way he looked at you was so warm, like he truly cherishes you.”
She’d brushed off her friend’s words at the time, but now they lingered, tugging at her thoughts.
Aracila tried to recall the way Damian had looked at her. Those golden eyes, once so cold, had softened over time, glowing like a wheat field bathed in autumn sunlight.
The thought that his tender gaze might stem from seeing her as someone special sent a strange tickle through her chest.
Clutching the blanket tightly, she felt that tickle spread to her palms, as if it were contagious.
In the deep darkness that blanketed 4th Street, Oscar stirred awake in one of the cramped houses squeezed tightly together in the alley.
Yawning widely, he ruffled his disheveled hair, reached for a shirt draped over a chair, and slipped it on. As he fumbled into his trousers, a woman approached from behind.
“You’re leaving already? You could stay a little longer…”
Her voice, laced with coy reluctance, was met with an impatient wave of Oscar’s hand.
Even after Iris’s unequivocal rejection—a refusal he could no longer deny—he hadn’t returned to the ducal estate. If he was going to be caught, he figured he might as well indulge himself as much as possible before crawling back home.
Once his father learned of his failed plans, he’d tear into him relentlessly, so Oscar felt he needed this time to brace himself.
And so, he’d been frequenting 4th Street nearly every day, carousing with women. He was careful to avoid noble ladies, lest word reach his parents.
“What’s so special about her that she acts all high and mighty?”
The thought of Iris sparked a flare of anger, and Oscar muttered under his breath, chewing on his words.
Her direct gaze, unflinching as she told him, “I don’t like you,” had left a lingering sting, haunting him even in his dreams.
“She’s practically past her prime for the marriage market,” he grumbled.
“Are you talking about me…?” the woman asked hesitantly.
The woman, watching Oscar mutter darkly to himself, cautiously ventured, “Are you talking about me…?”
He grimaced and shook his head. As he grabbed his jacket to leave, she followed to see him off, lightly tugging at his sleeve.
“Um, my lord, may I ask your name?”
Oscar looked down at her silently. Despite her gentle demeanor, her voluptuous figure had caught his eye, and this was already their fourth night together. But he was growing bored and itching to find someone new, so her question felt like a nuisance.
Hmm, what to do?
In the dim light, her cheeks flushed faintly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. Oscar’s lips curled into a crooked smile.
“Curious about my name? It’s—”
Three days earlier than expected, Aracila rose from her bed.
She rotated her right arm and leg, feeling the bones that had knit back together perfectly. The moment she stood on her own two feet again, she nearly teared up with relief.
Farewell, stifling bedrest.
Sally and Rudy, her juniors, were overjoyed to see their senior back after eleven days.
“Yay! Congratulations on your recovery, Senior!” Sally squealed.
“We’ve been waiting for you to return. Truly, congratulations!” Rudy added.
They showered her with confetti and clapped enthusiastically. Aracila beamed, warmed by their enthusiasm.
From the manor to the mage tower, so many people had celebrated her recovery. It made her feel as though she’d lived a pretty good life, and the thought lifted her spirits.
“Should we throw a party to celebrate your full recovery?” Sally suggested, her eyes sparkling.
“A party?”
“Yes! The beast-slaying mission was a success, and you’ve been through so much. I think a celebratory party would be perfect.”
Rudy nodded eagerly. “It was an incredible mission—six high-grade beasts and one top-tier beast taken down. I think a party is more than warranted.”
“Hmm, you’re right,” Aracila said, resting her chin in her hand as she nodded.
A party to celebrate the mission’s success rather than her recovery didn’t sound like a bad idea. Despite their achievement in defeating multiple high-grade beasts, the royal court had glossed over their efforts with little more than a perfunctory report. They’d worked hard, and a few words of praise on paper weren’t enough.
Her junior mages had joined the mission because they trusted and followed her lead. As their senior, she felt a strong urge to reward them in some way.
“All right, how about we throw a party to celebrate the beast-slaying victory?”
“Yes! That’s awesome!”
“I’m all for it!”
Sally and Rudy cheered, their faces lighting up with agreement.
Exchanging a quick glance, they hesitated before speaking cautiously.
“Senior, if it’s a celebration for the mission, will the Red Hawk Knights be invited too?”
“Huh…?”
Aracila tilted her head, caught off guard—she hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“Are you asking because you don’t want them there?”
“No, it’s not that,” Rudy said, looking slightly sheepish. “A lot of us got help from the knights during the final battle. IncRudyng me.”
Sally picked up where he left off. “But no one’s properly thanked them. Things got chaotic after that lunatic threw a dark magic bomb at you, Senior.”
“Oh, I see,” Aracila said, nodding in understanding.
From the mages’ perspective, their leader had been bedridden. From the knights’ perspective, their commander’s wife had been injured. In such a heavy atmosphere, no one would have been in the mood for casual chatter. By the time they returned to the capital, there was little chance for further interaction, so any gratitude likely went unexpressed.
“Then how about a joint party with the Red Hawk Knights? We did the mission together, after all.”
“Sounds good to me,” Sally said.
“Me too,” Rudy agreed.
Both had secretly harbored some lingering regret, and their time fighting alongside the knights had softened their previous disdain. Once, they might have shuddered at the thought of sharing space with knights, but not anymore.
Buoyed by her juniors’ enthusiasm, Aracila headed home after work, a little excited about proposing the joint party to Damian.
“Uh…?”
Stepping into the central hall, she spotted a familiar silhouette and widened her eyes. She’d left work early on her first day back, assuming Damian, who worked regular hours, wouldn’t be home yet.
But that tall, sturdy figure was unmistakably his.
“Damian, you’re already here?”
“…Oh, you’re back,” he replied, turning to her half a beat late.
In his hand was a letter, and before him stood a large box. Aracila approached, eyeing the box with curiosity.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a reward from the royal court for the beast-slaying mission. It contains gold and jewels.”
Aracila opened the box to inspect it. Gold coins—likely worth millions—and shimmering gems gleamed inside. Considering the mission’s difficulty, with a top-tier beast involved, it was a modest reward at best.
“Why do you look so serious? Are you disappointed with the reward?”
“No, it’s not that…” Damian sighed, his expression complex as he looked at her.
After a moment of hesitation, he held out the letter.
“You’ll understand if you read this.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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