Chapter 94: Understanding Each Other
“Above all, my wife has more than enough potential to become the Tower Master, so don’t drag her down out of your own insecurities.”
Damian’s voice was low and laced with warning as he concluded his rebuke.
Aracila was a woman brimming with passion and talent. He had no doubt she could achieve her dream of becoming the Tower Master.
His confident words left the mages exchanging glances, their lips twitching as if they wanted to retort but couldn’t find the words.
“…But she won’t make it,” someone muttered under their breath.
Damian’s brow furrowed as he scanned the group, trying to pinpoint who had spoken. But it was impossible to tell—every face wore the same smug certainty that Aracila would never rise to the top.
Stunned by their audacity, Damian’s eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth to snap back. “How would you know—”
“You’re the one who doesn’t know,” a mage interrupted, their tone sharp with indignation. “You’re just a knight. What do you understand about the Magic Tower or its mages?”
A few others nodded, their murmurs of agreement cutting through the air. Damian, unable to fully counter their point, found himself momentarily at a loss for words.
“Then let me explain, since I do know the Magic Tower and its mages,” a clear, melodic voice cut in.
Aracila stepped to Damian’s side, her expression calm but carrying a playful smile. “I’m going to be the Tower Master.”
The group fell silent, and she let out a soft chuckle before continuing. “At the very least, I’ve got a better shot than a bunch of people who gossip about their colleague behind her back, get caught by her husband, and still have the nerve to keep talking without a shred of shame.”
Her words hit like a whip, and the mages’ faces flushed with embarrassment. Aracila’s smile was bright, but her eyes were cold as ice as she fixed them on the group.
“If you get it, stop clustering like ants and scatter.”
The mages hesitated, then dispersed in all directions, knowing full well that arguing with Aracila would gain them nothing. In moments, the area around her and Damian was deserted, save for a few onlookers who whispered among themselves as they drifted away.
Aracila turned to Damian, her gaze steady. He met her eyes, equally quiet.
Her lips parted slowly. “Want to step out for a bit?”
They moved to a secluded lounge tucked away in a corner of the Magic Tower, a space rarely visited by the mages who preferred to hole up in their labs. To promote well-being, the lounge had been designed like a garden, complete with artificial trees.
Aracila sat on a bench beneath one of the trees, and Damian joined her. For a while, they sat side by side, staring ahead in silence until Damian broke the quiet.
“Were those people always against you?” he asked.
“I’m not entirely sure,” Aracila replied, her voice tinged with indifference. “Maybe they’ve always disliked me, or maybe something set them off.”
Damian studied her, noting how her casual tone belied the complexity in her expression. In truth, Aracila’s mind was a tangle of thoughts.
Those mages were the type to talk big behind her back but shrink in her presence. That was why she’d suggested Damian take a break while she met with Philip—she’d worried they might say something careless to him or provoke him in her absence. She’d anticipated their cowardice, their reluctance to openly challenge her ambition to become Tower Master while still sniping from the shadows.
But she hadn’t expected them to be brazen enough to get caught by Damian.
Showing him this side of her world—petty gossip and veiled hostility—left her feeling uneasy.
“If I’d known they were on bad terms with you, I wouldn’t have bothered talking to them in the first place,” Damian said, his tone serious.
Aracila let out a small laugh. “Then you’d barely have any mages to talk to.”
Damian’s expression grew even more earnest. “Why do they act like that toward you? Is it jealousy? Feeling threatened?”
He looked as if he were the one being gossiped about, his face clouded with concern. Aracila met his gaze for a moment before countering with a question of her own. “If I told you why, do you think you’d understand?”
“If you’re talking about them, I wouldn’t care to,” he replied. “But if it’s about you, I’d try to understand, even if it’s hard.”
His blatantly biased response drew a soft chuckle from her. She paused, gathering her thoughts, while Damian waited patiently for her to speak.
After a long silence, she began. “For a long time, there’s been a prejudice in the Magic Tower that female mages usually quit after getting married, so investing in them is pointless.”
The only one who hadn’t bought into that bias and recognized Aracila’s talent early on was Philip, the current Tower Master. Thanks to him, she’d joined the Magic Tower as its youngest mage, but that was merely the beginning.
Even with Philip’s support, the obstacles in her path were countless.
“At first, people were curious how long I’d last before getting married and leaving,” she said. “There’s never been a case of a noblewoman from a good family staying on as a mage until the end.”
Those persistent doubts had played a significant role in her decision to declare herself a lifelong bachelor. She’d hoped that swearing off marriage would make people take her seriously, lend credibility to her ambition to become Tower Master.
“And because of the mistakes of a few in the past, there’s this lingering stereotype that female mages are swayed by personal emotions and misuse their power.”
So Aracila had made a conscious effort to never show emotional outbursts in front of her colleagues. It wasn’t hard—she wasn’t naturally quick to anger. But at times, it felt stifling.
After all, everyone—man or woman, young or old—could be emotional or composed depending on the moment. It was only human.
It felt as though everyone was on guard, assuming that just because she was a woman, Aracila might wield her abilities impulsively, driven by emotion.
In truth, whenever anyone displayed emotional behavior, Aracila seemed to draw the most scrutiny.
“That’s why there’s never been a female Tower Master,” she explained. “The perception is that women mages retire after marriage or motherhood, and they’re too emotional to be entrusted with significant roles.”
In such an environment, Aracila’s emergence as a candidate for the next Tower Master was nothing short of remarkable. Her talent shone brighter than anyone’s, and unlike the prevailing biases, she poured all her time and effort solely into her magic.
Year by year, more people began to predict that Aracila would become the first female Tower Master.
But everything changed when she had her prophetic dream and married Damian.
Doubts resurfaced. People grew skeptical again, convinced that as a married woman, she would eventually leave the Magic Tower. The momentum that had made her a leading candidate for Tower Master faltered. The only silver lining was that no other candidate had surged ahead to overtake her.
“I was relatively free from those biases before,” Aracila said. “But not anymore, not since getting married.”
She’d always had her share of detractors, but after her marriage, the attacks became more blatant, more direct.
“Of course, marrying you was my choice—I proposed it, so I’m not blaming you,” she continued. “But as long as we’re married, I’ll keep facing these prejudices.”
“…”
“So I hope you can inherit the ducal title as soon as possible. I don’t want my dreams to be held back just because I’m married.”
Damian listened to her in silence, unable to find words. Until now, he’d assumed their marriage hadn’t brought Aracila any significant gains, but neither had it cost her much. Sure, his family had caused her trouble, but setting that aside, their union—between the Vandemir Duchy and the Hugo Marquisate—seemed advantageous for her on the surface.
He’d never restricted her activities, even supported her at times, stepping in to help whenever she was in trouble. That had lulled him into a complacent belief that she hadn’t suffered any real losses.
But the venomous gossip from the mages and Aracila’s candid words shattered that illusion.
Their marriage had dealt her a far greater blow than he’d imagined—a consequence entirely separate from the fact that it was a contract marriage. After all, no one had ever suggested Damian step down as Commander of the Red Hawk Knights because he was married.
He hadn’t had the chance to fully grasp the pressures Aracila faced, both within and outside the Magic Tower, until now. The Marchioness and the Duchess had nagged her about quitting the Tower, but he’d dismissed it as petty meddling, not something to take seriously. Aracila had seemed to brush it off with the same nonchalance, which only reinforced his tendency to downplay it.
Now, the memory of their argument over his mother’s dress flooded back, and his own careless words stung him.
“What would someone like you, who’s lived an easy life, know?”
“What could someone like you, who’s lived a pampered life in a greenhouse, possibly understand? You can’t even imagine how I feel right now.”
Shame washed over him for speaking so thoughtlessly, presuming to know her when he hadn’t. Covering his face with his hand, Damian couldn’t bring himself to look up.
Why did I arrogantly assume she’s had an easy life with nothing to lose?
It was only natural that everyone had their own struggles, yet he’d judged her so hastily. Embarrassed, he kept his face hidden.
Aracila glanced at him, still as a statue with his hand over his face.
Maybe this was too hard for him to understand…
He hadn’t lived through similar experiences, so it was unlikely he could fully empathize. He might even think that if she just worked harder, excelled more, the problem would resolve itself. She’d heard that kind of dismissive advice before.
Maybe I should’ve just said people are jealous because I’m too talented and likely to become Tower Master.
Regretting her bluntness, she was startled when Damian suddenly spoke.
“I’m sorry, Aracila,” he said, his voice heavy with remorse. “I’ve been narrow-minded and self-centered.”
“…What?”
His unexpected self-reflection caught her off guard. She hadn’t shared her story to elicit an apology, which made his reaction all the more surprising.
Lowering his hand, Damian met her eyes with unflinching sincerity. “Until now, I thought the only hardship you faced from our marriage was dealing with my family.”
“…”
“I didn’t consider that it could jeopardize your dreams and your future. I’m ashamed of thinking and judging everything from my own perspective.”
Aracila blinked slowly, stunned. She hadn’t expected him to understand her so deeply, let alone acknowledge his oversight. His earnestness made her feel oddly sheepish, especially since she hadn’t meant to make him feel guilty.
“…Ahem, it hasn’t ruined anything yet, so you don’t need to say that,” she mumbled, scratching her neck awkwardly.
Damian nodded solemnly. “I’ll do everything I can to make sure it never does.”
“How exactly?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
He paused, clearly not having thought that far. After a brief silence, he answered, “I’ll support you throughout our marriage.”
“So I can become Tower Master?”
“Yes. I’ll make sure I’m never a stain on your life.”
His resolute declaration carried a weight that surprised her. The thought of being the one to hold Aracila back from her dreams and future was something he couldn’t bear.
His words, so unexpected, drew a soft laugh from her. She wasn’t exactly ordinary herself, but Damian’s way of thinking had its own unique depth.
Shaking her head lightly, a sudden realization struck her. Is his strong sense of responsibility why he feels so accountable for his mother’s death?
For the first time, she felt she understood a piece of the heart that drove him.
And Damian felt the same. He was beginning to see the life Aracila had lived and the convictions that shaped her.
As they truly understood each other for the first time, the person they’d known until now began to take on a new light.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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