His hand was burning.
Burning as though it had been holding that heat inside for so long it had simply become what it was.
The heat of him mixed with Kasha’s own — naturally lower than most — and worked its way through her. Not like human warmth. Something more aggressive than that. A desire too large for a human body to hold.
What was roiling inside him — she held a fraction of it with him, for a little while.
If anyone had seen them standing there, they might have mistaken them for two people at the uncertain beginning of something.
Holding each other’s hands. Faces flushed. Neither one quite knowing how to move forward.
In reality: a long, thick moment layered with confusion and fury, fear and longing.
Finally—
“Stop. That’s enough.”
He had been surrendering his hand to her like a man who’d lost himself. He pulled it back.
He turned away, pressing a hand to his forehead. Kasha looked at her emptied palm with something close to reluctance.
It was warm.
I’m just as terribly lonely as you are.
A bitter, rueful smile moved across her mouth.
“Get out.”
His voice was rough, as though scraped along something. The confusion in it bled through.
“Leon.”
“You’re… too dangerous. I’ll send word when I’m ready. Until then, stay away from me.”
He looked like a solitary animal that had grown too used to being alone. His voice came out again, almost like a plea.
“Go. Please.”
Looking at his back, she had a flash of the ruined temple. The last time she had seen him.
So this woman really is the villainess Kasha?
Those hollow eyes, murmuring something they didn’t believe.
Kasha said nothing more. She dipped her head slightly and walked quietly out of the room.
⁂
Coming out into the corridor, she had made it down the stairs and was just passing the entrance to the sitting room when she heard it.
Sniff. Sniff.
“……?”
A child, crying softly. Kasha followed the sound without quite deciding to.
The sofa where she herself had been sitting, earlier — tucked into the corner of it was a small girl with platinum hair, curled into herself. The baby’s face from the portrait in Leon’s study superimposed itself over the child’s features without effort.
Eve Aranias.
The resemblance to Leon was unmistakable.
But why was she crying here alone?
Kasha found herself moving toward the girl.
Sensing her approach, the child looked up — red-rimmed eyes going wide.
“Who are you?”
Leon’s features, in miniature, with a pair of sweet violet eyes. Something in Kasha’s face softened of its own accord.
“I’m Kasha Rüschino. A guest of your brother Leon. It’s lovely to meet you, Eve.”
To be addressed by name by a guest who hadn’t been introduced yet — Eve tilted her head.
“Leon’s guest? He’s never had a lady visitor before.”
The tearful eyes sparked immediately with curiosity. Kasha held that open gaze and spoke.
“But — why are you here crying by yourself? Should I go and get your brother?”
Eve shook her head, looking miserable.
“No. Leon’s always busy, and lately he won’t even let me come near him. I must be very annoying to him.”
Kasha, who remembered the sadness in Leon’s eyes as he spoke of Eve in the ruined temple, wanted to tell her that was not true at all. At the same time, she understood well enough why the girl thought so.
From what Leon had told her before her return — their mother had died when Eve was three. Grand Duke Oscilote had always been occupied and distant with his children. Leon had been the one who had effectively become a parent to his younger siblings. Especially Eve, the youngest, who had adored him.
And it was plain why — in a house as quiet and lonely as this one, Leon had been the only adult who would scoop her up and tell her she was cherished.
But since the curse had manifested, even that had become difficult. Contact with any person’s body — man, woman, child — had become something he instinctively flinched from.
Piecing together the timing of when the magestone had been taken and what Leon had described of his past, Kasha estimated the curse had been active for roughly nine months.
Which meant Eve had been lonely for exactly that long.
The girl shifted and sidled up close to Kasha on the sofa, dropping her voice.
The soft, sweet smell of a child drifted toward her.
“Um — can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Have you ever… hosted a tea party?”
“…A tea party?”
Never in her life. She had never even been to one.
“The thing is, it’s almost my turn to host one. But… well. As you can probably tell, there’s no one in this house I can ask for advice.”
Eve explained with the gravity of someone stating a real problem.
“Just last week, the daughter of Baron Penileton hosted one, and everyone was so impressed. Her mother had decorated everything beautifully. But I—”
She trailed off.
Without a mother to help — that was what she meant.
So that was why she’d been crying, tucked into a corner of the sitting room. The only daughter of the Aranias house, and she didn’t have a single person to share even this small worry with.
Kasha asked, in a calm voice:
“What about a relative? An aunt, perhaps?”
“Aunt Sheila visits sometimes, but she’s terribly strict and exacting. If I ask for her help, everyone will suffocate and die of tension. Honestly.”
Just thinking about it seemed to weigh down Eve’s fine eyebrows.
Kasha considered.
A tea party. She was utterly ignorant on the subject. But this could be an excellent opportunity to build a closer connection to Leon’s family. And knowing what lay ahead for Eve — she couldn’t simply pretend she hadn’t heard.
“I think… I might be able to help.”
“Really?!”
Delighted enough to bounce, Eve shot to her feet.
“There’s one condition. Your brother mustn’t know. Not yet.”
“Why?”
“He’ll say no, certainly. That you shouldn’t accept help without a reason behind it.”
“…You really do know my brother.”
“When you have the date and place, send me a letter. To the Rüschino residence.”
“All right!”
The thrill of corresponding with an adult like a proper grown-up made Eve’s face break open into a full, luminous smile. It was like watching a small flower come into bloom, and it coaxed an answering smile out of Kasha before she’d thought to stop it.
⁂
Having made their small conspiracy, Kasha came out to the entrance hall. The steward who had been waiting there bowed and opened the front door himself.
The afternoon sun was fierce, and warm garden air rolled in to meet her.
She stepped down the stairs quickly.
The coachman’s been waiting a long time. I should hurry.
She was gathering her skirts and moving down the steps when she felt, without explanation, a coolness run up the back of her neck.
What is that?
She stopped and turned to look back at the manor.
At that moment, she caught one of the second-floor curtains swaying.
Leon? But that’s not in the direction of his study.
She tilted her head slightly, then continued down.
Behind her, all the way to the gate, a sharp and dark attention clung to her back like a shadow.
⁂
Five days later.
Second floor of the Rüschino residence. Kasha’s room.
While Kasha sat absorbed in her blueprints, Sena placed a small stack of envelopes on the desk beside her.
“My lady — please eat some lunch first. Or would you like me to bring something up to the room?”
“These came for me?”
Kasha brushed aside the question and picked up the envelopes.
Three of them.
The first was from the Imperial Library. She tore it open immediately — and her face fell almost as fast.
…Rejected again.
She was working, as she had told Leon, on converting the power source of her magitools from standard magical energy to holy energy. The concept wasn’t difficult — she had worked through the theory in her previous life. But actually implementing the change was not as straightforward as it sounded.
She needed certain reference texts she couldn’t find. Before, Simon had procured whatever she needed, so she had no experience tracking down materials on her own.
And finding a blacksmith capable of realizing her designs as physical objects was its own separate problem.
I need people who can help.
She was still thinking about that when she picked up the second envelope, glanced at the handwriting on the front, and dropped it directly into the wastebin.
“Oh — my lady. Are you really done with Lord Simon?”
Sena’s eyes went wide as she watched.
It was Simon’s handwriting.
“Yes. Obviously. If he comes here again, just tell him I’m not in. Always.”
Sena nodded vigorously.
“Of course, my lady. Honestly — I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but I never liked the look of him from the start. The way he talked down to you, and always putting on those airs—”
Once started, the complaints flowed freely.
Sena had been growing considerably more at ease with Kasha lately — nothing like the strained wariness she’d shown at first. The conversation was a bit awkward in places, but Kasha found it settled something in her, and she could practice speaking while they talked.
She gave an absentminded nod and turned to the third envelope. And felt the color return to her face.
Finally.
She opened it quickly. Behind her, Sena took one look at the expression and slipped out of the room.
Better bring her something to eat, or she’ll forget to again. She was doing so well for a while, too. I wonder what she’s gotten herself into now. Although — I have to say, lately, when she’s focused like that with her glasses on, she looks rather…
Kasha, entirely unaware that Sena had left, unfolded the letter and began to read.
