“…I came to see you. Before the expedition.”
“You’re busy. You didn’t have to.”
Kasha said it plainly, snatching the book from his hand as she spoke.
“As you can see — my room is a disaster. It’s really not a good time for visitors.”
“Am I a visitor to you?”
“…I’m not sure what you mean by that.”
“If I am — then surely even a visitor who’s come all this way deserves at least a cup of tea.”
The moment he finished, a knock came at the door.
“What—”
“Bring it in.”
Leon responded before she could form another word. He moved through the wreckage of her room and opened the door himself, accepting the tray from the kitchen maid with his own hands, then carried it back to Kasha.
“Here. We can set it on this.”
He swept a stack of books to one side and set the tray down.
Kasha looked at it in silence.
The steaming teapot and cups were only part of what was on it. There was also a thin chicken broth, a round white roll, soft sliced fruit, and Kasha’s favorite — chocolate cake. Everything arranged in pairs, as though meant for two.
“You arranged all of this?”
“I heard you hadn’t eaten.”
Leon said it simply and pressed a spoon into her hand.
“I don’t have time for this.”
“Neither do I, to be honest. I’ve barely eaten all day between expedition preparations.”
“Then you should go have a proper meal somewhere else, instead of—”
“My goodness. I really don’t have the energy to argue.”
With that, Leon dragged a toppled chair upright and settled into it with practiced ease, pressing his fingers to his brow in a convincing imitation of exhaustion.
Kasha looked at the exaggerated performance and exhaled.
She knew perfectly well he was maneuvering her into eating. But he genuinely looked worn to the bone — the exhaustion underneath the act was entirely real.
She gave up with a helpless expression and brought the spoon to the soup. Leon brightened at once, smiled, and began eating himself.
They ate together for a while in silence. Both had been running on empty all day — stretched thin and tightly wound. And despite the chaos that surrounded them, sitting across from each other like this, even in this destroyed room, felt like rest.
Every time Kasha moved to put her spoon down, Leon nudged the bread toward her or offered fruit. When she seemed to struggle to swallow, he quietly poured her tea. He cut the cake into manageable pieces for her.
Each time, Kasha found herself picking the spoon back up.
It was the fresh cuts on his large hands, visible as he poured her tea and passed her the cake, that made it impossible to say anything harsh. This is someone worn down by expedition preparations. I can’t be colder than I already have been.
And there was the look on his face each time she cleared a plate — the quiet, genuine lift at the corners of his mouth. It was dangerously addictive. That expression alone seemed to carry a pull stronger than her meager appetite.
In the end, every dish on the tray was empty.
Kasha, full for the first time in days, felt faintly embarrassed. She dabbed her mouth with a napkin and spoke in her usual clipped tone.
“Go now. You have far more important things to be doing than sitting here.”
“Preparations are done. This half-day until morning is my last leave before departure.”
He replied with all the ease in the world, as though her cool dismissal had not reached him.
“…If that’s really true, then you should go see Eve and your family.”
“Eve would much rather hear me tell her I came to see you.”
Hearing that, Kasha hesitated a moment before asking.
“…How is the Grand Duke Aranias faring?”
“He’s receiving treatment at the Temple. The madness has clearly set in, but they haven’t been able to determine the cause.”
Kasha was quiet after hearing this, turning something over in her mind. Leon waited without interrupting. After a moment, she spoke carefully.
“When did the Grand Duke’s condition first begin to show symptoms?”
“Perhaps two months ago — though it seems to have worsened sharply of late. Why do you ask?”
Kasha closed her mouth. Leon watched her expression and continued.
“Even given his condition, forcibly confining a grand duke against his will is not something that can be done lightly. We’ll have to find an answer quickly.”
“Then you need to come back soon.”
“That is my intention.”
He answered as casually as though he were heading off to a routine training exercise. Kasha looked at him with a hint of reproach.
He couldn’t begin to imagine how urgently she was pouring herself into these devices, or what that urgency was costing her.
A silence fell between them. Kasha broke it.
“Go now. Please.”
“There is something I want to say to you.”
“I have work to finish.”
“Then I’ll wait.”
“How long? Departure is tomorrow — are you going to stay here all night?”
Her voice had a pointed edge. He only smiled.
“I would love nothing more.”
Kasha’s retort died in her throat.
She wanted to be annoyed, but her ears burned traitorously. She turned away with unnecessary sharpness.
“Do as you like. I genuinely have to work.”
He was the commander of the expedition, after all. He would not so irresponsibly spend the night before departure here. If she gave him nothing, he would leave on his own. She told herself that and turned back to her research.
How much time passed, she couldn’t say.
At some point, Kasha noticed that she could no longer hear even the faintest sign of him in the room.
Did he leave?
She had wanted him to go — of course she had — and yet she felt an unexpected pang at the thought that he had left without a word.
Without quite meaning to, she turned to look at the chair where he had been sitting.
Her eyes went wide.
Leon was asleep.
He had fallen asleep right there, leaning back against the chair. Whatever dreams had found him must have been deep ones — she could hear the faint, steady rhythm of his breathing.
Kasha held her breath and looked at his sleeping face.
Even now, his jaw looked sharper than before. She could imagine what the training had cost him. A man with that kind of conscience would have pushed himself without mercy — cutting into meals and sleep until he was as prepared as he could possibly be.
She, who was no less of a workaholic herself, somehow forgot this and found only pity in the gauntness of his face.
Come to think of it — this was the first time she had been able to look at him freely, without restraint.
It was easy to understand why people praised his face as something sacred. The clean, masculine line from brow to forehead, his perfectly shaped eyebrows, the delicate curve of his ears that made her want to reach out and trace them.
She had been staring in a daze for quite some time when his brow furrowed faintly, and she startled back, quickly turning away.
“…….”
But after a moment, there was no further sound. Carefully, Kasha turned back.
His brow was still creased.
Was he having a bad dream? His face twitched as though in pain, yet not a sound escaped him. The hand resting on the armrest had tensed — she could see the tendons standing out against the back of his hand.
Could this be a delayed effect of the curse?
Kasha felt a cold drop in her chest. She rose from her chair and went to him.
His lashes fluttered. Behind his closed eyelids, his eyes moved — he was dreaming, clearly. The troubled expression confirmed it was not a good one.
Why do you have to have nightmares, of all times. You’re making it so hard to keep my distance.
She sighed softly and raised her hand toward his forehead.
With the same kind of focus she brought when channeling sacred power, she began to gently stroke his forehead and the silver-white strands of his hair.
What happened next was startling.
The moment her hand began to move, his expression smoothed.
The tension gathered between his brows slowly released, and she felt something flutter in her chest watching it. The warmth of his skin through her palm, the softness of his hair beneath her fingers. The familiar scent rising from him — close enough that it was no longer strange.
And perhaps because of it — watching him go wholly unguarded beneath her hand, like a sleeping child — she felt the careful walls around her own heart give way without permission.
Which was why, perhaps, she whispered it without thinking.
“Leon. I was the one who broke the seal on that mana stone. The one that cursed you.”
“…….”
She checked his face immediately, pulse spiking.
His expression hadn’t moved. He was still asleep.
Seized by something she couldn’t name — bravery or foolishness, she wasn’t sure — her whispers kept coming.
“I approached you from the very beginning to take that stone back. I only removed your curse because the weight of my guilt had grown unbearable.”
“…….”
Still no answer from the man sleeping before her. But the words, once started, would not stop.
“You were used by me. So stop being a fool about this. Stop thinking about me. I’m not worth it.”
Kasha found herself sinking to the floor beside his chair as if her legs had simply given out. She wanted to touch the hand resting on the armrest — but she was afraid of waking him.
“Don’t put yourself in danger. Don’t get hurt.”
Even now, if she closed her eyes, she still sometimes saw it.
The fallen holy knight haunting a deserted shrine. The empty sleeve fluttering below the right elbow, where the arm had been cut away.
“And — absolutely, never, never die. Not in this life. Never.”
Tears that had been welling slowly in her eyes finally spilled and fell.
They landed on his knee, one by one, leaving small round marks.
“You have to survive. If for no one else — then for me, Leon.”
Her voice had gone hoarse without her noticing.
Some unmeasured time drifted by.
Kasha leaned against the leg of the chair and drifted into a light sleep. Before long, the sound of her soft, even breathing filled the quiet room.
And the moment it did, the eyes of the man sitting in the chair slowly opened.
“…….”
A pair of violet eyes — far too clear and alert for someone who had truly been asleep — looked down in silence at the loose strands of hair falling across her face.
