“My goodness, El, you look just like… one of those animals I saw in the forest back home. What was it called—a raccoon?”
Karen was startled by the dark circles under El’s eyes.
“Don’t mention it. I had a nightmare last night…”
El rubbed his brow.
Ever since that last memory with the demon, ever since learning his true name—“Angell”—El had noticed the demon growing much more active.
The most obvious sign was that he kept slipping into those memories.
Blood and fire, chaos and slaughter, endless war. With dreams like those… how could El possibly sleep well?
“Aurelia asked me to give you this.” Karen handed El a box.
El opened it and froze.
Inside was a single White Rose, immaculate and pure, filling the box with its fragrance.
It was Aurelia’s favorite flower, and also the very first gift she’d ever given El—a symbol of her feelings. The White Rose had been witness to their love.
Karen shrugged. He could tell that Aurelia was displeased with El’s flirtatiousness and wanted to remind him of her presence with this. But from what he knew of El, this trick likely wouldn’t work.
There was also an envelope beside it. El hesitated a moment before opening it.
“To El Regis, my dearest.”
“The sunlight outside is so bright, it makes me think of that afternoon when we first met. I was in the Student Council President’s office, and couldn’t help but pick up my pen to write you something.”
“My mother once told me that love is the most wondrous alchemy, that it can completely transform a person, inside and out.”
“At first, I dismissed her words. Anyone who approached me did so either for my looks, or for the Godfield family’s wealth. I would sneer inside—love, just a dirty person’s lie to cover up their motives.”
“Until I met you, and only then did I realize how powerful it truly is.”
“It made me blind. Somehow, I stopped noticing appearances. Those other nobles seemed ugly in my eyes, and only you could be called handsome.”
“It made me arrogant. Before, as someone who couldn’t set foot among the extraordinary, I always felt out of place among the nobles. But after meeting you, I felt I could do anything—like for you, I’d even bring down the stars from the sky.”
“It made me shortsighted. After meeting you, I no longer wished to think too far ahead; the future seemed to lose its importance. I only look forward to our time together—today, and tomorrow.”
“In that sense, perhaps it’s not such a good thing. Love’s turned my life upside down.”
“I suddenly thought of that day in the library, when I was handling merchant guild matters and you were beside me studying magic. Looking at your profile, I always felt your eyes were shining.”
“I rested my head on your shoulder, and you awkwardly put your coat over me, blushing. You were so cute.”
“So this is love. Though it’s terrible, I savor it all the same.”
“You once promised, no matter when, you would always be my support. I want to know—does that promise still count now?”
“These days, I’ve made new breakthroughs in my alchemy. I believe I’ll soon be able to solve your mana problem. You were never meant to be bound; you shouldn’t shine only in my world—you deserve everything beautiful.”
“Forever loving you, Aurelia.”
“P.S. There’s a banquet at Duke Lavaud’s manor this weekend.”
After reading, El was silent for a long time, not speaking again until just before class.
El, you fool. He couldn’t help but curse himself.
One line from the letter had pierced him: “No matter when, you would always be my support.” In truth, he was the traitor here, wanting to run from Aurelia without ever considering her feelings.
Though her letter was sweet, he dared not dwell on what state of mind Aurelia was in when she wrote it. He saw, in a few places, the ink had blurred—were those her tears?
You’ve hurt her deeply, El. He told himself.
***
This morning’s class was Professor Obes’s. Although El no longer felt sleepy, he had no mind to pay attention.
His thoughts were consumed by guilt. He didn’t want to let down someone who loved him.
Is there any way to make it right… At that moment, he suddenly remembered—the letter had one more line.
She’d reminded him of the weekend’s banquet.
So that was it… Previously, El had asked Aurelia for help in repairing the monitoring Crystal, and owed her a date.
She was telling him: take her along. In other words, that debt—the date—would be repaid at the banquet.
If Aurelia were to be his dance partner… Very clever, El thought.
Just as Cielsa had said, he was merely the East Border Count—counted as part of the princess’s faction among the nobles.
His status wasn’t high enough, and he’d be watched with suspicion. He could never probe for any useful information.
But Aurelia was different. Heir to the Grand Duke of the Western Border, part of the neutral camp, she would be the undisputed center of attention at the banquet.
With her help, El would be far more confident in handling things.
She was a master in her own right, heir to the Godfield family. To put it bluntly, in today’s Imperial Family, not even the old emperor’s life was as secure as hers.
It was just… if he agreed, his relationship with Aurelia would once again become entangled and unclear…
He’d wanted to postpone that date indefinitely. Perhaps Aurelia had seen through his intentions, which was why she’d proposed it so decisively.
Professor Obes noticed El’s distraction and recalled what the headmaster had told him: “Sometimes, you need to be more understanding and tolerant with students. El is very tired; I hope you can be gentler with him.”
His gaze toward El softened, and he intentionally slowed the pace and mood of the lecture.
After class, El immediately took out his communication stone and called Aurelia.
“El, did you get what I asked Karen to bring you?”
Her voice was pleasant, as if an angel had blessed her throat.
“Yes, I receiv—…”
He hadn’t even finished speaking before she cut him off.
“How did I do? That was my first love letter, you know. Never needed one before.” She sounded so happy. El had meant to apologize, but her tone told him she didn’t want to hear it.
“You wrote it beautifully.”
A love letter’s value is wholly determined by the one who receives it—their subjective judgment. In other words, if he likes the person who wrote it, then no matter what it says, he’ll find it wonderful.
“That’s good. I’m relieved. Since you contacted me, does that mean—you’ve agreed? For the weekend?”
“No, that’s not it.” El corrected her, “Lady Aurelia, this is El Regis, formally inviting you. Would you do me the honor of being my dance partner at the banquet?”
“It would be my pleasure.”