Chapter 18
"Admittedly, I made a mistake earlier."
"Are you admitting your fault now? You?"
"I was already coming to realize it myself."
Calyphe said with evident frustration.
"I tried to finish it quickly while Noah wasn't looking, but that brat started wailing about being hurt. Next time, I’ll handle it before he can throw a tantrum."
"That’s not the mistake I meant. Never mind."
Calyphe remained unchanged, as always.
A nuisance—irritating and troublesome.
No matter how often I tried to ignore her, she always found a way to provoke me.
She wasn’t worth the energy.
As Rynen turned to leave after checking the child, Calyphe spoke again.
"Thanks for the critique. I’ll work on being quicker."
"...You call that effort?"
"Of course. I intend to raise our child properly—healthily and with good values."
Rynen ignored her and turned away, but Calyphe added:
"Like me."
"...!"
Rynen spun halfway back, his body taut.
"Are you sane? Look in the mirror first."
"I did. This is my conclusion."
"Then your reflection must’ve lied."
"Isn’t this conversation the real waste?"
"How dare you care for a child with such negligence!"
"Your standards are absurdly high!"
"Yours are criminally low!"
As their clash intensified like tiger and dragon—
"Are you fighting...?"
A small, trembling voice pierced through.
Two predators froze under the weight of large green eyes staring up.
"Is it... because of me...?"
"...?!"
What nonsense!
Flustered, Calyphe forced nonchalance. "Fighting? Me? Never. Right, Rynen?"
She discreetly kicked Rynen’s calf.
Rynen, grimacing, schooled his expression when Noah’s watery gaze met his. The child bore no fault.
"We had a disagreement. But it wasn’t because of you."
"Really...?"
They nodded in unison.
"Will you make up now?"
"No."
Rynen’s refusal was absolute. Reconciliation with Calyphe Ophensa? Unthinkable.
"I’ve no patience for hollow words."
"Hollow? What do you take me for?"
Calyphe planted her hands on her hips, posture defiant. "Since we’re here, I’ll apologize properly."
"An apology?"
Rynen crossed his arms. "Let’s hear if you even grasp what that means."
"...Well? Get on with it."
Calyphe mouthed ‘you prick’ before sighing. "I know I’ve been... difficult. And that you’ve tolerated it out of chivalry—dozens of times."
"‘Difficult’? That’s an understatement. And it wasn’t chivalry. I ignored you to avoid wasting time."
"...Must you clarify now?"
"You offered an apology. Can’t handle the truth?"
Calyphe swallowed her retort. Had our roles been reversed, I’d have cursed him bloody. He’s shown restraint...
"Anyway," she muttered, "I’m sorry. Truly."
"...And?"
"I won’t pester you again. I swear."
"Why should I believe that?"
"Need proof? Shall I demonstrate?"
"What—?"
Calyphe’s eyes gleamed like a cat spotting prey. She spread her arms.
"A peace hug? C’mon."
"...Absolutely not."
Rynen stepped back, frost in his tone.
"Just one quick—"
"Don’t touch me."
"Stop eyeing me like I’m some deviant! I’m not doing this for fun!"
"Then who’s forcing you?"
"Let’s say... circumstances?"
Rynen stared, unimpressed. Calyphe’s cheeks flushed.
"Never mind. You wouldn’t get it. Damn quest..."
As she grumbled incoherently, Rynen’s weariness deepened—until he noticed Noah’s pleading eyes.
Leaving now would confirm his fears. Even a transient child deserved no unnecessary scars.
"...A handshake. At most."
"Really?!"
Rynen extended his hand. After a beat, Calyphe gripped it—surprisingly gentle for one who’d allegedly throttled countless scalps.
The contrast unsettled him. Still... we’re worlds apart.
"Didn’t expect you’d accept."
"Don’t mistake this for forgiveness. It’s merely..."
Rynen glanced at Noah. A concession for the child’s sake.
Calyphe marveled inwardly. To shield even her ward—a child cared for by someone he despised—from hurt... No wonder I’m obsessed.
But we’re oil and water. Gorgeous physique aside.
Clapclapclap.
Only Noah applauded, eyes sparkling. The pair snatched back their hands.
"My feelings remain unchanged. Rest assured."
"Duly noted."
"Let’s go, Noah."
"...’Kay."
The boy cast multiple longing glances at Rynen before disappearing with Calyphe.
Rynen stared at the vacant space. To part civilly with Calyphe Ophensa? Unprecedented. Whether she’d keep her word... time would tell.
"Phew."
The shopkeeper emerged from behind the sofa. "My apologies for the unseemly display, Your Grace."
"The intrusion was mine."
"Not at all!" The man bowed lower, flustered by the Duke’s courtesy to subordinates.
"Who acquired the Legend 25?"
"Ah—" Normally, he’d cite confidentiality. But this was the Duke of Ortega—empire’s paragon of chivalry.
"Lady Calyphe Ophensa. Though Baron Rothen footed the bill."
"Calyphe? Why would she seek it?"
"I merely procured it..."
Calyphe knows nothing of spirits. Why pursue a connoisseur’s drink? And the timing...
Back at his estate, Rynen ordered surveillance on Calyphe.
Raul, his special unit captain, frowned. "You wish to tail Lady Ophensa?"
"Yes."
"Not that she’s tailing someone?"
"Yes."
"...May I ask why?"
"No."
Raul’s discomfort mirrored Rynen’s own. Has Heron’s idiocy infected him?
Next evening, Raul’s voice crackled through the communication stone:
―She’s moving. Switched to an unmarked carriage. Headed for the Sack District.
The slums—labyrinthine, lawless, rife with black markets.
Was her general store act a farce?
Rynen donned an earring that blurred his features into anonymity. His black hair silvered at the tips.
If she’s scheming something dangerous...
He gave chase. I’ll end it myself.
