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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: First Date (4)
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‘But how could I trust that woman?’
They hadn’t known each other long, nor did they know much about each other.
When Frederick boasted at the restaurant about how well he knew Aracilla, Demian had nothing to say. Indeed, all the information that came from Frederick’s mouth was entirely new to him.
What reason was there to trust a woman he barely knew, to open up about his vulnerabilities just to make her feel better?
‘Do you really think that justifies hurting someone, Demian?’
Suddenly, Aracilla’s words from the carriage scratched at Demian. Her large, clear eyes were as unwavering as the words she had spoken.
Ah, so that was it.
He now vaguely understood why he had felt so uncomfortable.
Even though he barely knew or trusted her, he wanted to make amends because she had been hurt by him.
For the first time, another's feelings had taken precedence over his own.
“What do you think I should have done, Isaac?”
Demian, fully acknowledging his mistake, humbly sought Isaac’s advice.
“Huh? Oh, right. Normally, you would have gotten out of the carriage with her and followed, but you didn’t, Commander. When a woman tells you to get lost, you’re not supposed to actually get lost. It would be best to go to her now and apologize until she calms down.”
There’s no ‘right time’ for an apology. If you’ve made a mistake, you should apologize immediately. That was Isaac’s philosophy.
Demian accepted his subordinate’s words, put down his sword, and left the training grounds. His steps were quick and hurried.
* * *
Aracilla, too, had not returned home.
The more she thought about it, the more irritated she became, and she didn't want to go straight home. If she ran into Demian, she felt like she'd launch a magic attack at him.
‘We’d both lose out if we divorced, yet he acts however he pleases.’
Her anger deepened as she thought about what had happened recently at the Vandermir mansion. Someone had suffered that because of him, in a mansion she’d entered because of him!
Panting with frustration, she changed her mind. Fine, I'll act however I please for once.
Aracilla, who would have normally gone to the social club with Demian after their boat ride, boldly entered alone. She intended to complete their entire date itinerary, as if to spite him.
“What brings Madam Vandermir here? To a place like this?”
“Indeed. I’ve never seen her at a social club in my life.”
“She never showed her face even when she was single, and now she’s here alone? Where’s her husband?”
As soon as Aracilla appeared, the people inside began to murmur. Young nobles her age watched her with curious expressions.
The eccentric mage, now Madam Vandermir, calmly took a large table by herself and ordered refreshments, unfazed by the torrent of gazes.
Did she have company? If so, was it Demian Vandermir?
It was an opportunity to see the newlyweds, who had not appeared in society since their marriage, citing their busy schedules. Everyone sent expectant glances, but after a long while, Demian still didn't arrive.
Aracilla, sitting upright and sipping her tea, didn't give off the impression of waiting for anyone.
To think someone would come to a social club just to entertain themselves alone.
Gasps of astonishment escaped the lips of those who realized Aracilla had truly visited the social club without a companion.
“Even married, an eccentric is still an eccentric, it seems?”
“I don't know how she managed to have a love marriage with Sir Vandermir.”
Aracilla, who had been casually ignoring the whispers, paused then.
“Even if she’s the Magic Tower Master or whatever, in the end, she’s just a woman, isn’t she?”
She turned her head towards the sneering voice and saw three or four red-faced men gathered together. Empty liquor bottles were strewn across their table.
Drinking was allowed in the social club, so being drunk wasn't the issue. The problem was being so drunk they couldn't distinguish right from wrong.
Most accidents happen this way.
“See? No need to hype her up as a skilled female mage, is there? Look how quickly she married the Duke’s second son.”
“She probably figured she couldn’t become the Magic Tower Master, so she married well to gain an advantage, didn't she?”
“My friend works at the Magic Tower, and they say internally she'll be retiring soon. It seems she's being ostracized by her peers for being a mage who fell head over heels for a knight.”
“Wahahaha!” A loud burst of laughter erupted. Aracilla calmly looked back and forth between the teapot on the table and her own hand.
She was calculating which one would be better to smash over those men’s heads.
Hmm, can’t decide. Let’s use both.
“When she ignored my words and acted all haughty. I wonder if she really was sold for a high price. They say the Duke of Vandermir’s eldest son is the more likely successor.”
The man with the particularly loud voice exuded undisguised malice and envy. From the way he spoke, it seemed he had once approached Aracilla and been rejected.
Aracilla quietly picked up the teapot and stood. She intended to just throw it with magic and hit them from where she was, no need to walk all the way over there.
“Honestly, if you take away her face, there’s nothing to see…!”
Sploosh! Alcohol poured over the man’s head. The sudden attack made him thrash and sputter.
The other men at the same table froze as they saw who had poured the drink.
Neatly combed silver hair, sharp and delicate features, and chillingly subdued golden eyes.
It was Demian Vandermir.
“Why exclude her face? It’s said to be a gift from the gods.”
Demian firmly gripped the shoulder of the man who was struggling to escape the liquid pouring over his face, emptied the remaining alcohol, and then met his gaze.
His expression was so chilling that it instantly sobered the man’s drunken, boundary-crossing mind.
“And it was *I* who was sold for a high price, so watch your mouth, Young Master.”
He slammed the bottle roughly onto the table and tightened his grip on the man’s shoulder.
The man groaned and twisted his body ungracefully under a grip that felt like it would crush his bones.
“Sir Vandermir, my hand, my hand…!”
“Since I can’t rip out your fearless, three-inch tongue, just bear it.”
At the genuine warning, the man shut his mouth and endured the pain, his face bright red. The other men awkwardly stood by, exchanging glances.
Just then, a shadow fell over the head of the man who had claimed his friend worked at the Magic Tower.
“Young Master.”
The man turned his head at the clear, resonant voice and nearly had a heart attack. Aracilla stood there, an intimidating expression on her face.
“I don't know who your friend is, Young Master, but I guarantee he's an idiot who wouldn't dare meet my gaze, so don't boast about him too much.”
Aracilla smiled at the man, who was merely gaping.
“You look like an idiot too, Young Master. Oh, wait, are you already an idiot?”
“...!”
Aracilla’s smile vanished, and she spoke in a low voice.
“I never had peers in the Magic Tower to begin with. That's because I entered the Magic Tower several years earlier than everyone else, and I climbed my way up by competing with people much older than me.”
Earning four stars was Aracilla’s pride. It was an achievement not only her peers but also people twice her age had failed to accomplish.
“That means everyone my age is beneath me. Understand?”
Aracilla flicked a small flame into his glass. The man, seeing the glass burst into flames, nodded frantically in fear.
“And as for not becoming the Magic Tower Master, I've just successfully completed another magic research project. While your friend, Young Master, was probably busy cleaning my lab. So don't go around spouting nonsense about me not becoming the Magic Tower Master anymore.”
Aracilla, who had warned the other men by meeting their eyes one by one, finally looked at Demian.
Demian, who had been holding onto the shoulder of the man who was almost in a semi-conscious state, not letting go, flinched.
For someone who had boldly stepped in and punished the men before Aracilla could, he seemed oddly hesitant now.
“Demian, let’s go.”
It was a shame she couldn’t smash his head, but the man who had been loudest seemed to have broken somewhere already.
Aracilla, moderately satisfied, gave a nod, and Demian tossed the man's shoulder as if discarding trash, then followed her.
As they completely vanished from the now silent social club, someone quietly mumbled.
“They’re quite a match, those two.”
* * *
Outside, it had grown dark.
Aracilla walked silently along the main street, and Demian followed quietly.
After walking for a long time, maintaining a distance of about three paces, she suddenly stopped dead, causing Demian to halt his steps abruptly as well.
They were on Sunset Bridge, where the Nelly River, bathed in red light, was visible at a glance.
“How did you know I was at the social club?”
“...When you didn't return home, I looked for you in various places and found out.”
“You didn't go straight home after we parted either, did you, Demian?”
“No, I went to the training grounds.”
The conversation abruptly ceased there. In the awkward silence, Demian hesitated before speaking.
“Earlier, I spoke out of turn.”
“You made a mistake, too.”
“Yes, I made a mistake as well. I am truly sorry, Madam.”
Demian respectfully bowed his head towards her small back, which still hadn't turned to face him.
“What can I do to appease your anger?”
“Shout ‘I’m sorry’ three times from here, with your arms raised high.”
Her pale finger pointed towards the riverbank as she spoke. Demian was flustered by the unexpected demand. As he hesitated, remaining silent, a petulant voice reached him.
“You're not really sorry, are you? You think I'm someone who can be treated that way.”
“Absolutely not.”
Demian swore he had never once regarded Aracilla as someone so easy or trivial. He might have thought of her as crazy, but never as someone to be treated carelessly.
However, since he himself had only just realized this fact, it wasn't strange for Aracilla to feel that way.
“Shout it three times. Then I'll believe you. Unlike some people, I believe my husband is someone I can trust, you see.”
With her saying that, Demian could no longer back out. He steeled his resolve and gripped the bridge railing.
It was the moment he took a deep breath and braced his core.
A small chuckle escaped. Heh-heh, the intermittent laughter soon spread into a full-blown laugh.
“Demian, were you actually going to do it?”
Aracilla, who had spun around, asked, looking like she was about to die laughing. Her lips formed a clear arc, revealing her pearly white rabbit teeth.
Demian stared blankly at her, then let out a hollow smile. He had realized he'd been tricked by his wife.
“Are you an idiot? Do you think I'm a child whose anger would be appeased by something like that?”
“Hah… Is it fun to tease people?”
“Yes, it's incredibly fun.”
Aracilla grinned, then placed her hands on the railing next to Demian and leaned against it. The wide-open view of the river stretched out before her.
A cool breeze swept between the two, who had become noticeably more relaxed. Demian, looking down at the shimmering reflections adorning the evening river, suddenly spoke.
“You mentioned you were often told you were unique when you were young. I was often told I was crazy.”
