Previously
Noah presses Cordelia about the real heirloom of House Marguerite, dismissing the Mermaid's Tears displayed at Katysha's Imperial Museum as a decoy. When Cordelia timidly asks why he pursues such a legend, Noah explains his lifelong fascination with the ocean, danger, and rare beauty.
A sweet, wandering reminiscence laced his father's peculiar tone, as though he were drifting through some past memory. Even at his young age, Noah already knew what his father was speaking of.
Occasionally, his father would tremble with fretful terror even when his frail mother suffered nothing more than a mild cold. The smoldering fervor in his father's gaze whenever he looked at her plainly revealed a man who would become an angel praised by all humanity or a demon committing merciless slaughter if only she willed it, and his father had never once denied as much.
Whenever his eyes met his young son's, he would smile softly and raise an index finger, looking tender as if none of it had ever happened.
The boy had often thought.
Whom would Father choose if he had to pick between us and Mother? Not that such a thing would ever happen, of course.
Having to accept that one was not first priority in a torrential flood of absolute affection was a rather sorrowful, vexing thing. Isaac was a good son, so he would accept it with an easy nod, but Noah was born possessive and greedy.
I want something that is mine.
Something singular, extraordinary, and beautiful. Something only I can covet. Something permitted to no one else but me.
Just like Father and Mother.
“I am certain that the sparkling stone on display in that glass case is not the Sea Queen's treasure.”
Noah whispered sweetly, watching the woman through whose veins the sea flowed.
“Ever since I realized that, I've been dying to take that thing into my hands. Miss Cordelia, I've never in my life failed to obtain something I truly desired. So I'd appreciate a little cooperation from you.”
Cordelia stared helplessly at the man whose eyes curved in a smile, as if he were knocking politely to ask permission first even though he could rip open her chest and steal what he wanted at any time.
“I….”
In the irises holding the gentle, emerald sea, the predator's impassive face was reflected.
What should she say? How could she protect herself from this dangerous man?
***
“Wow….”
When Noah asked what she wanted to do now, Cordelia had blurted out the things she had always wished to see and visit. Without a word of complaint, he had let her do every single one of them.
Take, for instance, the musical performance by turban-wearing foreigners she was watching right now, or the brown bread in her right hand and the seafood skewer in her left. Dropping down beside Cordelia, who was staring blankly as she took alternating bites from each hand, Noah Tudor held out a golden glass of beer and took a deep draught from his own.
“I could have sworn we just finished a meal. Where is all of that going?”
His sunset-colored eyes glanced sidelong as grilled octopus and scallops went down her small mouth in a steady gulp. Could she be the descendant of a sea lion rather than a mermaid?
“It's delicious. It's a sin to waste food.”
“Just asking out of curiosity, but were you starved growing up?”
How had he known? Then again, she had eaten far too gluttonously. Yet she had no desire to throw it away. …Was he telling her to stop pigging out? As her large eyes darted nervously, Noah clicked his tongue.
“I'm not scolding you.”
“O-kay….”
“Ha. I'm not going to steal it.”
Finding the way she gripped the skewer with both hands both pitiful and exasperating, he let out a sighing rebuke, and only then did she munch happily, relieved. Sipping his beer, Noah observed her. She truly was fascinating in every way.
“Miss Cordelia.”
As she looked over with wide eyes while chewing away, Noah waved his hand.
“Chew it all first before you speak. Slowly, thoroughly.”
At his instruction, the round head nodded up and down. A soft laugh broke out of him unawares, but he covered his mouth and leaned back against the bench. When a snake crawled dancing out of a hat along with the sound of a flute, Cordelia's mouth fell wide open. She really was a child.
“Do you like that sort of thing?”
He had intended not to speak until she finished eating, but the words had slipped out before he knew it.
Cordelia nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world, her wide eyes shining bright.
“I never got to see sights like this back home. It's so fascinating. And wonderful.”
“I heard Jeneca has a rather large city.”
“After Grandfather passed away, the house fell into ruin, so we had no leeway for cultural pastimes.”
Unlike how she had worried about appearing destitute moments ago, she was surprisingly candid about such things. Tapping his index finger, Noah watched this contradictory little lady.
House Marguerite had been, true to its name, a family at the forefront of the pearl cultivation and trading industry. Even now, it was said that no one could rival their unique method of pearl creation.
Had Cordelia's maternal grandfather lived a little longer, they surely would have amassed even greater wealth alongside the empire's golden age. In truth, Noah was keenly interested in House Marguerite even setting aside the legend of the mermaid.
The House of Tudor was counted among the oldest noble families from the founding of the empire, yet this worn family, left with only an artless descendant, surprisingly maintained a history and lineage far older than that. After all, they were a bloodline that had existed even during the ancient kingdom of Nephalem.
In reality, the mermaid's legend was merely the spark; the history of their family was interesting enough on its own.
“I found many fascinating facts recorded in the history books while investigating your family, Miss Cordelia. Your clan always lived close to the sea. In ancient times, your ancestors supplied the freshest, most delicious fish to the palace, and later they farmed oysters and pearls before becoming jewelers who crafted and sold gems from the ocean. After that, they handled the salt trade and brokerage. Word even spread that Marguerite had received the sea's blessing—that so long as they made their home there, the entire ocean would protect them and bring them wealth. You were born from the sea and returned to the sea. When a new child was born, all the kin gathered at the sea to perform a unique baptism, and when you died, you were buried in the water. Did you also receive that baptism?”
Noah Tudor knew far more about them than she had imagined. Though they were an old, distinguished house, they rarely mingled in high society and lived in seclusion on their estate—or more accurately, never strayed from the sea. Such customs stoked an air of mystique while breeding numerous rumors.
Looking into his eyes, which held a blend of curiosity and greed, Cordelia felt a strange sense of welcome rather than fear. Their faded glory had crumbled, and now no one sought them out. No one remembered her family. Yet this terrifying creditor knew them and remembered. What was more, he wished to know more.
Even if his interest stemmed from a lust for treasure, Cordelia was glad. It felt like proof that they had not yet disappeared.
When Cordelia beamed brightly, he looked at her with an odd expression.
“That's right. I had a baptism too.”
Because I was the last child.
If a child survived until the age of three, the family would take them to their native sea to perform a special rite.
It had happened when she was so young that the memories were hazy, but she remembered the sea breeze that smelled not of salt but as refreshingly cool as Arctic ice, the stinging sensation of a fishy liquid from a small bottle being applied to her forehead, the chilling blue of the full moon, her mother's smile, and…. Cutting her thoughts short, Cordelia smiled softly.
“Back then, I only thought it was scary and strange, but looking back, I think it was a wonderful experience. At that moment, it felt as though I was connected even closer to my family. I understood why Mother loved me, her child. Because I was an extension of her. My grandmother, the grandmother before her, and many grandfathers must have felt the same.”
“You sound as though you envy your mother.”
“Yes.”
“You won't be able to live as a spinster, Miss Cordelia. Since you'll surely want children.”
Her heart felt hollow, as if the tide that had suddenly surged had pulled completely back, but Cordelia smiled.
“If I only could, being a mother would be wonderful. Someday.”
“Then just do it. What's the big deal?”
He was right. Yet Cordelia would never be able to marry, bear children, and start a family as everyone else did. That would simply be too irresponsible.
Glancing sidelong at her as she suddenly seemed drained of energy, Noah spoke.
“Don't worry. Even missing an eye, a woman of your caliber won't lack for suitors, Miss Cordelia.”
Dumbfounded by what might have been his own version of comfort, she muttered softly.
“Am I going to lose an eye?”
“One is more than enough to look around, isn't it?”
“How kind of you.”
“Was that sarcasm just now?”
“N-No, it wasn't.”
As she instantly shrank back and stammered, Noah asked as if just recalling something.
“By the way, why do you keep postponing every settlement to a year from now? Is there a reason?”
‘A year from now, if you take my eyes and my hair, I will give you what you want.’
And during his interrogation moments ago, Cordelia had named that same one-year deadline.
You're mistaken.
“That isn't the Mermaid's Tears.”