“Are you two close enough to speak so casually?”
Julian’s cheerful remark made it obvious—
He had noticed that Dory Wund was actually Cruello.
And he had poured me Baeders tea on purpose.
Cruello’s expression darkened.
It was a look I had rarely seen on him, but it was eerily similar to the gaze I had glimpsed through the mist.
If I had to define it, it was something close to murderous intent, and it was directed at Julian.
A tense silence fell over the table.
I swallowed a sigh.
“……”
Even if Cruello’s identity was exposed here, it wouldn’t damage his reputation.
And frankly, I didn’t care what happened to Julian Minerva.
However, losing a free key just because of Julian’s provocation would be a waste.
I couldn’t trust that Nigellia would keep her word, but that was precisely why I wanted more time to observe her true motives.
So, how do I get us out of this situation?
Simple.
I stood up from my seat and stepped between Cruello and Julian.
Then—
“Excuse us, something urgent has come up.”
Grasping his hand, I pulled him away from the tea party.
If Cruello had resisted, I wouldn’t have been able to take him.
But luckily, he followed me without protest.
…Well, it felt more like he was too dazed to react.
“L-Lady Siora? Lady—!”
Nina Holmaze’s voice faded behind me, but I didn’t stop.
Since the tea party was being held in the estate’s back garden, we had to cut through the mansion to reach the front gate.
I ignored the glances of passing servants and marched forward.
Then a sudden thought made me halt.
Where was the real Dory Wund?
Could she still be inside the estate?
A chill ran down my spine at the thought, and I quickly turned to Cruello.
“Why did you stop?”
“…Huh?”
“I thought we were eloping.”
The fact that he was speaking in his usual playful tone meant he had fully recovered.
I didn’t answer and simply shot him a glare.
He shrugged—then shed his disguise.
His shoulders broadened, and his height surged.
It hit me again just how large Cruello actually was.
But there were more pressing matters.
After making sure no one was around, I asked,
“The real Dory Wund isn’t going to suddenly appear out of nowhere, right?”
“Of course not.”
Then for my next question—
“…Are you insane?”
“Since when is this a question?”
“No!”
The way he so easily admitted it left me speechless.
There’s no winning against a self-aware lunatic.
“Was there some important reason for you to sneak in here?”
“No.”
“…Did you at least improve your transformation magic to be safer?”
“Nope.”
“Then why are you here? You didn’t just follow me inside, did you?”
“I did.”
“…Why?”
“Just because?”
“That’s not an answer—”
“I was afraid you’d die.”
I stopped mid-sentence.
Cruello watched me carefully—then his lips curved into a soft smile.
“Kidding.”
It didn’t feel like a joke, and that was the problem.
I opened my mouth but couldn’t find the right words.
Suddenly, Cruello grabbed my wrist and yanked open a nearby door.
“Cruel—”
“Shh.”
I immediately fell silent.
There were footsteps in the hallway.
The room was unlit, with the curtains drawn, shrouding it in darkness.
Leaning against the door, Cruello gazed down at me.
From just a hand’s width above, his red eyes gleamed oddly.
“Can I ask you something?”
His voice was a whisper.
“Why did you bring me out of there?”
“…Because you looked like you were about to do something reckless. And I didn’t want the Second Elder’s deal to fall apart.”
“You’re more rational than I expected. Now I’m a little hurt.”
He stepped away from the door—then suddenly pulled me into an embrace.
His large hand covered my mouth, pressing gently but firmly.
I barely had time to react before the door creaked open.
A servant strode in, heading toward the windows.
“I’m sure I left it here… Ah, found it.”
If he turned his head just slightly, he’d see us.
I held my breath, waiting.
Thankfully, the servant left without noticing us.
As the door clicked shut, a deep voice murmured against my ear.
“So that’s why I like you.”
The sound sent goosebumps up my arms.
I tilted my head up—only to find his face right in front of mine.
So close, I could see the exact shape of his irises.
“Every time you treat me coldly, it reminds me how different you are.”
“…From who?”
“Who knows?”
Cruello smirked.
Once the footsteps outside completely faded, he let go of me and walked toward the window.
With a smooth motion, he pulled back the curtains.
Bright sunlight poured in.
He propped one leg against the windowsill and turned back toward me.
One of his eyes caught the sunlight, making it glow a strikingly pale shade.
I found myself holding my breath.
“…Honestly, I was a little hurt just now.”
Then, without hesitation—
He leaped out the window.
I immediately followed him.
Since it was only the first floor, it was nothing I couldn’t handle in this body.
“What do you mean by hurt?”
I hesitated slightly, wondering if he would mention Amy.
“It was the first time in my life I was called stingy.”
“…Ah. Well. That must have been… shocking for you.”
“In that case, darling, shall we go on a luxurious date?”
“If you have money to spend, just give it to me.”
“That’s disappointing. I thought you’d understand me better.”
The moment we slipped outside, he completely stopped pretending to be cautious.
Now he could act as if he had merely come to escort me.
As long as I didn’t see the real Dory Wund, it was fine by me.
Soon, we reached the mansion’s front gates, where a line of carriages waited for their owners.
“W-White Desert Duke?!”
The guards, startled by his sudden appearance, gaped at him.
Well, naturally.
If someone who was never seen entering the estate suddenly walked out from the inside, anyone would be shocked.
But since it was Cruello D. White Desert, they would likely make exceptions.
“How… how did you come from inside?”
“I got bored waiting, so I went in to fetch my fiancée. Don’t mind it.”
“…Excuse me?”
Without caring about anyone’s confusion, he headed straight for the Bonetti carriage.
As if it were his own.
So he had planned this from the start, even following me in a Bonetti carriage. Sigh.
Just before boarding, he suddenly stopped.
“Oh, I almost forgot.”
With a snap of his fingers, a loud BANG erupted from somewhere nearby.
I turned my head—
One of the carriages had completely collapsed, its wheels blown out.
The emblem painted on its side bore olive leaves—the symbol of Minerva.
“…Is that Julian’s carriage?”
“Looks like they used some low-quality wheels. Then again, the Minerva family isn’t exactly wealthy.”
So petty.
But at least he looked genuinely refreshed.
Just a moment ago, he had seemed in a terrible mood, but now he had miraculously recovered.
Julian’s carriage could be a sacrifice for all I cared.
“That explains why you care so much about money rumors.”
Matching his tone, I climbed into the carriage as well.
All I could do now was hope that Nigellia wouldn’t hear about Cruello’s little stunt.
And, just as if to prove he wasn’t joking, that day, we had to visit every single famous jeweler in the capital.
Not that I minded—my wealth just kept increasing.
***
What was affection?
To Cruello D. White Desert, it was like a poison he swallowed knowingly.
Blonde. Female. Same age.
Probability-wise, it wasn’t impossible, but in hindsight, it seemed like an artificial coincidence.
Cruello had doubted them time and time again.
They were too kind, too warm toward him, yet they always left scars.
By the time Siora Bonetti appeared as the third, Cruello had grown older, and his suspicion had reached its peak.
Even after confirming she wasn’t sent by the Elder Council, nothing truly changed.
At first.
A convenient collaborator, someone he could dump the cursed White Desert onto.
That was all she had been.
But human hearts were foolish things, always chasing after something—even after being burned.
In the end, Cruello lost again.
A certainty that she wasn’t an enemy.
A presence that neither feared nor despised him.
A strangely familiar affection.
Those three things worked together, tearing down his walls.
A child raised among cold scales and venomous fangs still longed for warmth.
Yet this time, he thought, maybe it will be fine.
Maybe she wouldn’t die meaninglessly.
That relief was largely thanks to witnessing the miracle at the Harvest Festival.
But in hindsight, Siora Bonetti had collapsed from exhaustion right after that miracle.
"She’s too weak."
Siora Bonetti fainted often.
That made three times, just in his memory alone.
Each time, Cruello’s reaction changed.
The distance between them had closed faster than he realized, and the anxieties from his past had begun to swell inside him once again.
That fear had weight.
He no longer had the luxury of denying his feelings.
The two regrets, the two deaths, had left scars too deep.
The pain of losing had made Cruello far too vigilant.
Perhaps even too much.
Whether it was affection, friendship, or something else, he simply could not remain indifferent to Siora.
That was why—
The moment he saw Julian Minerva enter the tea party,
He had snuck in.
“Haah.”
A quiet sigh dissolved into the air.
The carriage moved at a steady, rhythmic pace.
Cruello, having exhausted himself with spending money, turned his gaze toward the person who had collapsed in sleep beside him.
Underneath her gently closed eyelids, her lashes trembled faintly.
Resting his chin on his hand, he observed her.
Golden curls, a vibrant and extravagant presence—nothing like Amy or Viga.
And yet, sometimes, he couldn’t help but see their faces overlapping over hers.
Amy. Or Viga.
Perhaps it was the madness he had once suffered, but even knowing it wasn’t real, he couldn’t stop it.
He would probably live like this forever.
Seeing their expressions, their mannerisms, their voices reflected in others—
Until they came back to life.
“……”
Suddenly, Cruello reached out and touched Siora’s forehead.
Once burning hot, then cold as the dead, her skin was now warm—
Ordinarily warm.
“…You’re alive.”
It was an obvious fact.
But to Cruello, it felt strangely unnatural.
He continued to watch her—
Until the carriage arrived at the Bonetti estate.