DYPIOOP Chapter 2

You Won't Believe This, But I'm a Real Spirit Mage

Long ago, the Devney barony—once a founding contributor family of spirit mages—had been walking the path of decline for a thousand years since the last spirit mage, retaining only hollow honor. Baron Devney always said that in those days, the family's power had been greater than even ducal houses. She'd thought it was exaggeration from someone prone to boasting, but if the Haelton ducal family was responding like this, it couldn't be entirely false.

Elonia roughly brushed off her cheap dress that she hadn't changed out of for three days. Watching her, the aide called Greythur asked kindly, "First, you must stop by the Haelton ducal estate. You'll travel by carriage, but since there are watching eyes, shall we fetch clothing from the Devney house?"

"No, I'm fine."

If someone from the Haelton ducal family appeared, the response from the Devney barony was obvious.

'They'll definitely try to profit off me.'

Seeing that might change Carvel's mind. Elonia clutched her thoroughly wrinkled dress and answered brazenly, "It's not like it'll wear out from one more day of wearing. This is easier than dragging things out."

Instead of adding anything, Carvel—who had been standing with crossed arms—gazed at her steadily. Feeling awkward, Elonia asked Nyx, who was stretching on top of her head, "Do I look that bad?"

[Well, wearing the same dress for three days straight is pretty bad.]

At his calm answer, Elonia scolded him in a small voice. "A water spirit who can't even do laundry. Useless."

[What exactly do you think I am?]

Water, obviously. Just as she was muttering quietly—

Carvel's sharp voice made her close her mouth.

"It would be best to refrain from talking to yourself outside."

"I'm not talking to myself."

"That's how it appears to everyone else."

At his firm words, Elonia smiled and shut her mouth tight. As if to provoke her, Nyx circled around her while saying, [Right, that's normal. You're the weird one.]

When she glared at Nyx so hard her eyes might fall out, he actually scolded her instead.

[Why are you looking at me like that? I have no reason to show myself to someone I'm not close to. Are we close, you and I?]

Elonia nodded unconditionally for now. But Nyx shrugged and said, [I don't think so.]

He calmly did a little twirl in the air, showing his leisure.

'That little—!'

Just as she was about to reach out—

Carvel uncrossed his arms and said, "Then I'll take it you understood."

Before Elonia could answer, he opened the door and walked out. He must have misunderstood her nodding at Nyx. Instead of correcting the misunderstanding, she followed behind him.

One step—the moment she crossed the threshold, curious gazes pierced into Elonia. Thanks to Carvel watching her with a gentle smile beside her, everyone in the corridor merely bowed their heads quietly. He turned his body slightly and raised his arm lightly toward the space beside him. The wordless gesture of walking together was filled with kindness. To others' eyes, he must look like a man gazing at his beloved fiancée whom he'd even visited in prison. But Elonia wasn't fooled. Hadn't she already seen that dark man's cold face beneath the mask?

From what she'd experienced, that face was just for show. She strode confidently to his side. Then Carvel stepped closer and leaned down. He loomed over her as if enclosing her in his arms. At the unexpected action, Elonia's eyes trembled finely.

'What, what is this? Is he going to threaten me secretly?'

Wondering if she'd misspoken, she glanced up at his face. Carvel met her gaze and slowly lowered his head closer. Thanks to his broad shoulders blocking others' gazes, it felt like they were alone together. Elonia instinctively pulled her head back. At this, Carvel let out a small laugh that scattered over her face. At the same time, his low voice mixed with his breath and tickled her ear.

"From now on, you're my fiancée, aren't you? I should call you by name, Elonia."

At the strange chill, Elonia's waist tensed up. Unlike his relaxed lips, his shadowed gray eyes were like a hunting beast. As if he'd cornered his prey and was ready to bite at any mistake. Carvel's sharp gaze swept the surroundings. Then—thump—he draped his large uniform jacket over her face and said, "There are quite a few watching eyes."

Adding a grin and a smile, he calmly straightened and walked away. Feeling somehow defeated, Elonia pretended not to notice and followed him with quick steps. With each step, everyone in the corridor bowed their heads respectfully. She had to admit—Carvel was impressive.

His broad shoulders and physique that didn't waste the title of Empire's Sword, and a height easily a head taller than the well-trained guards here. Despite all that, his face drew bold, clean lines that held cool beauty. Elonia cursed the world's unfairness.

'Who was it that said the gods are fair...'

She vowed that if anyone mentioned fairness in front of her from now on, she'd make them look up at Carvel. Thud, thud. After following close behind Carvel's back for some time, receiving silent greetings, they emerged outside and bright light welcomed her. Just before taking a step—

Carvel looked ahead and said indifferently, "I've prepared a carriage. Just look forward and walk."

Elonia had been walking just fine until now. Before the question could form—

Boom, Boom.

Large drum sounds echoed. Two strikes, deep and ceremonial.

The door opened, and Carvel stepped out first. Following him out, Elonia witnessed a spectacle she'd never seen in her life.

Countless imperial knights spread before Metika Prison. At the end of the long line stood a carriage bearing the Haelton ducal crest, just as Carvel had said. To Elonia, emerging into the world after three days, a man who appeared to be the imperial knight captain approached and knelt.

"Knight of His Majesty, Teylon Auspine. I pay respects to one who holds nature's providence."

When he bowed his head, many knights simultaneously bowed in respect.

Elonia understood, in that moment, why Greythur had asked about the clothes.

She also understood, a beat later, why Carvel had given her his coat.

To think there would be this many watching eyes. They'd put her in prison for fraud. And now they were greeting her as the living heir of something ancient and sacred. The distance between those two things, covered in three days—

The taste in her mouth was not entirely pleasant.

Elonia forced her stiffening facial muscles to move. Without Carvel, she might have spent her time in prison and been released still imprisoned. A bitter taste filled her mouth. Still, she couldn't show a stiff face to a knight sent by the imperial family. Just as she was about to bow formally to receive the greeting—

Carvel pulled her shoulder toward him and said, "My fiancée has grown thin from her time in prison. She needs rest, so we'll take our leave first."

Strength entered the hand gripping her shoulder. A quick glance showed he was signaling her to play along.

'Wouldn't it be fine to just accept the greeting?'

When she looked at him with mild displeasure, Teylon—still with his head bowed—spoke firmly, "His Majesty wishes to apologize for failing to recognize such an esteemed person. If Lady Elonia permits, he requests an audience with you and the spirits at the palace."

See the spirits? Elonia's eyes darted rapidly through the air. Had Carvel said she'd grown thin?

'How should someone who isn't thin pretend to be thin? Should I collapse like I have anemia?'

Elonia quickly sucked in air to hollow her cheeks, then answered in a half-dead voice, "Carvel, I want to go inside and rest..."

She didn't know about frail, but she'd managed the voice of someone who'd starved for three days. She heard Nyx's laughter trying to kill itself laughing, but her situation—unable to prove spirits existed—was more important.

Perhaps moved by Elonia's pitifulness, Carvel draped his coat over her shoulders and said, "Oh my. That really is the voice of someone who's died and come back to life."

He'd been the one who started the framing. Yet, his answer held faint amusement. When Elonia glared at him, Carvel calmly supported her.

With truly sympathetic eyes, he caught her chin and gently turned it to examine her face, continuing, "Are you all right? If you wish, I have room enough in my arms to carry you to the carriage."

"You're... really... bold."

"Don't be embarrassed. Your health comes first."

Carvel nodded with a smile. Holding out his hand to her—as if suggesting she be carried—was a bonus. Was he picking a fight? A new type of duel challenge? Elonia wanted to immediately slap his hand away and overturn everything. But she left it in imagination. She didn't have the confidence to actually do it with the entire imperial knight corps watching.

With a tearful expression, Elonia clenched her teeth and answered, "Still, with His Majesty's knights here, I should observe proper manners."

As she stepped forward, the knights parted like waves, clearing a path.

"Spirit Mage, are you all right? If it's difficult, I'll escort you."

Her acting must not have been bad, as Teylon followed while speaking. Elonia deliberately stumbled once, worried they might suspect if she walked too straight. Carvel glanced at her sideways and looked straight ahead, pretending not to notice.

His lips stretched in a firm line as if they'd never moved, but Elonia knew.

'He laughed. He definitely smirked!'

And whose fault was it that she was pretending to be delicate when it wasn't in her nature! Instead of resentment, Elonia stumbled and stomp—stepped on his foot. Unfortunately, not even a small reaction appeared on Carvel's face.

He remained the kind and affectionate fiancé. When the carriage door opened, Carvel naturally grasped her waist and lifted her lightly onto the carriage.

Startled, Elonia grabbed his shoulder and cried out, "Your Grace...!"

"You should call me by name. There are still many watching eyes."

After gauging the situation, Elonia leaned into the carriage as if collapsing.

"Seeing the sun after three days makes my eyes hurt..."

This was beyond what she could do. As soon as Carvel sat across from her, the carriage began moving as if it had been waiting. In the carriage where only hoofbeats sounded for some time—after a while, Carvel was the first to speak.

"Quite the performance, Elonia."

Elonia, who had been lying diagonally with only her eyes moving, finally sat up straight. She removed Carvel's suffocating uniform jacket and said, "Your Grace. Improvisation is good, but couldn't you choose a more believable topic?"

"Was there a problem?"

"What do you mean, thin? Don't you get an estimate just looking at me?"

"You look sufficiently delicate even now. It's going to get busier until the wedding, so I recommend you focus on eating well and preparing."

The wedding.

It had felt so unreal when she first heard it. But after seeing even the imperial knight corps mobilized, it hit her all at once. His head, which had been watching the scenery pass by the window, turned toward Elonia. Unlike his unnecessarily handsome face, he answered with an emotionless voice at an even pitch.

"It's best not to bow your head to anyone but His Majesty, if possible. You're the only spirit mage on the continent. You should be mindful of that."

"Shouldn't a spirit mage observe proper manners too?"

"Spirit mages represent nature. When has nature ever bowed its head to humans?"

He continued as if he'd been waiting.

"You'll have much to learn from now on."

"I haven't heard much about spirits. I'll be in your care."

"That's included."

However, Carvel continued in a clear voice.

"Do you know what spirit mages do?"

"I know they can read history from old nature and objects."

This much even she knew. Though the Devney house had not a trace of spirits left, stories passed down through generations had long permeated daily life. Carvel nodded and pointed out, "Right. But you're a fake spirit mage."

She almost instinctively defended herself at the word "fake," but Elonia held back well. She subtly raised her hand to state her opinion.

"Perhaps... for security and domestic peace, we could omit the word 'fake' from now on?"

He brushed past her words with a look of surprise.

"Since you have no spirits, you can't read the past. So to deceive others, you'll need to know their past accordingly."

A strange light appeared briefly in Carvel's eyes. He spoke each word firmly, as if there were no other alternatives.

"Memorize it."

"All of it?"

"Including family histories and unofficial information I'll pass to you as well."

Unlike Elonia's expression colored with shock, Carvel's face was perfectly calm.

"Oh, and what you need to learn as Haelton's prospective mistress too."

From his tone that brooked no compromise, there seemed no room for negotiation. Elonia urgently stopped him from continuing and said, "Why do you even need such a perfect spirit mage? If you're giving me information, you wouldn't need one at all."

Carvel's eyes, which had been answering quickly until now, briefly wandered over her face as if gauging her intentions. Elonia stared directly at him without even blinking, determined to hear this at least. After a long while, he reluctantly opened his mouth.

"Just the existence of a spirit mage is reason enough for many to fear."

He tilted his head slightly and spoke matter-of-factly, as if it were nothing.

"There may be those who try to eliminate you."

Elonia jumped up and shrieked, "You should have told me that beforehand!"

"I would have eliminated you myself if you'd refused anyway."

Even so, was this how to mention that her life could be threatened? Startled, Elonia calmed her trembling heart with deep breaths. Fine, she could accept the fake spirit mage part—that was the condition for getting out of prison. But she had no intention of living a loveless marriage while putting her life on the line. Therefore, Elonia proposed one condition to him.

"Fine. I'll just play the fake spirit mage role as convenient. But—"

His gray eyes moved from the window to her. Elonia continued firmly.

"If I'm recognized as a real spirit mage, divorce me then."

Carvel's sharp gaze swept over her as if reading her intentions. Elonia continued.

"You didn't even tell me it was this dangerous. If you don't believe in spirits, it's a request that won't be a problem at all."

"To think about divorce before even properly starting... Not very trustworthy."

"If you don't like it, I can simply return to Metika Prison."

Since he'd been named as guarantor, it would be just as troublesome for Carvel if she became a fake spirit mage. Elonia leaned back confidently and said, "Well, if Your Grace wants to pay bail as an accomplice to fraud, I won't stop you. If you want to contribute to society, I should join in this good deed!"

When she even shrugged her shoulders, Carvel frowned in displeasure.

"If you come at me like that, I could refuse the divorce out of spite."

"I apologize. Please grant the divorce."

Apparently pleased by her quick change of attitude, Carvel readily gave his answer.

"Fine. If you're recognized, I'll do that."