PSITAC 13
Chapter 13
Nael felt dizzy from yet another sudden attack, just like before.
‘I don’t like Your Highness the Crown Prince anymore. I actually hate you!’
She had truly meant it.
Nael slowly let out a sigh.
He knew Agatha had changed. The Agatha who had always exhausted him to death was gone now.
[Are you angry because of the feed?]
As Nael sat down with a conflicted expression, Hisha lightly jumped onto the desk. Acting cute, Hisha licked Nael’s cheek.
[You should try it too. It’s really delicious.]
“No thanks.”
Nael lifted Hisha up and set him down beneath the desk. Then he glared sharply at the feed bag.
In the end, he had actually placed money onto that small white palm before leaving. The bills he had pulled from his wallet had fluttered across Agatha’s hand.
“Damn it.”
Nael removed his glasses and rubbed his face.
With her eyes wide open—
‘Money, please. Money!’
Seriously.
How embarrassing.
It wasn’t like he was some obedient dog, yet he had instinctively held out his hand in that situation.
Nael let out another deep sigh. Once again, he reminded himself never to let his guard down around Agatha.
The Agatha he used to know no longer existed.
If there were people unsettled by Agatha’s change, there were also people who loved it.
Emma, for one.
Every night, Emma offered prayers of gratitude to the god who had taken Agatha’s memories away. Agatha had forgotten things she never should have forgotten—but at the same time, she had also forgotten things she absolutely needed to forget.
Agatha was no longer obsessed with the Crown Prince.
Honestly, Agatha had never been lacking compared to the Crown Prince in the first place, yet she had always become the weaker one whenever she stood before him. Emma hated that.
Just because he’s the Crown Prince, he thinks he’s everything.
Emma harbored such irreverent thoughts.
Feelings couldn’t be controlled, of course, but Emma had always hoped Agatha would give up on the Crown Prince and meet someone worthy of loving her properly.
And now that dream had come true.
Agatha no longer obsessed over the secret room, nor did she spend entire days lingering around the imperial palace just to see the Crown Prince.
And to say:
‘I don’t like Your Highness the Crown Prince anymore. I actually hate you!’
Emma replayed those words over and over in her mind.
An Agatha who hated Crown Prince Nael.
Now Agatha would be able to do anything.
Emma firmly believed that the one who had been blocking Agatha’s future all along was Crown Prince Nael.
Because of that, Emma had been feeling light as air these days—until Madam Verita and Butler Kerin stopped her in the hallway.
“Emma, we have something serious to discuss. Are you busy right now?”
“Ah.”
Emma immediately shrank back and shook her head.
Verita and Kerin were the true authorities managing this mansion. Madam Verita, in particular, oversaw all household affairs and came from a family of loyal retainers who had served the House of Stadiun for generations.
One word from Madam Verita could determine Emma’s future as a maid.
Emma swallowed nervously. It felt as though she were being dragged away after committing some terrible crime.
Did I do something wrong?
Dragging her feet, Emma followed after the two of them.
But what she heard was completely different from what she expected.
“Emma, one week from now is the memorial day of the former Duchess of Stadiun. Do you remember?”
Madam Verita asked gently. Her face held not intimidation, but pity and affection.
The tension left Emma’s shoulders.
“Yes… I remember.”
“I see. But it seems the Duchess herself does not.”
“Well…”
That was true.
But the fact that Agatha had lost her memories was a secret shared only between Agatha and Emma.
A secret between mistress and servant.
Honestly, it made Emma feel oddly proud. And it wasn’t something that could be carelessly shared with others.
“Perhaps she simply forgot because she’s been so busy lately. Or maybe… maybe she wants to forget.”
Emma awkwardly made excuses.
Madam Verita let out a long sigh.
“I understand what you mean. Especially considering the relationship between the former Duchess and the current Duchess.”
She turned her gaze outside.
The summer sky had ripened into a deep blue. Pure white clouds drifted leisurely across it.
Butler Kerin sighed deeply as well.
“To be honest, the former Duchess had little interest in raising children. She was always focused on affairs outside the household.”
His face darkened.
It was an open secret that Agatha’s mother, Seila, had a lover.
Rather than caring about her husband from their political marriage, Seila had devoted herself to that lover.
Thankfully, it seemed she had no children with him—but that was all.
Seila had very little affection left to give her own child.
“Even so, the former Duchess loved the Duke.”
Madam Verita sharply interrupted him, her eyes narrowing.
“If she hadn’t… she would never have continuously taken that terrible contraceptive herb. She held onto it even until right before her death.”
Looking downward, Madam Verita spoke slowly.
“Even if I can do nothing else, I cannot allow Agatha’s position to be shaken. I have only one child.”
“That… was what the former Duchess said shortly before she passed away. Deep inside her heart, there must have been love for the Duke.”
No one could truly know the feelings of the dead.
Still, Madam Verita sincerely believed it.
To lighten the heavy atmosphere, Butler Kerin cleared his throat.
That wasn’t the real topic they had intended to discuss.
“The important matter is that one week from now, a memorial ceremony for Lady Seila will be held at the Central Temple. Her Grace should attend the morning prayer service, and afterward, the memorial rites…”
His voice trailed off.
Kerin carefully studied Emma’s reaction.
“Emma, as you know, after the former Duke passed away, Her Grace suffered a carriage accident. Since then, she has never once visited either of their graves. People have started talking.”
“…What do they know?”
“Nothing at all. They’re merely ignorant fools gossiping. But because Her Grace stands in such a visible position, perhaps it would be wise for her to compromise this once.”
Emma puffed out her cheeks but nodded reluctantly.
She agreed with that much.
Wasn’t that why Count Damon’s family had looked down on Agatha and tried to push their reckless second son onto her? They needed to show people exactly what Stadiun was capable of.
“…I’ll speak to Her Grace about it.”
Emma answered quietly.
“Mage Ibrahim is to answer the request from Stadiun.
He must comply.
Absolutely must.”
Not long afterward, Ibrahim was once again summoned to Stadiun.
The reason?
He was considered the mage with the least work to do.
In truth, Ibrahim only appeared free because he completed his assignments with exceptional speed thanks to his overwhelming talent.
“Those incompetent idiots are always dumping work onto others.”
Ibrahim viciously muttered while rubbing his face with one hand.
Just because he was capable enough to finish his work quickly, they kept shoving these tasks onto him.
How much money had they accepted this time?
The repeated word must attached to the order particularly irritated him.
The apprentice mage dragged along beside the foul-tempered Ibrahim cautiously spoke up.
“…You really shouldn’t say things like that inside the Magic Tower, you know.”
“Why not?”
“Because I never want to eat frog-eyeball soup ever again.”
The mages’ revenge knew no moderation.
Whenever trouble broke out between Ibrahim and the other mages, it was always the apprentice mages beneath him who suffered the consequences.
“Tch.”
Ibrahim clicked his tongue and leaned his head back.
“You need to get off already! This is not the time for that!”
The apprentice mage practically dragged the resisting Ibrahim forward.
But the moment they entered Stadiun, both of them froze with their mouths hanging open.
The prestigious ducal estate had changed.
“What exactly does this look like to you?”
“You didn’t even check the request details this time, did you?”
“I figured I’d find out once I got here.”
Letting out a sigh, Ibrahim tied his long hair high and pinned it neatly with a thin ornamental stick before strolling leisurely toward the construction site.
“Ah! Hello there!”
One of the workers cheerfully greeted him.
“What exactly are you doing here?”
“They said they’re making a small stream in this area, so we’ve been digging out the ground.”
Ibrahim frowned deeply.
A stream?
Not even a pond—a stream?
“Haha! I didn’t understand it at first either, but they said a mage would be coming! They told us all we had to do was prepare the waterway, and the mage would make the water flow.”
“Me?”
Ibrahim muttered unconsciously.
“Oh! So you really are the mage? Yes, exactly!”
The worker laughed loudly, commenting on how strange nobles’ tastes were.
Ibrahim looked around at the oval-shaped water channel surrounding the area.
Even if the water circulated, without any inflow or outflow points, it would inevitably stagnate.
Which meant purification magic would also be required.
Ibrahim ground his teeth together.
“What in the world is this—!”
“No, Ibrahim-nim!”
The apprentice mage hurriedly grabbed Ibrahim before he could storm off.
“This is Stadiun! Do you know how much money they paid for this project?!”
“It’s not even me who received the—!”
“Maybe not, but during your last experiment you destroyed a wall in the Magic Tower, remember? Please.”
The apprentice mage’s eyes sparkled desperately.
A vein bulged on Ibrahim’s forehead.
Complete personality wreck…
Because of Ibrahim, the apprentice mage often suffered exhaustion.
Despite being called the “Saint of the Magic Tower” because of his appearance, Ibrahim’s personality was the complete opposite.
“At this rate, we might end up eating on the streets tomorrow, Ibrahim-nim.”
Scowling, Ibrahim finally turned back around.
“So all I need to do is make the water flow? Along with purification?”
“Oh, you still don’t know! No, that’s not all!”
The worker grinned brightly and pointed somewhere farther away.
“They’re creating a forest over there too. They’re planting trees right now, so they said you’ll help them grow! And besides that…”
As Ibrahim listened to the rest of the explanation, his irritation steadily climbed higher and higher.
Just then—
“Meeow!”
A tiny, faint sound echoed nearby.
