The Melting Mask
"Hello......" Scarlet greeted in a small, quiet voice. Sylvia responded with the same mechanical smile she had worn since childhood, the kind she used for people who had no bearing on her life. She saw Yoon Siwoo walk through the door, but the heart that used to flutter at the mere sight of him was now silent. It felt as if her emotions had been frozen solid, chilled to the core. She wished she had never felt those things to begin with; now that she had tasted them and they were gone, the sense of loss was overwhelming. She had leaped out of the birdcage that was the Astra family, yet she remained a lonely soul. It saddened her, but despite the countless lessons she had received since she was young to become the heir to the Astra name, she had never been taught how to resolve such sorrow. She simply hid it beneath a mask of nobility, just as she always had.
At lunch, Sylvia sat next to Yoon Siwoo, but it could hardly be called eating together. It was a comfortable yet lonely meal, devoid of any consideration, like matching one's pace to the other. When Yoon Siwoo finished first and stood up, she didn't even look back, continuing to eat slowly. She thought about heading to the store after lunch, hoping a sweet treat might lift her spirits, when she saw Scarlet standing there, hesitating, holding a macaron. Sylvia spoke firmly to the girl, suppressing the urge to bite her lip. "Like I said yesterday, you don't have to buy them for me anymore. We're not anything to each other now, are we?"
We are nothing to each other now. Sylvia kept repeating that to herself, desperate to ensure that Scarlet, who read her heart with eerie accuracy, wouldn't catch her wavering.
The next day, when she arrived at school, Scarlet was smiling from the morning. Seeing a smile on the face of someone who was almost always expressionless left Sylvia feeling conflicted. She had been worried that she might have hurt Scarlet when she saw her expression crumble after being told they were no longer friends, so seeing her smile brought a measure of relief. Yet, at the same time, she felt a pang of disappointment, realizing that she wasn't such an important person to Scarlet after all. It was ridiculous—she was the one who had rejected her, yet here she was, feeling bitter about it.
During the sparring class, Sylvia ruthlessly crushed her opponent and returned to her seat, quietly observing the other students. "Evande's opponent is Siwoo! Let's see a match worthy of two 200-point students!" At Eve's call, she felt the students' gazes converge. Sylvia watched the two who stepped forward. That was when she noticed something strange. Scarlet’s expression as she prepared for the spar was exactly the same as it had been that morning. It was an unnatural stillness, as if nothing had changed at all. And not long after the spar began, her suspicion—which she had hoped was just a misunderstanding—turned into certainty. Scarlet, as if her mind were elsewhere, tried to block a sword with her bare hand. The blade bit into her flesh, and blood sprayed out. Sylvia was shocked as she looked at Scarlet’s face, splattered with droplets of blood. Her smiling face remained terrifyingly unchanged. It was like a mask, as if she felt no pain at all.
Sylvia felt that just as she had always feigned a noble demeanor, Scarlet was hiding something behind that mask. And if that something was causing her enough pain to make the agony in her hand feel like nothing, if it was confusing her enough to make her try to block a sword with her hand—then that would explain everything. A memory flashed through Sylvia’s mind: the moment when Scarlet, who showed no change in expression even with her hand in that state, had looked at her with an expression of utter devastation. 'Perhaps because of what I said......'
She tasted blood on her own lips, likely from biting them without realizing. She winced at the belated pain, and her face twisted at the emotion that followed. If she could remain expressionless after being injured that badly, just how deep was the wound she had inflicted on her? She was wincing over a mere split lip, yet what had she done to her...... After Scarlet returned from the infirmary with her hand bandaged, she returned to her usual expressionless self, but Sylvia’s heart remained in turmoil.
Sunday. It was a holiday, but the heir to the Astra family could not afford to waste time resting. Following the advice of the family elders who insisted that since she had entered Aegis, she must never skip combat training, she continued her spirit arts training even on her day off. But Sylvia couldn't focus that day. Concentration was the most important aspect of spirit arts, but how could she focus with her mind full of anguish? Sylvia sighed. It was a gesture the elders would have scolded her for, calling it undignified. Fortunately, there was no one around to say anything, but the frustration in her heart did not dissipate.
As she stopped training and tried to steady her chaotic mind, she heard her phone ringing in the distance. She usually kept it on silent during training, but she must have forgotten to change the settings in her distracted state. She picked it up to see who was calling: Leonor Lionil. They had known each other since childhood, but they only exchanged occasional pleasantries, so she answered, wondering if something was wrong.
"This is Sylvia Astra. Is something the matter?"
"Ah, Lady. Um... how have you been lately?"
"...I am doing fine, but more importantly, may I ask why you called?"
Sylvia hesitated at the question, brushed it off, and asked for the reason. Leonor, whose personality usually favored directness over beating around the bush, was acting strange today.
"Um... you know. You remember the girl who was in the infirmary with me last time, the one in your class?"
"...You mean Scarlet?"
She was momentarily flustered as the person who had been clouding her mind suddenly became the topic of conversation. When Sylvia spoke the name, Leonor continued cautiously.
"Right. Um... you know, that girl. She seems to really want to be friends with you, Lady. From what I've seen, she's a truly kind and good person, so I thought... maybe it would be good if you became friends with her......"
Leonor hesitated as she spoke, as if embarrassed. It sounded like Scarlet might have asked her to put in a good word, but given Leonor’s personality, she wouldn't have said this if she didn't mean it.
"I know it’s sudden and you’re probably surprised, but I just wanted to tell you that. Please talk to her tomorrow... Ugh, I’m so embarrassed. Sorry, Lady. Have a good weekend!"
The call ended abruptly. Scarlet must have left such a good impression on Leonor that she was willing to endure the embarrassment of making such a call. A kind and good person. As Leonor said, Scarlet was surely that kind of person. And she, who had hurt such a person, had committed a terrible act. Sylvia took a deep breath and thought. Since she was the one who had done wrong, she would apologize to her tomorrow. She decided that she would do it, whether Scarlet cursed at her or slapped her. Her chaotic heart felt a little more settled.
When she opened the classroom door, she saw Scarlet sitting at her desk. Once seated, Sylvia’s mind became a tangle of how to bring it up. She dithered, and before she knew it, class had started, and when she came to, it was lunchtime. After finishing her meal in the cafeteria, she felt stifled and stepped outside the building, standing in a secluded spot, closing her eyes and sighing. Her head ached from overthinking. I want a macaron. And the moment she thought that, Scarlet was standing in front of her, as if she had known.
No way. Sylvia was flustered. Scarlet stood there silently, holding something out to her. After being hurt so much because of me, why? Overwhelmed, Sylvia squeezed her eyes shut and said, "I told you, you don't have to buy them for me anymore."
Only after she finished speaking did she gasp. That wasn't what she had intended to say. She had wanted to apologize...
"I didn't buy it..." The voice cut through her thoughts. She slowly opened her eyes. In Scarlet’s outstretched hands lay something wrapped in paper. Sylvia stared at it blankly.
"I didn't buy it, I made it..." Scarlet moved her hands to peel back the wrapping. Inside were macarons. Their size, their shape—they were clearly not store-bought. Sylvia asked in a trembling voice, "...You made them?"
Scarlet nodded. "For... me?"
Scarlet nodded vigorously. Sylvia saw the bandages wrapped around her hands. They were stained with blood, as if the wounds hadn't fully healed. She had made these macarons for her with those very hands. Even though she had only ever hurt her and done nothing in return. "...Why go to such lengths for me......" As she spoke in a trembling voice, Scarlet replied quietly, just as she always did: "Because I want to be your friend."
At her answer, Sylvia slowly reached out. She took the macaron from Scarlet’s hands with the utmost care, as if it might shatter. Then, she let the words in her mind spill out. "...I'm sorry. I was jealous and spiteful on my own..." Scarlet listened to her apology in silence. "I told you I never thought of you as a friend, I only hurt you..."
She had thought that because the person she liked only had eyes for Scarlet, she could never be someone she would like. After realizing she had hurt her, she had thought she shouldn't be friends with her. Today, she had only intended to apologize and accept whatever treatment Scarlet gave her.
"I'm just an elf with too much greed and a bad personality..." But Scarlet was someone who had approached her for who she was, not to use the Astra name. To give up a relationship with such a person was impossible for her. But she wasn't used to forming such bonds. "Can you... be my friend?"
She had no choice but to say the exact words Scarlet had once said to her. And to those foolish words, Scarlet smiled and nodded. Even with the wind blowing, she could feel the warmth of spring. It was a weather warm enough to melt everything that had been frozen. Sylvia smiled brightly, fearing that if she stayed still, the melted something inside her would spill over and stream down her eyes.