Rejecting a Confession Hurts the One Who Says No, Too
We went down to the cold cellar together and picked out a bottle of liquor that had been given as a gift.
"Th-this way, you don't… don't look like a beast…?"
It was Estelle who said that while I was making canapés to go with the drinks in the kitchen.
"That was a joke."
She curled her tail the moment she thought she might catch grief from me, and I felt bad for her. She had always been so confident and self-assured — it was a wonderful thing about her — and because of me, she'd lost that.
Once the canapés were finished, I arranged them on a wide platter and set it on the table in the sitting room. The two of us sat close across from each other and poured wine into our glasses. From the moment the cork came out, such a fierce alcohol stench rose up that it burned my stomach just to breathe it.
"Whoa, I could get drunk off the smell alone."
The red liquor in the glass looked so much like blood that it sent a chill down my spine.
"You going to be okay?"
Estelle had a weak head for drink, and it worried me.
"Is that concern I hear? It's fine, I'm fine."
Instead of answering my worry, she raised her glass and downed it in one go.
"Hey!"
I snatched her glass away in a panic, but the half glass I'd poured for her had already vanished down Estelle's throat.
"Pwah! Ugh… urk!"
Apparently it was far too strong for her — her stomach convulsed as if trying to purge the poison she'd swallowed, and she clamped a hand over her mouth and forced herself to hold it down. Half a glass of that brutal spirit, in a wide-bowled wine glass designed to concentrate its aroma, drained in a single swallow.
A flush bloomed across her face in an instant, her skin turned red, and sweat began to bead on her brow. Her breathing was so ragged that even each exhale seemed hot enough to catch fire. It looked like she'd steeled herself for something, but at this rate she'd pass out before she could see that resolve through.
"What kind of barbaric way is that to drink? Wait a second, I'll get some water."
I rose from my seat and was heading for the kitchen when, from behind me, came a sound I should never have heard — Estelle drinking something.
"There's a drink right here, isn't there?"
When I turned to look at her, Estelle's face was already redder than her own hair, and even the drink poured out for my share was gone.
I rushed back with a water bottle and a glass, and got the water into Estelle, who somehow, despite swaying on her feet, had not lost consciousness. She refused the water at first, but under my relentless urging she finally took two gulps and then doubled over coughing.
She was going to die like this.
I'd read in a book once that drinking something that strong that fast could be fatal from alcohol poisoning. I hurried to dispel it from her, but she had apparently memorized Dispel instead of the detox spell, and it wouldn't work.
"If youuu use the same school of magic it was cast with, it getsss counters, I told youuu."
Even in that state, she was worried about me.
"Don't worry. You're the only one in the world who can pull off a bizarre trick like that."
"Don't overestimateme."
If she was going to do this, why not memorize a cleansing spell instead of Dispel…. At last her head, lolling wildly, went straight for the corner of the table. I grabbed for her to keep her from getting hurt — and ended up catching Estelle in my arms.
"I'm sorry…."
She apologized and tried to pull away from my chest.
"Um, Vincent…?"
Straightening her posture, she brought her lips to my ear and whispered.
"What is it?"
"…Is it really… is it really not possible, with me?"
"What?"
She reached out as if trying to feel my heartbeat, laid her palm against my chest, and spoke again.
"I… I really like you. No — I love you."
Her voice trembled as if it would break into sobs at any moment. When I didn't answer, she kept going, as though the silence itself terrified her.
"Is it really true that it can't be me…?"
She leaned into me and buried her face in my chest. It was warm, and the dampness of her tears soaked through my shirt.
"I was the selfish one, wasn't I? Then… how about making Adela your true wife, and taking me as a concubine?"
"Estelle."
"I—I'd be useful, too. The Fifth Magic Tower is practically fighting over who gets to keep me, and my father is President of the Republic — I could support you whenever you needed it!"
As much as I pitied Estelle, frantically selling herself like that, my answer was already decided. It pained my heart, but they and I both had to let each other go. They had to release the person they loved in vain, and I had to release the older sister, the little sister, the friends I had only just found.
It was time to face them, look them in the eye, and give them my honest heart. I tried to pull her out of my arms — but Estelle clutched my clothes in her fists and refused to let go.
"Just a little… just a little longer… let me stay like this…."
Love is such an arbitrary, troublesome thing. It walks into someone else's heart with ease, sets itself up like it owns the place, and the moment you try to cast it out, it becomes the hardest thing in the world to let go of. I wrapped my arms around her trembling shoulders and patted her gently.
She barely held back her tears, then deliberately forced herself to act cheerful, behaving as if nothing had happened.
"Hehe, I knew I was going to be rejected anyway."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't say that. It only makes me more miserable."
After that, I couldn't bring myself to apologize again.
"In the next life, I hope it's you who falls for me first. Then I can get my revenge by rejecting you…."
"But in that life, I'll…."
The rest of the words wouldn't come out. For me, even in the next world, there was only one choice — Adela.
"Kidding. Because I'm pretty sure I'll have no choice but to love you in the next life too."
She wanted to cry, but she showed me a smiling face instead.
"I'm the one who said let's drink, and I'm sorry to leave first, but… I'm going to bed…."
I tried to help her up the stairs, but she refused without a word. She climbed the steps on unsteady legs, went into her room, and shut the door behind her.
"Estelle…."
Watching her suffer like that made my own chest ache; there was no way I could simply lie down and sleep.
From the second floor came the sound of a door opening and someone stepping out. I poured what Estelle had left in the wine glass into my own and drank it down. My throat seared and crackled as it burned its way down. But even that wasn't enough to get me drunk, or to make me forget the pain.
Footsteps were drawing near.
"Kiara."
At my call, she froze mid-step before answering.
"Hero…."
Kiara answered, but stayed behind me, not coming any closer. Keeping this much distance — that had to be intentional.
"You're a bad person, Hero."
It was the first time she had ever hurled an insult at me. She'd scolded me plenty of times before, but never once condemned me…. It must mean she'd been building up far more against me than I realized.
But Kiara was still Kiara. Even her own groundless outburst seemed to weigh on her conscience, and she corrected herself.
"No. Actually, the Hero isn't bad at all. The bad ones are us — we who couldn't give up on a man even after learning he already has a woman in his heart."
She had been the purest of our party, the one who comforted us through that grueling journey, and her despairing voice carried the weight of all their true feelings all the more heavily.
"When you were cooking with Adela earlier, the two of you fit together so well. You looked so happy then, Hero. And now you look terribly sad."
Seeing me and Adela together had clearly given them all a great deal to think about.
What was I supposed to say? Like a prisoner awaiting sentencing, I waited for her verdict.
"I wasn't going to say this, but Adela asked us to seduce you."
I knew already.
"Even though she says she has no feelings for you — are you really going to throw us away?"
"Throw you away? Kiara, I would never…."
If only I could, I wanted to stay with them all forever.
"The truth is, we came today to tell you how we feel one last time."
"One last time…?"
Kiara pressed her lips together tightly. I turned my head to look at her. Her hands were clasped together, squeezed so hard they had gone white.
"Soon, we won't be able to come see you ourselves anymore."
Unable to go on, she only opened her mouth again when her chewed, raw lips finally split and bled.
"If you ever need anything from us, please tell us now."
"Kiara…."
"It's just — it just means we're going to be busy, that's all."
It probably was just that. Their time had come to return to their original posts and duties. Refusing their hearts while clinging to the friendship we'd had all this time — that must have felt like deception to her, like greed.
"I'm sorry for saying this. Hero. Please forget it."
She bowed out in a voice that had shrunk to a crawl, and went back to her room. Only after I heard the door close did I move.
By this point, it had to be Emily's turn. I waited for her, but her door never opened. So I climbed the stairs and stood in front of Emily's room. I knocked.
"Are you asleep?"
Only silence seeped through the door. There was no way she'd fallen asleep while waiting for her turn.
"I came because of what Kiara said. She told me we won't be able to see each other anymore."
Beyond the door, the silence held. "I know I'm selfish. You can curse me for it. But I still want us to stay friends."
It was so quiet that I started to grow anxious, wondering if she was all right. Just as I opened my mouth to speak to her again, an answer came from directly on the other side of the door.
"Pay it no mind, Hero. The Saintess only said it because she was hurting."
To my question, she gave nothing but an evasive reply.
"Is something wrong? Do you need my help?"
"…There is no problem that needs your help. Your only task now is to build a happy life here with your wife."
Emily's words drew a line sharp and clean, and I felt a flicker of hurt — but no one knew better than I did that I had no right to voice feelings like that.
"You have nothing to say to me? Why didn't you come down? You knew full well what we were all talking about."
After a long silence, something thudded softly against the other side of the door. Her hand against the wood, perhaps.
"…What words could I possibly say to you, Hero — no, Vincent. With what face?"
"You said you were coming to confess your feelings one last time…. I have a duty to answer them properly."
"No… it isn't like that. I'm different. Unlike them, I only… I only wished to see you one more time…."
Her voice shook. "I'm sorry…."
"I'm tired. We'll speak of this another time."
It was an unmistakable command to leave, and I couldn't bring myself to say anything more.
My spirit was in ruins. How could I possibly face Adela without shame now? I had given up my friends, my little sister, and my older sister.
I went back down and entered the master bedroom. On the bed, Adela — wearing the robe I'd laid out for her — lay curled up in sleep, hugging a pillow. From the look around her eyes, she seemed to have cried herself to sleep.
I must have been too late. What a wretched night. I wanted it all to just end so I could rest. I lay down beside her and tried to sleep.
That was when it happened.
The flood of desires, and a small crack left in my spirit by everything that had happened today — and in that crack, the essence of the Demon King sleeping inside me opened its eyes, and pried its way in.