Chapter 58
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 58
Gabriel looked at me with a peculiar gaze. Reflected in his eyes was an unnaturally clear, vivid blue. I had always thought they resembled a cloudless sky, but seeing myself projected in them made them seem more like the unblemished surface of water.
“My beliefs, my philosophy, my ideals… everything I have built from the ground up feels utterly futile.”
So he wasn’t talking about Misha; he was talking about himself. Why was he suddenly setting such a serious mood? My skin crawled—I must be allergic to romance fantasy tropes.
Gabriel, seemingly oblivious to my lukewarm reaction, continued.
“It feels as though you broke into my world, shattered it, and are now rebuilding it from scratch however you please.”
As I spun, the hem of my dress flared low, wrapping around my legs. Gabriel spoke as if he were utterly helpless, like someone facing a natural disaster.
A presence that shakes one’s very world. At first, it sounded so desperate it could have been mistaken for a confession of love.
“That sounds a bit like a confession.”
I only said it to tease him, but Gabriel didn’t deny it. A confession? That?
I was well aware that Gabriel liked me, and I knew that ending up with him, the Male Lead, was the surest way to escape execution or a tragic demise.
But having it thrown at me so suddenly made my head spin. A wave of nausea washed over me.
A sudden discomfort welled up at the raw confrontation of emotion. The thrill of experiencing a novel’s event evaporated in an instant, leaving my heart heavy and my feet like lead.
“You like me?”
To me, Gabriel’s words sounded less like a confession of love and more like self-loathing. With his eyes gently downcast, he looked more sorrowful than ecstatic, as if crushed by guilt.
If Gabriel had whispered sweet, romantic words with a sugary smile, I wouldn’t feel this miserable. That would have been a flat, paper-thin love—nothing more than the Male Lead playing his designated role.
This, however, was the same spine-chilling dread one would feel if a ghost that was supposed to exist only behind a screen suddenly reached out into the real world. It was a vivid, grotesque sensation—as if the black ink on the pages of a book, which I had assumed were just letters, suddenly squirmed, grew limbs, turned into ants, and crawled toward me in a neat, orderly line.
He didn’t just love Evangeline because of his character settings; he actually liked me?
“Even though you don’t even know who I am?”
I locked eyes with Gabriel. Reflected in their clear depths was Evangeline’s face. All Gabriel knew was that I was a transmigrator. That was probably why he was agonizing over this confession. But were these truly his sincere feelings? Not just some pre-programmed setting? Was he not just infatuated with Evangeline’s appearance?
Gabriel’s body stiffened, his dance steps slowing to a crawl. This time, I took the lead, guiding him.
He couldn’t even bring himself to answer. He pressed his lips together and avoided my gaze. The fact that he kept dancing simply because he had promised to, even though he clearly wanted to flee, was so typical of his stubborn, upright nature.
The lack of an answer was actually a relief.
Right? Even you think something is off, don’t you? Peace returned to my mind.
“Sir Gabriel, you only need to keep me company as far as appearances require.”
I didn’t want any heavy, sincere feelings. If anything, I wanted to avoid them. The only reason I associated with Gabriel was to secure his protection and avoid whatever fate awaited me. He just needed to play along to that extent—show a liking for Evangeline, so that if she needed him, she could ask for his help, just like asking for a dance partner.
Perhaps I had pushed him too hard, because his complexion was exceptionally pale. Anyone looking would think Gabriel was the one who had died, not Evangeline.
“Shall we stop here?”
If we kept dancing, it felt like he might actually collapse. We had only practiced two songs, but seeing how well I could follow his lead, I felt confident I could handle other dances. Besides, it wasn't like I was going to dance all night. This was plenty.
Ah. Come to think of it, I was supposed to be reeling him in today! Did I forget my objective and put up too much of a wall? I think I got too immersed.
From his perspective, he was laying the groundwork for a confession, only for his crush to shut him down by saying they weren’t at that stage yet. He must be wondering what on earth was wrong with me. Was that why he was speechless?
“I actually like you quite a bit, Sir Gabriel.”
As the waltz, which had felt like it would last forever, finally came to an end, I gathered the hem of my dress, curtsied, and whispered. I doubted this would fix everything, but saying something was better than nothing. If I pushed him away too much, I wouldn’t be keeping him on the hook. A little lip service was necessary.
Since it was a given that Gabriel liked Evangeline’s face, I forced a smile. I rarely used my smiling muscles, so it felt incredibly awkward. My lips felt like they were about to twitch.
I stole a glance in the mirror to check if I was smiling properly, but instead of looking pretty, I looked like I was about to commit murder. I quickly let my expression drop. I really have zero talent for acting.
* * *
While Lady Rohanson went to try on some clothes, Gabriel was able to have a brief conversation with Daisy. It was almost as if Evangeline had intentionally left the room to give them the space to talk.
“I received the message regarding Mr. Phonor. It seems the young lady intends to keep him by her side.”
“Yes. She mentioned that Mr. Phonor seemed very repentant. I think he’s won her favor.”
For her to keep him close despite him being a spy for Bishop Zabaniya, she must have taken quite a liking to him. Fortunately, no information about Evangeline had leaked out. Since Doline Phonor’s letters had stopped arriving, Bishop Zabaniya seemed extremely anxious. He had even gone so far as to subtly ask Gabriel about the tutors Lady Rohanson had hired.
“I gave Bishop Zabaniya a vague excuse.”
“Is that so?”
Daisy mentally organized what she needed to relay to the butler, then looked at Gabriel with a curious gaze. She wondered why this knight, a follower of the Sun Goddess, was taking the young lady’s side. It wasn’t as if he had received help from her, as Daisy had.
According to Canna, Gabriel had shown a favorable attitude toward the young lady from the very beginning. Hearing that made Daisy realize she had reported Lady Rohanson’s impurity to the wrong person back when she was a nun. Thanks to that mistake, however, she was now able to protect the young lady’s secret.
“Sir Gabriel, why do you stay by the young lady’s side?”
At Daisy’s sudden question, Gabriel looked like he was about to deflect. Before he could change the subject, Daisy pressed him.
“Is there something you want from her?”
Or was he truly bewitched, just as Sir Raphaella claimed? Daisy’s questioning was sharp. Gabriel recognized her determination to wring an answer out of him. Something I want.
“Yes. There is.”
Laughably enough, it was true. Gabriel was not a man who acted without purpose, and he did want something from Lady Rohanson. Publicly, it was to clean up the aftermath of the spell circle. Privately, however…
The memory of that day was still vivid: roaring flames dyeing her white hair in spreading shades of orange. If his heart had remained frozen from their first encounter, he would have handed her personal information over to the temple long ago instead of offering his protection.
At first, it was undoubtedly curiosity. Like a flower blooming from a dead tree, it was fascinating to see a corpse moving in defiance of the Sun Goddess’s Divine Authority. Next came fear. He was afraid of what she might do once she shed the guise of Evangeline Rohanson. So, he sought to humor her, to stay on her good side.
But change happens without warning. A tidal wave swept over Gabriel in an instant.
When he heard that Lady Rohanson had uncharacteristically saved the children of the orphanage, a faint hope budded within him. When he felt her slow heartbeat, he realized that Evangeline was alive.
That was why he had dared to feel disappointed when she said there was no way to save the Young Marquis. Unconsciously, he had projected his own past onto Young Marquis Toten. He had imagined Evangeline Rohanson promising salvation to his younger self, and so he had felt a selfish disappointment when she claimed it was impossible.
He had assumed that an omnipotent being, one beyond human reason, would perform miracles impossible for mere mortals. He had arbitrarily decided she was human-like, yet in moments like that, he reverted to seeing her as something else entirely. He had presumed, of his own accord, that Evangeline Rohanson was different from the monsters of his past.
Paradoxically, it was through that presumptuous disappointment that Gabriel realized he was slowly opening his heart to her.
“Sir Gabriel?”
And so, he did not want to let go of the hand she had reached out to him first. The fact that he had clung to it like a child, without even realizing it, made him feel like an embarrassed fool who couldn't even grasp his own feelings.
Before Gabriel could collect his thoughts, Evangeline returned, having finished trying on the dress.
“Sir Gabriel, what do you think of the young lady?”
Gabriel looked at Evangeline.
“It suits you beautifully.”
The dress, which Artemisia had poured her heart into for days, suited its owner perfectly, as if the garment itself knew for whom it had been made.
Gabriel tried his best not to look at her exposed white neck. It felt sinful to steal glances when there was no significant relationship between them.
Oblivious to his inner turmoil, Artemisia kept urging him to look at Evangeline. When he failed to offer a proper review, she began showering her with all kinds of praise, claiming she was just giving him examples. It made one wonder if she simply wanted to heap compliments on Evangeline herself.
With flushed cheeks, Schmitiana hovered around Evangeline without a hint of fear. Her behavior was the spitting image of Michel, who had whined with teary eyes just this morning about wanting to see Lady Rohanson. Watching them, Raphaella had clicked his tongue, muttering that blood truly ran thick.
Unlike Michel, however, Artemisia didn't seem to have any reason to harbor such affection for Evangeline. Had something happened during her stay at the Rohanson Mansion?