That Summer
“Shall we head to the Eliyum Art Museum next? It's the classic Eliyum date spot. They say you can stroll through the park, then go inside to admire all sorts of artwork and chat. The vibrant colors are a feast for the eyes and a great mood booster.”
Killian spoke softly to Emily, who was leaning lightly against his shoulder. The white carriage carrying them rolled toward Citéga.
Emily had visited the museum last winter with Shaylin and Olivier, but back then, as a mere maid, she'd been too busy trailing after her lady, fussing over whether she was cold or if her shoes pinched, to notice much. She hadn't taken in the scenery or the art at all.
Soon, they passed through Citéga's bustling streets, and the Eliyum Art Museum came into view. Nestled not far from the crowded intersection's open-air cafés, this cultural heart of Eliyum featured an adjacent museum, with a vast grassy park and large pond stretching out in front.
Statues, fountains, and trees lined the park in neat rows. Killian and Emily walked straight along the well-paved stone path toward the museum.
A bit removed from the grassy plaza stood a stone building, drawing Emily's gaze. Killian followed her eyes and explained.
“That's the Art Hall. They mainly host music and art performances there. The grand auditorium only opens for imperial events, so it's usually closed. Next to it, the smaller hall runs minor shows constantly.”
Emily blushed at Killian's thoughtful explanation, tailored to her curiosity. Their clasped palms were slick and hot with midday sweat, but he gripped hers tighter, unperturbed.
As they neared the garden, a pond of deep earthen hue appeared, flanked by trees offering cool shade. Sculptures dotted the spaces between them, while people spread blankets in the shadows, escaping the noon heat.
The statues varied—mythical beasts and monsters from legends, knights astride noble steeds, elegant ladies. “The park's nicknamed Sculpture Park,” Killian murmured to Emily, who was glancing about. “This is my first time here during my stay in Eliyum, so I regret not knowing more details to share.”
Here and there in the shaded park, nobles lounged on their stomachs reading books or picnicked from baskets, waited on by servants wielding large fans.
A little farther on, the museum's round, pale gray stone roof loomed close, its entrance revealed beneath a long colonnade of massive pillars exuding grandeur.
Inside, an endless corridor stretched ahead, walls crammed floor-to-ceiling with paintings, unbroken by gaps. Small sculptures dotted the halls midway.
In the lobby, weary visitors lounged on plush sofas. Unlike the humid outside, the interior was refreshingly cool—likely fitted with cooling artifacts like those in their carriage.
As Emily's wide eyes roamed the corridor lined with artwork, Killian smiled gently. “Eliyum's museum is a miniature Leysha. Theirs is five times larger, right by the palace. Someday, with you...”
A high-pitched woman's voice cut him off. “Lord Loren?”
Killian turned toward the caller. Emily followed suit.
A group approached, beaming at him: two lavishly dressed women and one man.
One woman wore an extravagantly ornate dress, jewels on her neck and hair glittering blindingly. The other, more simply attired, outshone her in beauty.
“Oh, what a surprise running into you here.” The flashy woman fluttered her jewel-encrusted lace fan dramatically in a shrill tone. Killian bowed slightly in greeting.
“Lady Crawford. An honor.”
“Such an unexpected place to meet—you're most welcome. I heard you'd gone to the western continent, but I thought you'd be in Aujsiras with your grandfather, Count Loren. Eliyum, and a museum, no less! What serendipity. We were just talking about you. Truly, His Majesty Isildur's mysterious providence never ceases to amaze.”
Lady Crawford narrowed her golden eyes, shaking the decorative gems atop her shoulder-length, curly brown hair with exaggerated flair. She seemed Killian's age, her face above average, but her ostentatious adornments and haughty air made her the most striking in the group.
“Quite the coincidence, Lord Loren.”
“I never imagined you'd be here.” The beauty beside her chimed in, fluttering her fan as well.
The short, sturdy man with them spoke too. Shorter than most men, he cut a solid figure in fine tailoring. His brown hair was ordinary, but his eyes matched Lady Crawford's golden gleam, sparkling unusually.
“Lady Beaumont, Baron Crawford—an honor.” Killian bowed politely to them both.
Lady Crawford's gaze naturally shifted to Emily beside him. As she scrutinized her, Lady Beaumont and Baron Crawford followed suit.
Lady Crawford's stare pierced like daggers; Emily ducked her head under the sudden scrutiny. She tried to pull her hand free from Killian's, but he held firm.
“And who might this lovely lady be? She looks unfamiliar.” Baron Crawford asked curiously. Killian flashed a mischievous smile.
“A fairy.”
“What?” Lady Crawford snapped back in a slightly irritated high pitch, glaring at Emily.
Killian's lips curved as he addressed them. “She can't reveal her identity, or the spell breaks at sunset. Maybe an elf in human guise—or a dragon. A mystery even to me. So, if you'll forgive the rudeness, I'd like to savor our precious time.”
Squeezing Emily's hand, he spoke lowly. Baron Crawford eyed her up and down, nodding slowly.
“Well, if you say so. Enviable—a museum stroll with a fairy.”
“No, brother, if you say things like...” Seizing Lady Crawford's moment of protest, Killian bowed to them and led Emily away by the hand.
Her scorching glare bored into Emily's back. Killian quickened his pace slightly but matched her stride, heading down the corridor.
Once far enough, he stopped and looked down at her. “Are you all right? Those people...”
Emily asked worriedly. Killian nodded faintly.
“Getting caught on a date like this... but I've imagined such scenarios countless times. Ever since riding through the night and grasping your wrist this morning, I've been prepared.”
Emily's heart grew heavy. A high noble like him, exposed strolling hand-in-hand with her—word would spread through high society fast. What could have been a simple day's outing had ballooned uncontrollably. Especially Lady Crawford's gaze on Killian—unnerving. Her golden eyes, blazing at Emily like a rival's, shot feral daggers.
Glancing back, Emily saw Lady Crawford fluttering her fan, glaring their way while talking animatedly.
“Worry not.” Killian met her eyes, voice low, squeezing her hand reassuringly. But Emily fretted for him. Parading with a commoner like her would invite endless scandal.
“They'll never uncover who you are. Even I might not recognize you on the street like this. Shall we continue viewing the art?”
She followed his lead up the stairs, though unease lingered. The second floor was quieter than below. Killian explained familiar pieces in detail; Emily listened raptly.
By the time they exited the museum, the midday sun arced westward. They headed through the grassy park to the avenue where their carriage waited.
Emily's feet ached from the unfamiliar silver leather shoes from Trevere that morning—soles stinging, heels throbbing. Killian noticed her grimaces and steered her away from the carriage.
A short walk from the museum lay Citéga's intersection, lined with quaint open-air cafés. He seated her at the nearest shaded wooden table.
The moment she sat, the pain vanished like magic. Her face brightened; Killian smiled.
“My sister took ages adjusting to new shoes too. She walked frowning just like you—my hunch was right.”
“Yes...”
After studying her face a while, he unfolded the menu.
“Care for a drink while we rest? What would you like?”
The tea house menu listed teas and juices. Summer heat killed her appetite for tea; she picked a safe orange juice. Killian chose passion fruit, jotting orders on the thick pad and summoning a server with a gesture.
As the server tore off the sheet and left, only Killian's gaze remained fixed on her.
They stared awkwardly, hands still hot below the table.
“Hey, Lord Loren!” A man's loud call rang from the street.
Killian frowned slightly at the intruder. The brown-haired young man, a bit younger than him, hurried over and stood by Killian.
“No, hyung.” He said familiarly.
Killian sighed shortly, looking up. “Lord Fred.”
The man clapped Killian's shoulder. “Call me by name. You always keep distance. You call Evril noona fine. But hey, heard you had a fairy with you.”
His eyes met Emily's, crinkling playfully. “A real fairy. Wow, Lady Crawford's gonna combust. Beauty to eclipse a duke's lady.”
“Zekrit.” Killian cut him off lowly, calling his name.
“How'd you get here?”
Zekrit grinned brightly. “With sis, of course. She wanted alone time, borrowed a Duval place. I'm crashing at Count Ezeget's now—Templeton nobles are dull. Oh, you're Templeton's summer festival envoy soon, right? Baffling you're even in the west now. For this fairy lady, maybe?”
“Zekrit.” Killian's tone edged irritation.
Zekrit pressed on brightly. “Anyway. Last night at a party, I nagged an Akslon mage all night for a spell. He said mana distribution varies by place—try chanting in new spots, it might click. Heard from Baron Crawford at the museum you had a fairy, so I bolted here.”
Zekrit smiled at Emily. “With a fairy here, worth a shot. Oh, paper!”
He tore a sheet from the order pad, held it up, and focused on her.
“Fairy lady, help me! Er!”
No change. Killian sighed deeply.
At Killian's look, Zekrit forced a grin and shouted again. “Er!”
Still nothing. Killian glared openly annoyed. Zekrit slumped. “One last try.”
He steeled himself. Watching, Emily unwittingly mouthed inwardly, Er.
Suddenly, the paper in Zekrit's hand burst into flames. Emily's left palm prickled sharply.
Zekrit's eyes bulged; he dropped it in disbelief. It burned midair, crumbling to ash on the street.
“Whoa! It worked! For real! Wow!” Zekrit jumped, eyeing the ashes. Glancing around, he yelled, “What now? Hyung, am I a mage? Goosebumps! Fairy lady's magic?”
As Zekrit stared piercingly, Killian stood. Looming over the shorter man, he said, “Baron Crawford didn't warn you not to disturb a fairy encounter? Leave us now. Understood?”
Zekrit eyed the ashes, nodded. “Yeah. Gotta ask for more spells. Just in case. See ya, hyung—in Leysha.”
He sauntered off lightly. Killian sighed long, sinking back down.
Emily and Killian met eyes and shared faint smiles. The server arrived with juices.
“No more interruptions now, I hope.”
Emily smiled slightly at Killian's words, but her mind raced over the incident. When she'd thought Er, the paper ignited—and her palm stung oddly. What did it mean?
Killian, sensing her absorption, stayed silent. They sipped cool juices quietly as the fierce midday sun waned, day fading.
Zekrit appears in chapter 68. Shaylin's little brother. Magic otaku.
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Eek... The recommendation fairy has appeared!!!