Little by Little, Closer
It was truly pathetic for someone who called himself the crown prince.
Judging by how cleverly he had orchestrated everything, the true mastermind behind the incident must be far more formidable than expected. He had originally planned to remain hidden until he uncovered the full truth of the matter.
Was it time to abandon the idea of staying in seclusion until he had a perfect lead?
‘To think I would stoop to suspecting even the powerless consort… How disgraceful. Yes, the time has come.’
The gears of the past, once perfectly misaligned, began to mesh in strange and unexpected ways, turning with an eerie rhythm.
And at the center of it all—though no one knew—stood Pay, alone.
A quiet wind swirled around her, tracing an endlessly vast circle.
That year, in the depths of winter.
“Lucius, look at this!”
“Ah. All right.”
Pay, wrapped in the warm fur cloak sent as a gift from Grace Monastery and wearing gloves, was conjuring snowflakes with magic.
It was a lavish little display of magic, performed because not enough snow had piled up around the Magic Tower. She was practicing ice-element spells at the same time.
Lucius, who had lived for thousands of years in near-constant boredom, should have felt nothing for snow or storms. Yet he found himself unable to look away from the sight of Pay enjoying herself.
Is it pleasant?
Me watching, or her playing?
Every time her hand danced through the air above the slightly frozen ground, fresh white snow appeared.
Each time, Lucius felt his heart dance in the strangest way. His steadfast dragon heart had become like a puppet dangling from a string.
“Beep-beep-beep~ Beep-haaaam~”
Momo had tried to mimic the tune of “that march,” only to quickly switch to a yawn when Lucius casually picked up a large rock. The stone was blackened with magic, and Momo’s life was too precious to risk.
Still, the drakan had always waited for the perfect moment to rebel. If the chance came again, he would take it.
“……”
A merciless threat flew his way, shattering his resolve.
“…You’ll die.”
“Kieeeek.”
Momo often picked fights like this whenever Lucius was quietly watching Pay. Lately he had been doing it at every opportunity. It seemed his courage had grown too bold; perhaps it was time to pin him down and split his belly open properly.
Lucius had tried everything—grabbing him by the head, threatening him, even kicking him hard when he returned to his true drakan form—but nothing changed.
Does he think I’m going to marry the descendant of my enemy? I’ve already been betrayed once by the same blood!
Insane! Should I just kill him?
If it weren’t for Momo, he could live quietly for a while. Lucius had seriously considered it, but soon gave up.
He had already called Pay his drakan rider. He couldn’t take that back now.
No matter how he looked at it, it would be too petty. Finding another drakan to tame and give her would be… No, the best option was still to keep threatening and coaxing Momo into obedience.
Their nature was simply too vicious. Damn it. Cursed lizard, reptile, amphibian.
Just try finding a replacement.
Just then, Pay, who had been busy with something, turned and ran toward them.
“Want to see, Lucius? This is Momo.”
“Doesn’t look like him.”
The round shape Pay had clumsily formed looked nothing like a drakan. At best, it was just a snowball with something stuck on the tail. Honestly, it resembled a completely ruined white sausage skewer.
Lucius, never one for sentiment, gave it a lukewarm look and flicked the twig that was supposed to be the tail.
The packed snow instantly crumbled, the shape collapsing.
Pay’s bright expression crumpled along with it.
“Ugh…”
“Hey.”
When the usually composed Pay lightly pouted her lips, Lucius didn’t know what to do. He knew she wasn’t truly sulking, yet he still couldn’t bear to see her disappointed.
Damn it!
A thin thread of magic danced urgently from his hand.
The snow Pay had made gathered and solidified into a rather impressive drakan. Its wings spread wide, horns, claws, back, and tail all perfectly formed.
She gasped in admiration.
“Wow, you’re amazing. A 7th-circle master really can show off like this…! I’ll be able to do that someday too, right?”
“You…”
…are human. No matter how hard you try, you can never bridge the innate gap between humans and dragons. Ancient humans were different, born from gods, but—
Instead of getting angry about the 7th circle comment, Lucius had been about to speak the harsh truth when his lips snapped shut.
Damn it.
If he returned to his true dragon form and struck her once with his forepaw before the power sleeping in her blood awakened, she would die.
No, it wouldn’t even come to that. With the 10th-circle power he had painstakingly recovered in secret, he only needed to reveal a fraction of it.
Morgan le Pay—or Morgana—would end her life in vain and enter eternal rest.
Humans were always such fragile beings, weren’t they?
He knew that fact better than anyone. Back then, he had been swept up in destruction and revenge, realizing it too late. Now he would not make the same mistake. He could defeat her.
This is…! Yes, it’s just instinct. Just as humans who live fleeting lives possess fearless instincts, so do I.
Even knowing this clearly, Lucius found himself unable to move freely in front of Pay.
My instincts, having lost immortal life, simply do not wish to offend Pay in pursuit of safety.
Put plainly, it was logic that hammered his dragon pride into the ground.
Yet for the prideful Lucius, it was the best explanation he could muster.
The drakan, whose instincts were no weaker than a dragon’s, instantly sensed his private feelings. Lucius did not want to look too deeply into what those feelings were, or what they meant.
He mustn’t. Pay must never become anything more than a faint trace of the past in his long, long life.
Once I fully recover my magic, I’ll have to decide what to do.
Pay, unaware of Lucius’s thoughts, suddenly spoke with sincerity.
“Thank you, Lucius.”
“For what?”
“Ever since I met you, I’ve been able to smile freely and my heart feels lighter. Before… I was always told I was too stiff.”
“Behave with proper etiquette at all times. And never smile carelessly.”
That was how she had been taught, yet the people of the Klein ducal house had constantly grumbled that she was like a stiff wooden plank.
“Can I never become a perfect eina?”
The reason she could finally shake off the long years of worry like dandelion seeds.
The slightly awkward smile she had shown even in front of Holtdein now came naturally in front of Lucius.
She was so, so grateful that he was by her side.
Lucius frowned as he replied.
“Don’t listen to people who nitpick and say you should do this or that. If you do everything they want, they’ll just turn around later and gossip that you weren’t always like that.”
“Is that so?”
“You think I haven’t seen that kind of thing a hundred times? Just relax and be yourself.”
“All right. Thank you anyway, Lucius.”
“Hm.”
Yes, I simply don’t want to see the human who defeated me groveling in front of other humans. That’s why I said it. It’s not like I did it for you!
After rationalizing once more, Lucius glanced away for a moment.
In that brief instant, Pay picked up the snow drakan from Lucius’s palm and showed it to Momo.
“Look, Momo! Your master made this especially for you. Isn’t it precious?”
“Kuuwaang! (Die!)”
If he couldn’t take revenge on his wicked master, then this would have to do!
Momo let out a rather loud cry and opened his beak wide, swallowing a large chunk of the snowball. The form Lucius had carefully crafted with magic crumbled once more into nothing.
Pay grumbled.
“Momo! How could you?”
“Kuuu… kuueeer. (I was thirsty… That was good.)”
“Hey.”
He had barely managed to soothe her sulking, and now this again?
When Lucius’s terrifying black eyes blazed, Momo shrank back in fear and dove straight into Pay’s fur cloak. He burrowed into the pocket Sister Beryl had lovingly made, and Pay could only laugh.
“Oh dear, it’s fine. Whether it’s a snowman or a snow drakan, it’s all just snow anyway.”
“Fine, my foot! Pay, take that thing out right now. That brat’s rebellion has reached new heights—looks like the season of betrayal has arrived. We can’t let this slide.”
“Isn’t the season of betrayal spring?”
“Whatever. Hand him over. I’m going to teach him a proper lesson today.”
“No, Lucius! Don’t bully Momo!”
Pay said no more and fled with Momo in her arms.
“Stop right there!”
Chasing and being chased across the icy ground, Pay and Lucius were watched from atop the Magic Tower by Holtdein, his eyes bitter.
When he had first met Lucius, he had vaguely suspected this might happen. It seemed his own pitiful first love would have to be buried without ever being confessed.
“……”
“Pay, you—!”
“No!”
No matter how many times he looked, those two suited each other far too well. He was finished.
Utterly finished! Aaaagh!
A few days after the incident at the Magic Tower, once the snow had fallen once more, Cassel summoned Pay to the Mizuang Hotel.
It was officially their third meeting, but in truth, this was the fourth time he had seen her.
He had been appointed commander of the returned Blue Rose Knights, and a winter ball was to be held at the imperial palace in celebration.
He had also belatedly heard that the crown prince had hired a mage named Pay from the Magic Tower during the Harvest Festival incident to carry out some scheme.
He wasn’t angry.
He simply felt his heart tighten for a moment when he realized that the suspicion he had felt was real. Even after several days, he felt no physical discomfort, so he judged there was nothing wrong with his body.
I’m glad Pay is safe.
He simply… had something he wanted to say to her when they met.
“Hello, Sir Leon.”
“Lady Pay.”
She was wearing slightly crookedly knitted fur gloves. They fit her hands well enough, but the small visible imperfection irritated him beyond reason.
Why?
The worn clothes she had worn on her way to the Magic Tower, the way she had stayed without complaint at the cramped, unpopular “Blue Butterfly” inn, the clear face that had refused his expensive pocket watch gift, the bright smile she had shown over a single strawberry skewer.
And now, dressed in the plain attire of a commoner or mage—there was nothing wrong with it, of course. Yet seeing her in such modest winter clothes, far plainer than the useless eina dresses in his mansion, made him feel unbearably frustrated.
Cassel suddenly thought that he wished she could wear a splendid dress under the sunlight and laugh freely.
She went to the Magic Tower because she wanted to. I know that. Even so… every time I meet her and turn away, it feels like I’ve left something behind. Why am I like this?
Whenever he thought of Pay, he felt endless comfort, frustration, and affection—emotions that didn’t suit him at all.
Even for someone who rarely grew attached to others, the feelings were so inconsistent that he could hardly understand himself.