Bittersweet Memories Turned Into Heavy Black Marks
The next day.
With the two knights accompanying me, I once again paid the exorbitant entrance fee and headed to the forbidden zone.
(If the spirit’s anger was provoked by the lake becoming polluted, then maybe… just maybe, if I purify the lake, I can calm that anger.)
“Conversely, if that doesn’t ease their anger, it proves the pollution is their wrath given form…”
Muttering to myself, I knelt at the lakeside.
To cast magic.
Normally, magic required a magic circle. But as I was entirely self-taught, I didn’t use one.
Placing my hand on the ground, I closed my eyes.
The composition: water, wind, fire.
I constructed the magic like a warm-water cleansing spell, drawing the structure in my mind.
“Ζέστη και νερό.”
Speaking each word deliberately, carefully weaving together the formula.
My spellcasting wasn't the refined, magic-circle-based method scholars used—it was wholly original, and entirely dependent on intuition. And if that intuition was off… well, the consequences could be catastrophic.
In the past three years, I’d only cast spells a handful of times.
Because His Majesty hated magic.
He wasn’t good with it.
And perhaps because he harbored an inferiority complex about that, whenever I used magic, he would bombard me with veiled insults—like a petty sister-in-law nitpicking everything.
To avoid upsetting him, I’d sealed away my own use of magic.
(Looking back now… You really did endure a lot, didn’t you, past me?)
… Even for someone like that, I had once loved him.
It was a foolish love.
I raked at the earth.
With no rain for months, the soil was dry and fragile, crumbling easily, slipping through my fingers like sand.
(What was the point of this engagement? Why was I made queen? I thought long and hard about that, and pursued the role I was expected to fulfill.)
Even if His Majesty—if he hated me, I still believed I had to do what was expected of me.
“I trust you. If you become queen, the kingdom will surely move in a better direction. So please, will you take my hand?”
Sincere, kind, gentle—layered like soft cloth, his affection had seemed genuine.
But I learned it was all a performance… a mask—on our wedding night.
It was all a lie.
All for show.
(If only I could wash away even the painful past… with magic.)
Thinking such things, I cast the spell with a kind of prayer.
Skipping the complex formula, I focused only on the elements and chanted the incantation.
“το φως του καθαρισμού.”
When I ran my hand over the ground, the heat was startling—undoubtedly the result of months of bad weather.
I guided mana deep underground, relying solely on feeling. And at last, I spoke the final line.
“Ξεπλύνετε αυτό το μέρος──”
The moment I finished, a flash of light passed through the clouds above.
Lightning.
A moment later, a low rumble echoed across the sky. Surely, this meant a downpour was coming—
—or so I thought.
“…………”
But no matter how long we waited, nothing happened.
Though thick clouds loomed, suggesting rain was imminent, they quickly cleared.
“………… Huh?”
I tilted my head.
“Did it fail? No, I didn’t feel like it failed…”
I murmured aloud.
Cain, who had been watching nearby, approached with a handkerchief in hand.
“Lady Clementina, please use this.”
“… Thank you.”
That was when I realized my hands were dirty from touching the soil.
I took the handkerchief from Cain and asked him:
“What did you think just now?”
Kevin walked up behind Cain.
Cain furrowed his brow slightly, troubled, then replied.
“… It looked as if the effect was negated.”
“A nullification spell, perhaps,” Kevin added helpfully.
Nullification magic—unlike the five major elemental magics, it was a special kind of spell used only by clergy.
Its effect, as the name suggested, was to negate magic altogether.
Speaking of clergy… that would point to Lord Runken, whose lineage had long served as priests.
“Lord Runken, perhaps…? But I didn’t sense any magic being cast, and besides, I can’t think of any reason he’d do that.”
We had parted ways yesterday, and I hadn’t told him I was coming back today.
More importantly, I couldn’t imagine why he’d want to nullify my spell.
Still puzzled, I wiped my hands with the handkerchief I’d received from Cain.
And then—
A trivial, utterly unimportant memory came to me.
A long time ago, even before our engagement…
There was a time when His Majesty picked up a handkerchief I had dropped.
Why is it that only the memories I most want to forget—the shameful, bitter ones—surface so suddenly, so vividly?
The human brain is flawed.
I sighed inwardly, but still, I ended up reminiscing about that moment.
It must have been around six years ago.
At a formal ball, I dropped my handkerchief, and it was the crown prince—His Majesty—who picked it up.
That handkerchief was something I’d fallen in love with at a street stall during a secret outing into the city.
The fabric and quality were modest—surely not befitting a noble lady.
But I couldn’t help myself. I had been completely charmed by it.
The pure white cloth, and in the corner—a playful little embroidered cat.
Embroidered in three colors, the cat reminded me of someone I once called family in my previous life.
It was love at first sight, and I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t buy it.
It was the first thing I ever truly wanted.
And I had dropped it—at the ball.
It was my debut into high society.
Nervous, I had packed the silk handkerchief prepared for the ball… but also, secretly, I brought the cat handkerchief as a charm and tucked it into my chatelaine pouch.
Somehow, I must’ve dropped it.
I only realized it was gone while riding home in the carriage.
(The blood drained from my face that night…)
Because it wasn’t something a noble lady should be carrying, I couldn’t very well report it to the host.
I panicked, unsure what to do.
Then—it was returned.
Anonymously.
Along with a small message card.
“The kitten may be mischievous, but I’m glad it found its way back to you.”
“…………”
Remembering it now made that once sweet memory turn bitter with embarrassment.
It made me want to groan.
(Who would’ve thought… that it was His Majesty?)
Was that just another act, too?
If so… just how long had he planned to make me his puppet?
I forced my thoughts away, trying to shut the lid on that bitter memory.
Then—I was about to speak to my two escorts when—
Whoos…!
A sudden gust of strong wind swept through the area.
What do you think about this chapter?
