“Eve. Your whole body is turning red….”
“No, it’s not.”
The truth was, I liked the way Basileon looked at me. But that gaze of his—as if it could see through everything—made me feel almost naked. I turned away, afraid he might read my thoughts, my feelings. Then I heard the slow sound of his footsteps approaching.
‘No. Don’t come any closer.’
I wanted to say it, but the cry never left my heart. Wasn’t I, in truth, hoping he would come?
‘What on earth is he trying to do?’
I didn’t know why, but it felt as though my heart would burst. I closed my eyes and tried to think of something else. As long as I didn’t think about Basileon—if I could just manage that. But his image still filled my mind.
‘…Let’s not do this.’
I shook my head to clear my thoughts, and then I felt it—a warmth. It climbed from my back to my neck, to the back of my head, to my ears. When I opened my eyes, I realized Basileon was holding me from behind—more precisely, holding the empty air where I stood. I could feel his breath near my ear. It was not merely warm; it was hot.
‘Ugh, ah….’
“Eve?”
Perhaps sensing the slight way I tensed, Basileon spoke.
“Your breath is too hot.”
“Ah. You said that last time too—so it’s happening again….”
Each time he spoke, I felt his breath, and it made my ears feel like they would burst.
“Gah!”
When I shifted slightly, Basileon loosened his arms as if to step back.
“If you dislike it that much, I’ll step away.”
“No, no!”
Contrary to what I had been thinking, the denial slipped out.
‘What are you saying? You should tell him to back off, you idiot!’
“I never said I disliked it.”
Again, words that didn’t match my thoughts escaped me.
“…Ah.”
“I didn’t move because I hated it. It’s just that my ears felt a little hot.”
“If that’s the case, I’ll step back.”
“What are you saying!”
Frustrated for no good reason, I ended up raising my voice.
“Saying it’s hot doesn’t mean it hurts. I don’t dislike it. So, so… just keep holding me.”
Now it felt as though not just my ears but my entire body were burning.
‘Wait. How does one breathe again?’
Everything felt as though it had come to a halt. I nearly forgot how to breathe in this evil spirit’s body. Perhaps because I had said I didn’t dislike it, I felt Basileon hold me more tightly than before. Even without truly touching, I could feel the warmth—the heat of his affection directed at me.
“…Eve.”
“Why do you keep calling me only by my pet name?”
“Because I’m the only one here who can call you Eve.”
“And if someone else called me Eve?”
“I’d kill them.”
The firmness of his answer—without the slightest hesitation—drew an unconscious smile to my lips. Was this what people called jealousy?
“And if it weren’t a person, but a ghost?”
“I’ll make them vanish.”
“…”
My reason and my actions weren’t in accord. The truth was, this feeling was unfamiliar and awkward. The feeling of being loved. Everything I had felt recently had been like that. My experiences as an evil spirit had been more vivid than the years I had lived as a human. In all my life, I had never felt this kind of emotion before—romantic affection, the love of someone close. When I was human, simply surviving without dying had been a miracle. Things like this belonged to another world.
‘Is this how ordinary people have always lived?’
The moment that thought crossed my mind, the ghosts of my past stirred again, writhing as if about to surface.
‘No. Not now….’
“Eve.”
But Basileon’s voice cut through those specters, trampling them underfoot. That’s how it felt.
“Yeah.”
“May I interpret your feelings toward me as having changed beyond mere comrades?”
“I don’t know about that.”
“……”
“But… thank you.”
At my sudden expression of gratitude, Basileon flinched.
“For what?”
“I almost remembered something unpleasant… but you crushed it.”
“I did no such thing.”
“Just let it be.”
He didn’t press further. Instead, he shifted slightly, as though uncomfortable.
“It seems what you called ‘hot’ has infected me as well.”
“What does that mean?”
“Your body is truly warm. You are certainly an evil spirit, and the place where you stand is in truth nothing but empty space—yet I can feel warmth.”
Hearing Basileon’s words, it now felt as if my body were becoming hot enough to burst.
And so, though I didn’t want to, I slipped out of Basileon’s embrace.
“Ah.”
That brief exclamation carried unmistakable disappointment. Basileon reached out, brushing through the air where I had been.
“It’s still warm.”
The disappointment lasted only a moment before a faint smile touched his lips.
“Eve. The fact that you feel what humans feel—that carries great meaning.”
“Huh?”
His smile had already faded. He continued in a serious tone.
“It is information I have kept from you until now, but it seems your body has been preserved intact somewhere in this place.”
For an instant, my head rang.
*My body? Evien Montrose’s body?*
I fumbled for words.
“What are you… talking about?”
“The day you were discovered in the rose garden—have I told you what happened then? Do you remember?”
“Ah.”
That was the day I had gone high into the clouds and suffered from lack of breath.
“Yes. You said you were bound in chains.”
“There is one part of that incident I did not tell you. Back then, I heard about your body.”
“Don’t tell me… the ‘human’ who was presumed to have shared power with the Evil… no, with that thing—the one who chained you—told you?”
“Yes.”
Just recalling it seemed to enrage Basileon; he squeezed his eyes shut.
“That human… imitated your voice, Eve, to provoke me.”
He forced the words out, as though swallowing his fury.
“Years ago, after you died, your body disappeared, and I was devastated. But this time, the person presumed to be the culprit mentioned your corpse directly. Just thinking about it makes me shudder.”
“How could a mere human steal my body? Because of the Evil God’s power?”
“Yes. I don’t know why, but it must have stolen your body… for a reason. It cannot be for any good purpose.”
Basileon’s brows drew tight, his eyes blazing, as though he might kill someone at any moment.
“Wait, c-calm down!”
I hurried to soothe him.
“But just earlier you said that the fact my symptoms mirror what humans feel carries great meaning. I thought it meant it was connected to my body.”
At my question, Basileon gathered himself and studied me quietly.
“If what I have assumed is true… that is.”
“Assumed?”
“It is profoundly shameful to admit, but while my father—the former head of our house—still lived, our family offered living humans as sacrifices to that thing.”
He began to speak of the ugly underbelly of the Ravenwood family. Kidnapping, confinement, aiding murder, human experimentation… they had committed countless grotesque crimes. For the ‘Evil God.’ And for the sake of the family. For generations, the Ravenwoods had worshiped the Evil God, offering living humans as sacrifices in exchange for wealth and power. The Evil God desired humans; the family gained riches and honor. In a way, it had been a mutually beneficial relationship.
But a whistleblower emerged and exposed the family’s atrocities to the world. As the supply of humans to offer dwindled, the Evil God grew enraged. A terrible curse descended upon the Ravenwood family—upon all those connected to it, without exception. What Basileon witnessed then were sacrifices who returned alive. They had unquestionably died as offerings, yet he saw the strange sight of certain people resurrected.
“The common trait among those who returned alive was that they were women. But in truth, the very idea of the dead returning is absurd.”
“Right. Resurrection….”
“But what if they never truly died?”
Basileon’s words were shocking.
“What do you mean?”
“If they never truly died, then they could return.”
“But being offered as a sacrifice means death….”
“Ordinarily, yes. But I speculate that one could stage a false death. And with the Evil God’s power—even more so.”
Everything felt confused. My body—Evien Montrose’s body—exists somewhere? And I may not have completely died at all?
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