Tail’s Curse Chapter 39

 

The sea queen Calypso had eight daughters, and among them, the eldest, Nerissa, was abducted by a human who fell in love with her at first sight.

That man, who thought nothing in the world was beyond his reach, built a city to imprison his lover, who longed for the sea—and that became the origin of Narath. 

 

The mermaid princess, despairing over her fate of never being able to return to her mother, wept for the rest of her life, and her tears pooled to form the natural lagoon known as Lake Nereid.

“And that scoundrel, that kidnapper, happens to be our ancestor.”

 

Wayne grinned, pointing at himself with his index finger.

 

Cordelia was also familiar with the love story between Nerissa, the mermaid, and Zakaid I, a distant ancestor of the imperial family. 

 

After all, it was connected to her own family lineage as well.

 

The young girl, lost in thought, wondered which was worse—the man who, mad with love, defied the sea’s wrath and kidnapped a woman, or the man who whispered false love to deceive her for treasure. 

 

In the end, both of them were unhappy, so was it really the same?

 

When Cordelia said as much, Lord Pierrot frowned and replied,

 

“Both are terrible, but at least the one who truly loved her was slightly better, no? The latter was just a fraud.”

“From the perspective of manipulating and ruining a woman for their own whims, aren’t both the worst kind of men? Still, if I had to choose, I’d hate the former more. Hurting someone because you love them? That’s truly the worst.”

 

For once, Wayne wasn’t joking either. He spoke solemnly, “My, how thoughtless of me. That wasn’t something to say in front of you, Miss Cordelia, a descendant of the mermaid. I sincerely apologize—for my ancestor’s terrible sins as well.”

“It’s not my place to forgive, but I’ll accept the apology for the rudeness.”

 

When Cordelia responded with feigned solemnity, a ripple of brief laughter spread among the group. 

 

The sky was blue, the weather clear, and the wind carrying the refreshing scent of the sea playfully tousled their hair. Her calm, wine-colored eyes, devoid of any mirth, gazed at the white sandy beach sharply outlined like a border, the rolling blue sea beyond it, and the pale lake left behind, stagnant and alone.

 

They probably think that story is just a made-up legend or fairy tale.

 

But it is undoubtedly true.

 

Otherwise, the pain Cordelia feels now would make no sense. She stared up at the mermaid statue for a long time, her expression a strange mix of sorrow and longing, as if she wanted to dive in right then and there. 

 

Before she knew it, someone had stepped beside her.

 

Now slightly familiar with his scent, she deliberately took a deep breath. The mingled fragrance of the sea and his own essence seemed to seep through her senses, slowly creeping into her brain and heart.

 

“Are you happy to see your aunt?”

 

It was an absurd question, but it made her laugh.

 

“She’s not my aunt.”

 

“Roughly speaking, she’s your great-aunt, isn’t she?”

 

Noah chuckled. Then, abruptly, he spoke.

 

“What a piece of shit.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“That earlier remark. Both the liar and the one who locked her up are pieces of shit.”

 

Asking which one was better—what kind of nonsense was that? He grumbled in disbelief.

 

“Trash is just trash. If those bastards cross paths, throw them both away. Otherwise, they might be decent people. But if they keep justifying themselves, they’ll ruin their lives.”

 

At his scathing criticism, Cordelia hesitated before replying.

 

“But at first, you don’t know, do you? All the flaws are numbed, and everything just feels good, doesn’t it?”

 

“Have you been in love before?”

 

When Noah glanced at her sideways, she faltered.

 

“No…”

 

“Then why do you talk like you have?”

 

“Just… I’ve seen it. When people fall in love, everything falls apart.”

 

“…”

 

“And yet, they can’t break free. They just keep sinking deeper, feet stuck in the swamp.”

 

That’s what love was like for Cordelia. 

 

Even before falling ill, her mother was already sick—cursed by love. When her father came home late, reeking of another woman’s perfume, her mother would spend the day dazed, stifling her sobs alone, pretending it was nothing.

 

In truth, her mother was slowly withering away. She must have known—that his love was growing cold. But even so, there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t leave, couldn’t let go, and didn’t want to be abandoned. 

 

So she stayed like that.

 

Her dazed, unfocused eyes suddenly blinked—”Ah”—as a sharp flick to her nose spared her from further pain. 

 

Looking down at the small woman pinching his nose, Noah clicked his tongue in disbelief.

 

“Just turned into an adult, and you’re already talking like a seasoned divorcee. Anyone would think you’ve been through ten breakups.”

 

“It hurts…”

 

“Hurts, my foot.”

 

Even as he scoffed, he pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed her reddened nose. His face was indifferent, but his actions were meticulous. 

 

Why was he so kind? 

 

Despite his capricious nature, he acted as if it were only natural, leaving Cordelia flustered and vaguely unsettled.

 

Was it unease or unfamiliarity? 

 

She couldn’t tell. But if asked whether she disliked it, she couldn’t outright say yes—which was almost funny. 

 

No one hates being cared for. 

 

Especially not someone like Cordelia, starved for affection and respect.

 

“I’m not particularly interested in love either,” Noah murmured, withdrawing his hand. 

 

The young woman’s long lashes brushed against his fingertips, fluttering like butterfly wings—a ticklish sensation that sent a tingling rush up to his elbow.

 

Yet, his tone remained indifferent as he continued.

 

“There were times when I seemed so fulfilled that I wanted it too. But as I lived, I came to realize. That’s as rare and exceptional as a miracle. Waiting idly for some vague stroke of luck doesn’t suit my temperament. I’m a practical person, Miss Cordelia.”

“So, Sir Noah, do you not believe in love?”

 

“I don’t deny its existence, as that emotion is the root of who I am. But because I know it well, I also know it’s not easy. Hard to attain, and even harder to maintain. Especially for someone like me.”

 

“What kind of person are you, Sir Noah?”

 

At the teasing question, the smooth curve of his lips lifted. His reply was gentle.

 

“A dull and dry one.”

 

She didn’t understand. At her puzzled gaze, Noah’s eyes curved into crescents.

 

“Sometimes, I think of myself as a salmon that’s lost its way back home. I want to do something, but I don’t know what. I feel intense impulses, but nowhere to pour them into. So I throw myself into whatever stimulates and interests me—because in those moments, at least, I find joy. I don’t know if I’m seeking stability or waiting to ignite. Like embers buried in ashes, I suppose.”

 

Hearing his unexpected confession made her heart race. 

 

A man who seemed to live the most desire-driven, turbulent life was, at his core, steeped in lethargy and dissatisfaction—a contradictory revelation.

 

Cordelia hesitated before speaking.

 

“But everything you’ve accomplished is remarkable, and you’re always so busy. You don’t seem that way at all.”

“Precisely because I’m that kind of person, I scramble harder. A life spent just breathing would be a waste of me, don’t you think?”

 

His calm yet fiery eyes were like the sun momentarily submerged beneath the sea, biding it’s time for tomorrow. 

 

For the first time at this moment, Cordelia thought he was humanly handsome.

 

Pessimism and despair would not suit someone like him. He accepted reality, acknowledged himself, and did his best with what he could. 

 

There was no regret or shame in that.

 

Though both were skeptical about love, their perspectives clearly differed. His stance came from self-reflection, while hers stemmed from personal trauma.

 

How would he react if he were in her situation? 

 

Somehow, she felt he wouldn’t be as buried in fear, avoidance, and disgust as Cordelia was.

 

At her blatant stare, Noah smirked crookedly.

 

“What’s with that look? Am I suddenly dashing?”

 

“Yes.”

 

When she nodded honestly without thinking, Noah’s lips froze in an unexpected pause.

 

“Flirting again?”

 

“I wasn’t.”

 

“Then let me teach you something, miss. Men are weak to compliments.”

 

“Do you like compliments too, Sir Noah?”

 

“Depending on the situation.”

 

‘I’m still a man, after all.’

 

With a peculiar smile, he held out his hand.

 

“Shall we walk together?”

 

Cordelia took his hand and glanced at the busy Sir Wayne and his entourage, who were preoccupied with taking photos, then began strolling down the path with him. 

 

Though neither spoke, not a moment of it felt dull.