Until just ten minutes before meeting Renata, Theodore had been discussing quite a heavy topic in the basement of Fog.

 

“The moment I pretended to lose interest, Lady Brenman’s eye color started gradually turning red…”

 

Leaning back in his chair, Theodore sat with his long legs crossed, rhythmically tapping his toe.

 

He tried to recall what color Ailet Brenman’s eyes had originally been, but the more he tried, the more someone else took over his mind.

 

Neatly tied-up brown hair, emerald-green eyes. 

 

The face of the woman who looked so good in a white blouse—the one dominating his brain—was flushed bright red like a tomato.

 

‘Crazy bastard.’

 

To think of anyone else—let alone his own aide—while discussing a serious matter.

 

And not just any image, but that small, pale face with adorably flushed cheeks right after their lips had met.

 

‘Insane fucker.’

 

Theodore sank into intense self-loathing.

 

And for good reason, the first time he ever saw Renata, she had been only eight years old.

 

His mentor’s daughter, a tiny little kid—the kind of girl who made him think, If I had a younger sister, would I feel this way about her? 

 

A woman four years younger than him.

 

To have such filthy, low-class delusions about someone who was practically a little sister?

 

‘No matter how much I’ve been messing around too much lately…’

 

It had been fun to see her stubbornly charge back without backing down. It had been amusing to subtly tease her and watch her get flustered and avoid him. 

 

So he kept poking at her mischievously.

 

As the days passed, the intensity only increased—and in the end, he was the one who fell headfirst into the mire.

 

Whenever there was a spare moment, he would think of Renata like this. He kept replaying the touch of her hand on him. 

 

Wondering why she had closed her eyes at that exact moment… all these damn thoughts…

 

‘Not just crazy—am I a pervert?’

 

Yes. Renata had done nothing wrong at all.

 

The one who always provided the cause was him. She had simply gotten innocently caught up in it, nothing more.

 

To be honest, the kiss that happened in that place could have been stopped the instant their lips touched.

 

Whether she wrapped her arms around his neck or grabbed his collar, all he had to do was push her away—he held the overwhelming advantage in strength.

 

Yet he made excuses, claiming she was holding onto him, and surrendered his body to her. He gave in to the desire to slip deeper inside and played along with his own tricks.

 

Moreover, the fact that the moment he arrived at the scene of the incident, all he could think about was Renata—it was utterly pathetic.

 

If only he had stopped at merely recalling it to this extent, that would have been fine. 

 

But Theodore’s capable brain was displaying its unnecessary talents in all the wrong places.

 

For example, what if, instead of standing there stupidly dazed in that moment, he had greedily pulled her into his arms? 

 

What if, instead of panicking and fumbling, he had explored a little deeper?

 

What if he had smoothly brushed off her “let go” with a sly remark—“If you hate it that much, shouldn’t you have slapped my cheek first?”—and then kissed her again?

 

What if he had taken advantage of her flustered confusion, scooped her up, and laid her down on the table…?

 

He let his dreams run wild and produced whatever conclusions he pleased from that scenario—and every night he woke up drowning in self-disgust.

 

‘No matter what, dreaming about it like this isn’t ordinary madness.’

 

To be completely honest, even after waking up, there were times when he sat there blankly for a while, replaying the Renata from his dream.

 

At first, it was mostly Renata who looked at him with contempt.

 

Lately, though, she appeared with an attitude that seemed annoyed yet somehow accepting of him. He had replayed it so many times that the delusions in his head had started running wild on their own.

 

‘Keep pushing me away from now on, Renata.’

 

That was why Theodore had no choice but to rely on Renata’s rational thinking.

 

From the very beginning, she had consistently said things like, “Let’s just pretend it never happened,” or “We both got hurt, so let’s not make a big deal out of it and move on.”

 

How ideal. How wise.

 

The other party had handled it far more maturely than he had and had already returned to her normal daily life long ago—yet here he was, in this miserable state.

 

‘Piece of trash.’

 

And at such an important time, no less.

 

Pathetic. So damn pathetic.

 

Of course, since he hadn’t actually done anything in reality, this shameless prince was in the middle of rationalizing to himself that it was fine to indulge in fantasies to this extent.

 

He had no intention of causing any real trouble if he could help it. Not yet, at least.

 

“Throughout all of history, there have been a few people with pinkish eyes, but aside from one single individual, there has never been anyone with completely vivid crimson pupils.”

 

“…The news that such an exceedingly rare blood-red eye might appear in the Brenman marquis household is hardly pleasant.”

 

Theodore slowly crossed his arms with a perfectly calm expression, slipping back into the conversation as naturally as if he had never been lost in his own thoughts.

 

“Could it be that Lady Brenman has manifested the qualities to become a great mage? From what I’ve observed so far, that seemed impossible.”

 

He spoke so nonchalantly that the subordinates seated around him assumed his prolonged silence had simply been him meticulously devising some intricate strategy.

 

Ah—of course, he had already formulated the future plan while receiving the report; all that remained was the execution phase.

 

“As you say, no such distinct magical power has been measured yet, but we will continue to monitor her closely.”

 

The magical trait Theodore had identified in Ailet Brenman was in the field of healing.

 

So even if Ailet were to suddenly awaken her abilities, it wouldn’t pose much of a threat.

 

At most, it would simply result in a dramatic growth of her innate specialty.

 

The real problem was how obnoxiously the Marquis Brenman would boast about this rare eye color—and how clearly Theodore could already picture him spouting nonsense about how God had chosen his daughter for the crown prince.

 

“He might even start advocating for theocracy at this rate. Me, being assigned the glorious role of executing God’s chosen messenger—what an honor.”

 

Confirming that the document in front of him had already reached its final page, Theodore clicked his tongue briefly and rose from his seat.

 

“Three days ago, I sensed an unusual magical energy. Upon investigation, it turned out to be traces of a teleportation…”

 

Theodore was neither a mage nor an alchemist, but having wielded a sword for a long time, his ki perception was exceptionally sharp.

 

As a result, while it might be difficult for him to notice minor ability users coming and going in the city, anyone carrying an unusual aura or possessing powerful strength would be detected almost immediately.

 

A few days earlier, he had sensed someone with a rather unfamiliar—and far stronger—magical power than most mages suddenly appear right in the middle of the capital.

 

“Considering that only the Tower Master is capable of using magic of such a high level, it seems he has come to the capital earlier than expected. As you all know, mages generally aren’t known for having particularly gentle personalities.”

 

Theodore, about to continue, suddenly jerked his head to the side and quickly swallowed the rest of his words.

 

“So if any of you encounter someone suspected to be the Tower Master, take good care of yourselves and report it to me immediately.”

 

🦋

 

The scene Theodore witnessed upon leaving the meeting was Renata holding hands with a man and staring intently into each other’s eyes.

 

‘What the hell is this…!’

 

Theodore physically experienced what it meant for one’s eyes to roll back in fury as he impulsively pulled Renata into his arms.

 

My aide—my Renata—meeting another man? Why?

 

And she was the one who approached him first? Why?

 

The woman who only ever talks business with me day and night, who suddenly goes up to some guy she’s never met before—who looks like a rotten potato—and starts a conversation? Why on earth?

 

‘But is that guy really an alchemist?’

 

Theodore read the faint traces of magical power left on Renata’s hand and assessed the other man’s strength.

 

It did seem like refined power, but the flow felt unnatural.

 

‘It was an aura that seemed artificially created.’

 

As he boarded the carriage back to the palace together with Renata, Theodore mulled over what kind of power the man they had encountered earlier possessed.

 

At the same time, he was preoccupied with trying to understand why he himself had felt such overwhelming rage.

 

‘Why? Because it’s the same feeling as when your little sister starts hanging around some shady guy.’

 

Especially when this was the little sister he had quietly looked after for years—sending people to help her in secret, discreetly providing her with jobs, caring for her more than anyone knew—and now she was meeting some unidentified lowlife?

 

At this point, wasn’t it perfectly understandable to lose all reason and go berserk?

 

‘I need to assign more people. We have to track that bastard down no matter what.’

 

“…Your Highness, I only did it with the pure intention of helping that alchemist.”

 

Renata, seated across from him, tugged at his sleeve with genuine grievance, trying to get his attention.

 

“I understand, so you don’t need to make any more excuses. Just be more careful from now on.”

 

“Yes… I’m sorry.”

 

After bowing deeply in sincere apology, Renata immediately turned her gaze out the window the moment the matter was settled and maintained silence.

 

Theodore openly glared at her, acting as though he were waiting for her to say something more, but she steadfastly ignored him.

 

That was just how Renata always was.

 

Small talk during work hours was absolutely forbidden; even when it happened, it was only because she was cautiously bringing it up while trying to gauge whether she could take half a day off for something related to her sibling.

 

In other words, she never engaged in conversations with unclear purposes when it came to him.

 

Unless there was something urgent, she wouldn’t even meet his eyes. Physical contact was even more out of the question…

 

‘These idle thoughts keep popping up because of guilt, isn’t it?’

 

Here he was, having lewd imaginations in front of a loyal, innocent subordinate who followed him faithfully—he must be feeling sorry, that’s why.

 

So he should offer a proper apology and compensation.

 

Theodore knocked on the wall toward the coachman’s side, signaling the carriage to stop.

 

Renata, who had looked momentarily bewildered, glanced around as if trying to figure out what was happening.

 

“You said you had somewhere to go. Get off.”

 

“But this is the street lined with tailor shops… Ah, did you not like the riding habit we had fitted this time?”

 

Theodore ignored her entirely, stepping down first before extending his hand.

 

Whenever they rode together, he had always escorted her like this, yet every single time, Renata would draw a line, insisting there was no need for a commoner like her to receive such treatment.

 

This time too, she subtly tried to pull her body back, showing signs of refusal—so he gave a wry smile.