Chapter 42

042.

My head is pounding.

“Hahaha!! And there you went, drinking it all! Well, someone from outside like you wouldn’t understand its meaning!”

Though it feels tempting to blame Sir Cradders for his incessant talking all day, Kalen vividly remembers what happened the previous day.

Kalen covered his face with his arm, trying to ease the throbbing headache as he lay down.

The Hiart family mansion has an abundance of unused spare rooms.

Due to excessive drinking, there were more than enough rooms to accommodate the fallen revelers.

Kalen, with his arm over his face, was lying in just such a room.

However, Cradders wasn’t with him originally.

All that changed when he abruptly appeared, kicked the door open, and began ranting.

For all his usually stoic demeanor, Cradders loves to chatter.

He couldn’t possibly overlook discussing the shocking events of the previous day.

“What was that? Even though I haven’t lived very long, it was a sight of unparalleled beauty that I’d never witnessed before in my life. Miss Serasie seems to have changed somewhat ever since that particular moment — was it because of you?”

The huge bonfire from the traditional festival has the power to melt even the coldest hearts.

Though northerners cherish their traditions, there is a special reason why they hold this particular moment in such high regard.

But it was different this time.

Whatever Serasie revealed was enigmatic, almost magical.

The crimson glow that softly tinted the scene was indescribable in words.

Everyone was lost, entranced, just watching.

It felt warmer than any bonfire could ever be.

Against this backdrop, something happened, something that left everyone astonished.

It’s not hard to understand why they were shocked.

“What did drinking the whole bottle mean…? What did you say?”

Kalen’s already aching head worsened as the words he had heard only served to confuse him further.

What Cradders began chattering about upon entering was far from easy to process.

“A bottle of traditional homemade liquor offered by a northern woman is a proposal of marriage. And drinking it all immediately…”

Cradders wore a mischievous grin while delivering his subtle advice in a sly tone,

“…is an acceptance that’s just bordering on being a little too provocative. Hmm.”

“…”

“You shouldn’t try to figure everything out, Kalen. There’s such a thing as the world of adults.”

—Don’t accept any liquor bottles~

Kalen recalled this warning Sir Cradders gave when he first arrived in the north.

Why did that thought come to mind now?

He felt a little resentful.

If Cradders was going to warn him, why didn’t he explain properly from the start?

Just saying “be careful” doesn’t help at all. Does it?

Ignoring Cradders’ incessant chatter by his side,

Kalen recalled the smile he had seen from Serasie the day before.

His head still ached, his chest still felt heavy, but the memory was crystal clear.

He remembered every word Serasie spoke, every action, every smile.

That was the problem.

After learning about the meaning behind those actions from Cradders, ignoring them entirely was no longer simple.

Kalen was an outsider, unaware of the implications of receiving and drinking in one go a bottle of liquor crafted by a northern woman.

However, that doesn’t erase the fact that Serasie had offered him the drink.

She must have understood the meaning of giving a man a bottle of liquor as a marriage proposal.

That meant she offered it to him willingly.

Kalen removed his hand from his face and got up, ignoring Sir Cradders.

After breaking through the third level of magic mastery.

Following Eliana, Serasie had also awakened a profound understanding with him at the center…

…including the meaning behind that bottle of liquor.

With so many concerns swirling, his pounding head made it impossible for him to think clearly.

Thus, Kalen— who had yet to undergo his coming-of-age ceremony — firmly decided:

He would never drink again.

With that resolve, he wobbled as he walked through the maze-like corridors of the mansion.

Most ordinary people would pass out long before consuming half the amount Kalen had ingested, though he remained blissfully unaware of that fact.

*

“You’re beautiful, sister.”

Slept poorly.

That carelessly tossed phrase kept reverberating in his mind.

A voice so soft yet so weighty.

Far from his usual taciturn demeanor.

He personally preferred her without glasses, though they suited her all the same.

To see her smile, a smile she had never shown before.

And to hear her laugh while saying such things.

Who wouldn’t be captivated by that?

Considering she had prepared herself to offer the traditional liquor, to then be treated to such antics…

It left her entire body with vivid memories of their forced closeness.

Her heart raced like a malfunctioning machine.

Her face flushed without reason.

The conflicting thoughts of being embarrassed to see Kalen juxtaposed with the desire to see him anyway kept her from leaving her room despite a sleepless night.

What exactly was “beautiful”?

Though it came from someone like Torn who referred to her as trash, he had mentioned her face was worth looking at.

Perhaps that was the basis for the compliment, her face.

Or maybe it could be her personality.

Someone like her, with such an unconventional character, that still accepted her silently without a word. Moreover, someone who seemed to understand every aspect of her inner world.

Unless it referred to something else entirely…

“Eyes…”

She had made that comment before.

The first thing the young aristocrats noticed was her body.

Kalen disagreed, suggesting they would first notice her eyes.

And indeed, the moment they first met, Kalen had looked directly into her eyes.

Kalen— who had a pleasant face and an agreeable personality.

It was certainly the eyes.

The words had undoubtedly referred to her eyes.

Serasie covered her flaming cheeks once more.

She still needed quite a bit of preparation before stepping out of her room.

As she thought about it, she glanced cautiously towards the door.

Click.

The door opened at exactly that moment.

“Miss.”

“K, Kalen?!”

Unable to step out of her room, Kalen had come to her.

Serasie struggled to hide her discomposure.

Truly, it wasn’t fair how fate loved to play cruel tricks.

Right at the moment she looked the worst, he suddenly appeared.

The rhythm of her heart, which she had managed to steady, faltered again.

Her cheeks had been burning from the start.

The memory of Kalen’s bare face from the day before overlapped with the present, leaving her unable to respond as she stared at the increasingly close expression of the young man.

Thump, thump, thump.

Could he hear her racing heart?

Even as she retreated backward towards the edge of her bed, Kalen continued to approach without hesitation.

“Sniff…”

Shivering without aim, Ruby.

When Kalen finally reached the side of the bed, he looked down at Serasie.

Like a predator about to feast on its prey.

Serasie, clutching her chest with trembling hands, shivered.

It wasn’t fear.

Far removed from that emotion.

It was more like a tingling sensation.

“I’ve heard, Miss.”

“…”

“About the significance behind a northern woman giving away liquor she has personally made.”

“Ah…”

Clutching the fragile thread of her sanity was Kalen’s one statement.

Initially, everything was premised on Kalen’s ignorance. Knowing the act was equivalent to a marriage proposal, she assumed Kalen would naturally decline.

But now, Kalen claimed he knew.

He had unraveled the self-imposed bonds she selfishly sought to tighten.

“…”

Her lips quivered, frozen in place.

It was a situation she had never imagined.

Filling those bonds arbitrarily had been her final attempt to brainwash herself.

Now Kalen alone in her world.

After no longer trusting anyone else but Kalen, if he were to leave…

This was the marriage she had sought— one that only she knew of, something Kalen had dreamed nothing of.

Kalen knew everything.

Time moved slowly, almost forbidding his next words.

Ruby’s trembling gaze was fixed on Kalen’s mouth, denying the words about to be spoken.

Predictable though they seemed, she lacked the courage to hear them.

But time moves forward, no matter how slowly.

Serasie tightly shut her eyes.

At the same moment, she gripped Kalen’s arm tightly.

A reflexive action reflecting her fear of being abandoned once more.

And then Kalen, slightly flustered, spoke,

“Could you make that liquor again?”

It was slightly different from what she expected.

*

With her eyes tightly shut and Kalen’s arm firmly gripped, Serasie gradually opened her eyes.

“What did you say…?”

“Could you make that liquor again?”

Surely she had heard correctly, yet fearing her own heart might have distorted the words, she asked again.

Instead of the expected apologetic words of regret over the previous day’s actions, none of the negative emotions clouding her mind materialized.

Kalen’s face remained emotionlessly calm.

It was as if he continued to ask normally.

“Why…?”

Hence, what came out were questions.

An appropriate answer to Kalen’s inquiry and a query into Kalen’s unexpected behavior.

“Yesterday, I wasn’t in my right mind.”

Nails digging in painfully, yet Kalen, ignoring the hold on his arm, continued,

“Isn’t it a shame to waste something you can make only once in your life? There should be a better time for it.”

Serasie thought he had been rash due to difficulties he had faced.

Presenting her with the wine was a gesture born out of gratitude that had grown too large, causing momentary confusion.

Cradders had also mentioned northern women didn’t take men from other places as marriage partners.

Serasie’s liquor, misinterpreted by many assumptions, wasn’t destined to disappear into the void.

Kalen was thinking about preserving it while expressing this thought.

Yet, hearing this, Serasie’s eyes brimmed with tears.

They were tears of gratitude.

She was grateful that he considered her selfish feelings and gave her the chance to brew a better batch of wine to offer again.

By blaming himself and implying it was a wrong moment, he was giving her time to finish her pending tasks.

This statement sounded far more beautiful than her self-imposed last line of selfish constraints.

It sounded as if he was waiting until she made the wine again.

It sounded like a promise that, even if her heart wandered, his wouldn’t stray from hers.

“…”

Serasie wiped her tears and smiled brightly.

“I’ll make it again.”

Kalen exhaled a faint sigh, signaling it was settled, and turned away.

“I apologize for this morning.”

“Kalen.”

What halted Kalen as he was about to step out was Serasie’s question.

“What do you mean by beautiful…? What’s beautiful?”

Kalen too could only take a deep breath in response to that.

A crazy person saying to an unmarried woman, “Your body is beautiful.”

It was fortunate that, in his disoriented state, he had omitted much of what he had intended to say.

His head quickly sorted through things to find the most plausible answer.

Even in extreme situations, Kalen remained calm, allowing him to provide an adequate response.

“…Your eyes.”

And with that, he quickly exited the room.

Though conjured hastily, it was a wise response.

*

“Hey, Kal. That liquor, was it tasty?”

“Are you referring to the liquor Miss gave me?”

“Yeah, that one.”

The room Kalen had hastily fled to contained Cradders, who had somehow remained unmoved, wondering why Kalen hadn’t left.

Finding comfort in discussing his current turmoil, Kalen readily engaged in conversation.

When the topic returned to the flavor of the liquor Serasie had given,

Because it was made from pure water and sweet frozen grapes, northern liquor consistently ranked among the best.

And so, naturally, the flavor was sweet.

“It’s sweeter than other kinds.”

“Is that so? Hahaha!”

Cradders’ response was perplexing.

Kalen could only understand his hearty laugh after hearing Cradders’ subsequent words.

“Do you know how northern women make their own liquor?”

“No.”

“Ah, that’s expected. Although you’re young, I’ll tell you just this once. This liquor…”

Young, young.

The suspenseful pauses made Kalen tense up.

“That liquor is made from the grape juice the woman herself chews and ferments with her saliva.”

At last, Kalen understood why Cradders had been amused by his earlier comment about the sweetness.

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