MBSGBC 03

Chapter 03

Lion Voltain was my first love.

The problem was, he was the first love of every single female trainee at the Magic Tower at the time.

Back then, Lion Voltain was bewitchingly beautiful.

His jet-black hair, so dark it almost looked blue, flowed in soft waves, and beneath his long, dark lashes that cast shadows down to his cheekbones, his jewel-like blue eyes seemed to shimmer with reflections of water.

Watching the boy, whose skin was as white as marble, walk soundlessly on his long legs made it feel almost wasteful that he’d entered the Magic Tower.

That face alone was magical enough.

Why did he even need to learn magic?

Unfortunately, though.

A handsome face did not guarantee a good personality.

The dazzlingly beautiful Lion Voltain was, at his core, a thoroughly irritating person.

I should have realized it from the very fact that someone so privileged would bother becoming a mage.

Being a mage is, fundamentally, a dirty, grueling, headache-inducing profession. There were hardly any proper noble heirs who would choose to become mages.

In other words, a man who was the heir to a dukedom and still insisted on learning magic could not possibly be sane.

Our first encounter went something like this:

—

*Shorty.*

*Pardon?*

*You’re so small I didn’t even notice you were blocking the way. Get lost.*

—

Looking at this rare beauty—who smiled sweetly while spewing insults—my thought was:

‘Is he insane?’

—

* * *

—

All the way to the reception room, my mother sang the duke’s praises so effusively that I wondered if she was the same person who’d pushed Pascal on me.

“Oh, Irina!”

Schule, spotting me from beyond the door, raised his hand without a shred of dignity.

It was so humiliating that I was surprised I still had such feelings left in me.

“Hic—you’re finally here. Hehe, she’s a foolish little sister, but she’s very kind. I assure you, she was raised without want…”

His bloodshot eyes gleamed with the joy of finding another buyer to sell me off to.

Shameless bastard.

Whether he knew how I felt or not.

The dark-haired man slowly rose from his seat.

It seemed he’d filled out more in the years I hadn’t seen him. His broad shoulders rose high above.

A black coat woven with silver thread, a dark gray shirt, and a cloak embroidered with subtle blue vine patterns slowly etched themselves into my eyes as he stood.

“…”

I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice caught in my throat.

The Duke Voltain I saw after so long wore an expression I’d never seen before.

His complexion was pale, and his eyes darted restlessly, as if anxious.

Like someone who’d just awoken from a terrible nightmare.

His magical beauty, tinged with illness, gave off an inexplicably desolate and solemn, decadent air.

“Irina.”

But the moment our eyes met—

Lion Voltain smiled, like a flower bud that had been holding its breath all winter finally blooming.

My name, spoken in that low voice.

It was an ordinary name, but it felt completely different from when anyone else said it. A tremor that started at my toes traveled up my spine, brushed the back of my neck, and then faded.

His beauty now felt almost threatening. The suffocating pressure, like something formless gripping my throat, made me fight the urge to run.

He rose and slowly walked around the sofa toward me. His downward gaze was so heavy I could barely breathe.

The silence stretched on.

When I said nothing, he tilted his head slightly, looked at my mother and Schule, and spoke.

“Baron Otreha. Lady Otreha.”

“Yes?”

A single cool word dropped.

“Leave.”

“Hic—of course!”

“Certainly!”

The two answered without a second thought and headed for the door. My mother even mouthed, ‘Do your best!’

My best at what?

And then—thud.

The door closed, and we were alone.

I walked over and sat where Schule had been. On the low table, two half-empty glasses and a bottle of liquor were scattered about. Serving alcohol instead of tea in broad daylight—how pathetic.

But what could I do?

This was my reality.

The one saving grace was that Lion Voltain was also a man far removed from propriety and etiquette. As soon as Schule and my mother left, he settled back onto the long sofa he’d been sitting on, half-reclining. The sight of the man’s long legs casually stretched over the worn arm of our shabby sofa was almost surreal.

The Duke Voltain, in that languid posture, rested his chin on one arm and studied me.

“What are you looking at?”

“Just. Seeing if it’s really you.”

Had Lion Voltain always carried this kind of aura?

Not as far as I remembered.

He was a lighthearted, arrogant boy without rhyme or reason, but with his own endearing qualities. Yet now.

Why did I feel like prey facing a beast?

He let out a small snort and spoke in a casual tone.

“Why didn’t you ever send a letter?”

“Why would I?”

“What do you mean, why? I thought we were dating.”

“We were, at one point.”

There were various circumstances, and we’d dated for barely a year.

It wasn’t some heavy, passionate love affair. To put it bluntly, I was just the shield Lion Voltain set up once he got tired of the freshmen’s confessions.

The end was anticlimactic.

Because I failed the Magic Tower’s final selection.

Lion Voltain stayed at the Tower, and I returned home.

Of course, I didn’t send any letters.

That would’ve made me seem pathetic.

Just as it had been when we were dating, the breakup was unspoken. We vanished completely from each other’s lives.

Until today, when he suddenly appeared at my house.

“Are you going to break off the engagement with Pascal Oker?”

His low voice pressed down on the crown of my head. Feeling like I might crumble, I quickly opened my mouth.

“You’re remarkably well-informed.”

“I just guessed, since it seemed likely.”

“Oh, I see…”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen originally.”

Just like his visit to the Otreha mansion.

Lion seemed unwilling to drag out this ambiguous situation—where events that hadn’t happened in the past were now occurring. His pale blue eyes, looking down at me, were relentless, as if trying to extract the truth from deep within my irises.

“…So it was you who turned back time, after all?”

“You don’t seem surprised at all.”

“Well, I thought you were the only one who could use such absurd magic.”

“I see.”

“How did you succeed with a magic that existed only in theory? And besides… if you’re the one who cast the spell, why did *I* come back?”

Lion stared intently, as if gauging whether I was hiding something. After tilting his head for a moment, he finally spoke.

“Don’t you remember? You seem far too composed.”

“You think I look composed right now?”

“I expected you to be crying.”

“Pardon?”

“Leah Vestine’s bastard—that ungrateful brat—killed you.”

“Pardon?”

It was like a bolt from the blue.

As I stared with my mouth agape, he raised an eyebrow.

“You raised him like your own son until he turned twenty. I guess you’ve forgotten all about it.”

Gasp—the sound escaped me involuntarily.

Until the ten-year-old turned twenty?

That meant ten years?

There was a future I didn’t know about…?