I stared at Sir Edgar with wide eyes after hearing his words, and managed to respond.
“I beg your pardon…?”
Sir Edgar, who had just said something rather staggering, continued with perfect composure.
“Two years ago, I truly did not want to go on living. But then I met Sir Rowell, and Sir Rowell gave color to my life. If I hadn’t wandered near that art classroom that day, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
“But that’s exactly why you should keep living…”
I said it with some distress, but Sir Edgar smiled and replied — like someone who didn’t quite grasp the gravity of this magic.
“I want to repay Sir Rowell, no matter what it takes. And besides — the soul can continue to exist, can’t it? If that’s the case, then that’s enough for me. It’s the kind of experience I’d like to have at least once in my life.”
“No, please don’t. There’s no taking this back once it’s done.”
It seemed Sir Edgar was speaking without thinking it through, driven purely by his desire to help me. I tried to stop him, but he kept on.
“I truly mean it. It’s nothing to boast about, but I have very few people I’m close to, my parents passed away long ago, and I have no family. I’ve also been out of contact with my relatives for a long time. So if Sir Rowell were to come and live in my body, nothing uncomfortable should arise from it. I’ve saved up some money — not a great deal, but it’s there. Please spend it however you like.”
“Sir Edgar…”
“My mind is made up. If Sir Rowell needs time to think, I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
I was caught somewhere between bewilderment and gratitude — I couldn’t quite understand why he would extend such generosity toward me. All I had done was teach him a little art.
And the most disconcerting part of all was that, in the midst of a situation so wretched I hadn’t known which way to turn, his words had landed on me like something sweet.
The conditions were beyond anything I could have asked for. Sir Edgar was a handsome man with a pleasant face — tall, healthy-looking, with both money and a title to his name.
But however kindly I tried to frame it, this was still the act of taking a life. The thought of entertaining such an idea toward someone who was my friend made me feel deeply guilty.
My head was crowded with too many thoughts, and I hesitated before speaking.
“I don’t think this is something that can be decided in an instant like this… Let’s both think it over a little more, and speak again in a few days.”
“Understood. But my thoughts won’t change. Sir Rowell need only consider your own position.”
I felt both confusion and gratitude toward Sir Edgar for saying that, and the conversation came to a close there.
And I could feel my heart beginning to tilt toward one side.
The moment I returned home after my conversation with Sir Edgar, I was met with a face I had no wish to see.
Bert hyung was leaving the manor. I nearly let a scowl show when I saw him — but I caught myself, and smoothed my expression into a smile.
It seemed best not to let on that I had overheard the conversation between him and my father. As far as they knew, I didn’t know the full picture of what they were plotting.
I thought about how things had come to be like this between Bert hyung and me — and felt both a deep sadness and a quiet anger.
I smiled at hyung as though I hadn’t been let down by him at all, and greeted him.
“What brings you here, hyung?”
“I had something to discuss with your father.”
“I see.”
Looking at hyung’s unchanging face, I lowered my eyes and nodded. Just then, a hand came toward me without warning, and I flinched and looked up.
Bert hyung had reached toward my neck and swept his thumb across the skin there. A smear of green paint came away on his thumb, and I realized I had been walking around with paint on my neck.
He thought nothing of it — simply drew out his handkerchief and wiped his finger clean, and said,
“Be careful.”
I knew the gesture meant nothing. Even so, something stirred inside me.
Once, I would have been overjoyed at the idea that Bert hyung was looking out for me, and I would have turned this moment over in my mind until I wore it thin.
But not anymore. Hyung hadn’t been looking out for me. He hadn’t been thinking of me.
This was just how Bert hyung was.
Just that.
Nothing more than that.
I kept my feelings off my face and answered with a smile.
“The paint?”
“Mind yourself, I said.”
“Why?”
Bert hyung looked at me for a moment after that follow-up question. I would normally have answered him obediently, so my not doing so seemed to puzzle him. But his interest extended only that far.
“You’re full of questions today. Do as you like.”
With that, Bert hyung moved on to whatever came next on his mind, and walked away. I watched him pass by my side, then pressed my lips together and turned to go inside.
I spent my days hardening my heart until it was as cold as ice, and before I knew it, a week had passed since that conversation with Sir Edgar.
I held my art class that day, and sat across from Sir Edgar once more.
After spending every waking hour for days buried in that one thought, I asked him in earnest,
“Has your mind changed? What you said then — did you truly mean it?”
“Not in the least. It’s something I genuinely want to do.”
Sir Edgar smiled as he spoke, his gaze steady and unwavering as it met mine. I clenched my fist, feeling as though I were committing some great wrong, and asked again.
“Then… may I ask this of you?”
“Of course, Sir Rowell.”
I was so grateful to him for saying that. I closed my eyes, bowed my head, and let my feelings come through.
“Thank you, truly…”
“Not at all — I owe Sir Rowell far more than this. So then, when shall we do it?”
“Let’s not rush. Either of us could have a change of heart. And you’ll have things to wrap up on your end as well. There are still three months until the ceremony — let’s take our time and plan it out together between now and then.”
“Alright, that sounds good.”
Sir Edgar held out his hand first, and I took it and shook it. And so our secret plan with Sir Edgar began.
If I was going to live a new life, word of this could not reach a single soul. After each art class ended, Sir Edgar and I would talk through our plans for what lay ahead — with small traces of blood on each of our lips.
“Sir Rowell, what if you use the magic right there in the venue on the day of the wedding?”
He floated that suggestion for the plan of when to use the magic.
I hesitated and said,
“That boldly…”
“What’s stopping you? You can do anything.”
He seemed, somehow, even more excited about it than I was. I told him I would think about it and deferred the decision.
And so the time I spent with Sir Edgar grew longer, and the conversations we shared multiplied with each passing day. After each art class ended, the time I spent talking with him became something I looked forward to — something that made me genuinely happy.
That day too, we had been talking away cheerfully and were walking back together toward my home. We usually parted ways at the square, but there was still more to say and neither of us was quite ready to separate. To be more precise, he was walking me back.
“We really did talk about everything today. You probably know me better than my own mother does by now, Sir Edgar.”
“The same goes for me. My parents don’t know the person I became after seventeen — Sir Rowell knows me better.”
“That’s true for me as well, actually. My mother doesn’t know who I’ve been since fifteen either.”
We were walking along, exchanging that sort of bold joke that would have been impossible with anyone else — when, just before reaching the front gate, I spotted Bert hyung on the other side and stopped dead in my tracks.
Hyung was standing in front of the gate, watching me.
And then his gaze shifted to Sir Edgar, and his eyes narrowed.
I startled as though caught in the act of something, and my face went stiff. I tried not to be too slow in lifting the corners of my lips into a smile.
“Hyung.”
I called out to him with a smile, the way Rowell who was always devoted to Bert hyung would — and hyung’s gaze, which had been resting on Sir Edgar, turned back to me. He glanced briefly toward Sir Edgar at my side and asked,
“Who is this?”
“He’s Sir Edgar — one of my art class students.”
Sir Edgar, unruffled, smiled and faced Bert hyung directly. He greeted him with easy composure.
“Good evening, Lord Bertram. I’m glad to meet someone so well-regarded in person.”
Bert hyung looked at Sir Edgar but said nothing — only raised an eyebrow slightly. That was how hyung always was with people he had no interest in.
I gave Sir Edgar an awkward look on hyung’s behalf, and Sir Edgar showed nothing on his face and simply bid me farewell.
“Then I’ll be on my way, Sir Rowell.”
“Yes, take care.”
Sir Edgar bowed his head to me, then gave Bert hyung a brief nod as well before turning and walking away. Before long, it was only hyung and me left on the path.
Hyung looked at me and said,
“You’re coming home rather late.”
“The sun is still up.”
“Barely.”
That was true. The surroundings had already grown dim. Bert hyung followed up with another question.
“Are you planning to keep running the art class?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hurt yourself?”
Bert hyung said it while looking at my lips. I flinched and brought my hand up to cover my mouth.
I had forgotten to wipe away the blood. I kept the surprise off my face and answered as calmly as I could manage.
“Oh — my lips must have cracked from dryness.”
Bert hyung looked at me for a moment after that, then stepped forward and passed by my side.
