Chapter 9

T/N:

•Italics for thoughts (+apostrophes for the first one) and sound effects.

•Multiple "-" represents flashbacks and memories (unless dependant on time signatures like "* * *").

To Golden Knight Readers, I apologize for not sending sneak peeks and the chapter early for this and the last update. It's been a bit of a struggle to keep up with my assignments, but I'll make sure to have them done and sent for future updates.

Enjoy reading!||

. . .

'Wait, why would you say that . . .'

The golden-colored eyes faced straightwards, and the neat bite of his closed mouth appeared in the shape of a heart.

Frustrated, Kalia looked at Simon with a stern look to see if he was serious or not.

Simon said, twisting one of the corners of his lips after a brief pause, "It's a joke."

' . . . No, I don't think you were joking.'2

But on second thought, Simon wouldn't have started a real war just to see her face often. He wasn't that freely careless, and he didn't have any reason to do so.2

Kalia wiped out any of her lingering doubts.

Then she smiled, face-to-face with him, and replied, "Is that so?" as if it were something trivial.

He did not even wear his white shirt properly, like a prodigal master of any noble family should, but he stood leaning with his hands stuck in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders.

"But sometimes I feel like I can't do anything."

". . ."

"I feel like I'm going to hit something."1

He was obviously smiling, but his voice held with an unhidden irritation.

As Simon's words sounded, even though they hadn't seen each other for a long time, he still did not look happy.

No, but from then onwards, Simon hadn't been in a good state since that day.

Perhaps that day's happenings seemed intolerable.2

Kalia understood Simon's anger enough, though unfair, because he was not alone.

You've been subjected to unruly, shameless acts by a friend you had trusted. How miserable he must be.3

'As expected, I'm trash.'

Recalling the undeniable past, Kalia gloomily blamed herself before moving on to reprimanding.1

'No, you shouldn't keep dragging this. The baby in your belly could be delivered with a depressing angle of life. Wake up. This body and mind are not my own anymore.'1

With that in mind, Simon looked at Kalia complexly, who was clenching her fists, and asked, "Are you on your way back from seeing the Crown Prince?

Lightly, she nodded, hesitating before finally opening her mouth, "Well, Simon."

"Speak."6

In response to his cold reply, Kalia inhaled deeply and spoke quickly with an honest face.

"Once again, I am so sorry for that day. And I've never done anything like that before, so I didn't know I'd tire out you so much that day . . . . to the point of not being able to get out of bed. I, as you know, am just an idiot with high stamina."11

"No, wait."

Simon hurriedly raised his hand to stop her speech.

"Who couldn't get out of bed because they were tired?"2

He was bitter and angry with a face that was white enough to make you feel pale.

". . . Huh?"

"You, what the hell do you see me as . . . !"

But, contrary to his whitened face, Simon's ears were a flaming rose red.

'Your ears are red, aren't they?'

She couldn't believe Simon was so humiliated that his ears were turning red. It was so rare that she was perplexed by it.

'. . . . . . Why on earth?'

Kalia couldn't help but unconsciously tilt her head to the side.2

She looked at Simon closely, holding her chin as she did.

Simon seemed to be whispering to himself, sweeping and messing up his beautiful silvery hair that glistened in the moonlight.

Hair that fell down spread thinly over his neat, clean forehead.

His deep breaths were loud enough to shake his chest, and in a repressed voice, he said, "And just please stop being so apologetic, Kalia."

"Hm?"

"You don't have to feel sorry for me at all, so stop apologizing." he muttered harshly, teeth clenched.

While Kalia was speechless with embarrassment, Simon mumbled tensely as if she were still dumbfounded

"Ha! Me? I couldn't get out of bed because I was so tired from the night before."

". . . . . . . But you couldn't get up until the next day."

"Shut up, it's not that it didn't happen, it's that I enjoy that state . . ."5

Simon, who was rattling with anger, stopped talking, biting his lips firmly.

He exhaled a deep breath that he tried to previously and looked at Kalia again.

". . . Oh my God." His disheartened whisper was smeared with deep sorrow.

Soon he opened his mouth again, but a little more properly, ". . . No, it's not that I couldn't get up, it's that I didn't get up, Kalia. Don't ignore the clear difference."

'You couldn't get up, you didn't get up. What the hell's the difference?' ||*1||1

Kalia, whose lips were pouting, nodded her head as if she understood Simon's gaze, which lit up his eyes.

"Uh, yeah, okay. Anyway, so I'm sorry."

". . . I told you to stop apologizing, Kalia." Simon growled furiously once again.

No. Then don't get angry. Don't even apologize in anger.

That was about it, and it seemed Kalia was bothered by it. It was all annoying.

During this time, I only wanted to spend some peaceful time comforting my belly.

As if reading Kalia's expression, Simon called her name in a softer voice with a short sigh. "Kalia."

"Huh."

"You think I've earned the title of Top Archmage for nothing?"

'. . . . Why are you asking that?'

Kalia contemplated seriously over his sudden change of direction, but couldn't get the catch of it.

When Kalia signaled she didn't understand, Simon explained bitterly, whisking away his disheveled hair, "I, so easily, can't be subjected to the spell of a scroll."2

Kalia asked, with a puzzled look on her face, "But you were excited that day, too, you know?"

"No, that's—"

"You and I went insane that time, didn't we . . . didn't you? Simon, there's only that explanation for what happened between you and me. How else did you and I . . ."6 Kalia, who felt overly-excited by herself, said, after a while, "Anyway, Derek's scroll is a scroll so dangerous that it can even cause desire to manifest within friendships!"6

In her excitement, Simon had a dumbfounded expression, seemingly having lost words to say.

Then, his face crumpled up because of what she said.1

He fired lightning in the middle of the Imperial Palace garden with a short spell, as if he couldn't stand something rising within him.2

There was another huge flash of lightning behind him.

Wild, rumbling lightning! Just wild!

'. . . and again, that bastard has blown up another Imperial Palace garden.'

It was fortunate that there was even a type of magic that could restore things.

Looking at Kalia, who had a bewildered look on her face, Simon spoke quickly to her.

"Oh, what am I going to say to you in this state, you blockhead. I'll explain it calmly to you, so don't go somewhere for the time being. I have to go fix the defensive magic for two weeks. I'll explain it carefully after. Wait, okay?"1

"Two weeks? Um . . ."

I was in trouble.

Kalia couldn't hide her complicated expression, but she nodded once, looking at his eagle-shaped pupils.

Only then did Simon turn back, seemingly satisfied.

It was on impulse when Kalia opened her mouth as she stood and watched his leaving back.

"Simon."

When she called after him, Kalia hesitated for a moment, glancing at him as he looked back.

But she couldn't take it back because she had already called him.

With caution, she opened her mouth again.

"You . . . still don't like children?""

"What do you mean all of a sudden?"

Simon stared at Kalia because of the abrupt question.

While he searched for hidden intentions, Kalia added, with an awkward laugh, "You're talking about a marriage, too. When you get married, you'll think about having a child . . . But you still might hate them."

From some point onward, Simon hated children very much.

Since Kalia was talking about children, he couldn't avoid being alarmed.

Regardless of whether it was a newborn baby or a slightly older child, if there were kids nearby, he'd take Kalia away.5

It was how Simon would react, but would it not be a little different if it was his?

Kalia threw such an awkward question to squeeze out hope that even she didn't have.1

Simon looked at her with a strange expression, one that could not be described with one word, and soon, he bit his lip as if he was in a state of thought.

Soon, he lifted his lips to speak.

"Yes, still. And I think that will remain the same in the future."20

At his resolute words, Kalia stared at Simon with a stiffened face without even realizing it.

For some reason, he again emphasized with a face full of conviction, "I wanted to get married recently, but it's not like I want to have a child. So I don't need a child."9

'As expected.'

Simon, who faintly glanced at Kalia, sighed, and then said brusquely, "What's the point of worrying over this?"

'Well, it's because I have your baby in my stomach, you son of a bitch . . .'7

"Anyway, I'm leaving."

Kalia once again made a firm pledge as she watched the back of Simon's head.

After that, I shouldn't say a thing about children to Simon.2

* * *

" . . . . . Hoo."

Simon, who had been walking for a considerable amount of time, stopped right before entering the lobby.

Then he turned half-way and looked at the back of Kalia, who was walking in the distance casually.

The lemon hair that was tied up without a gap shook, and it shimmered under the moonlight.

The moonlight enveloped her amongst the darkness.

It was brilliant as if the hidden sun's light had repelled the night's darkness and shone only for her.

I had seen her from behind so many times. Still, it was blinding every time I saw it.

A woman so sincere that she did not know how to stand firmly on the ground alone, now stood upright, holding her chin and staring only forward.1

Unlike that soft hair, her hands were covered with hard calluses.

There were scars pierced by arrows on the shoulders that fell at a right angle, a long sword resting on the solid belly with abs, and marks on the right arm from being torn and attached again. ||*2||1

Simon poured his mana into it for three days and nights and managed to attach it, but the traces of it being torn off did not completely disappear.

There were wounds and scars that would likely last a lifetime.

They were her honor, a mark of her efforts, a testament to her present existence.

And so, unlike other aristocratic individuals, Kalia was not ashamed of her hand, which was as rugged as the hand of a monster.

Foolish aristocrats were sarcastic and pointed at her as, 'The Iron Woman, Kalia,' as they hid in the shadows of high society, but those words couldn't even reach the ears of the noble prosecutor.

In a way, it was fortunate that Kalia was tactless, that she could not keep up with the noble ladies' conversation skills, or that she was not very interested in the chatter of others.

Thanks to that, it kept her heart and feelings protected, unlike her scarred body.

". . . You're a woman out of harm's way thanks to your denseness."1

That was what he liked about her.

It was so funny that Simon laughed without his knowledge.1

A small, square box rolled into the palm of his hand after he took it out of his pocket.1

Simon, who was fiddling with it with his fingers, recalled Kalia's words a little while ago.

—————————————————————————

"You're talking about a marriage, too. When you get married, you'll think about having a child . . . But you still might hate them."

—————————————————————————

I'm sure she really had something to say that even the dense Kalia would talk like that.