episode_0052

“Everyone seems to have plenty of free time. Is it really okay to stay holed up here like this? It’s already been over a month.”

The remark came from a woman who had no idea just how high her own worth was. A month? There would be no shortage of people willing to devote decades if it meant gaining her allegiance.

But as she was now—with her past completely erased—she had no way of knowing that.

A plate of steaming hot food was placed on the table. Though her tone was deliberately aloof, the look in Arina’s eyes betrayed the exact opposite of her outward demeanor.

Despite everything, the time they had spent together had clearly left its mark. It seemed she had grown fond of Ian as well.

In the battle to win Arina’s heart over the past month, Ian had undoubtedly emerged victorious.

Yet, judging by how the porter chewed his jerky with a disgruntled expression but made no move to intervene, he seemed content with merely having grown closer to Arina. Perhaps both sides had achieved their respective goals.

After a long while, Ian sliced a piece of meat from the platter and took a bite.

“Leaving the meat aside, today’s meal is quite extravagant, isn’t it?”

And it wasn’t just his portion. The dishes served to the villagers filling the dining area were far more abundant than usual.

Surrounded by mountains, Natizan was hardly a land of plenty. While the homemakers were undoubtedly skilled cooks, the limited ingredients meant meals were often repetitive or lacking in nutrients.

“I’m not sure either since it’s my first time, but I think they’re clearing out surplus grain ahead of the harvest season. There’s supposed to be a festival soon too, I hear?”

“A festival?”

Come to think of it, was it already harvest time? The weather had grown noticeably cooler, enough to feel a chill outside without proper clothing.

Autumn was the season to reap the rewards of a year’s labor. It was also a time to empty granaries before stored crops spoiled.

“Yes! Festivals are important, after all. Don’t you think having something fun occasionally keeps you motivated for the next year?”

Balancing a tray, Arina pressed a finger to her cheek and stole a glance at Ian.

“Did you know? In a small village like this, festivals are also matchmaking events—pairing up unattached men and women.”

“Hmm, sounds plausible. In a village this size, every child is precious.”

Ian’s indifferent response, as if it had nothing to do with him, made Arina puff her cheeks in frustration. She turned her head sharply and narrowed her eyes.

“I hear couples celebrate the festival together. Maybe it’s about time I thought about doing the same? Not that it’s an issue for me—I’ve got plenty of admirers to choose from, after all. I could just wait and pick whoever I like?”

Though she twisted her words to sound nonchalant, her true feelings were painfully obvious, making it hard not to chuckle.

When Ian didn’t respond, Arina fidgeted nervously, her cheeks flushing pink. Her gaze dropped, and she fiddled with the hem of her skirt.

“S-so, Ian, what are your plans for the festival? Will you be with… Milene?”

“Why bring up Milene all of a sudden?”

“You two are always together. Like the Hero and the porter. It feels like I can’t intrude.”

Though her jealousy was thinly veiled, her cautious demeanor was a stark contrast to Milene’s.

Still, it seemed Ian’s efforts to win Arina’s heart hadn’t been in vain. In a village like this, devoid of luxuries, fostering romance was no easy feat.

He thought he’d made his affection clear, but Arina still seemed uncertain. Acting oblivious now would only backfire.

“From the way you’re talking, I gather you haven’t found a partner for the festival yet?”

“Well… Obviously? Someone here practically promised to take responsibility for me for life. Why would I look elsewhere?”

“Did I really?”

“You did! That’s why I waited faithfully, only for you to cozy up with another woman!”

Now openly sulking, Arina voiced her frustration directly. But Ian couldn’t recall ever making such grand promises. He’d barely managed to reconcile with Milene, enduring her icy glares daily while spending most of his time with Arina.

Yet even his brief evening chats with Milene had become fuel for jealousy. The absurdity of them both being jealous wasn’t lost on him.

“Don’t misunderstand. Milene and I aren’t like that. More importantly, Arina—that promise I made, is it still valid?”

“Huh?”

That promise… already a month old. Digging through fragmented memories, Arina recalled the words they’d exchanged when they first met.

“Ah, that promise. Why bring it up now? You’re not thinking of anything weird, are you?”

Her eyes narrowed warily as she hugged herself defensively—though her reluctance didn’t seem genuine.

For a moment, Ian was tempted to test just how far that promise went, but he resisted, smiling as he took her hand with the effortless grace of nobility.

“I just want your permission to be your partner at the festival.”

“Partner? That’s your wish?”

Arina blinked in surprise. Ian nodded.

“Is there a problem?”

“N-no… Not at all. But for that, you didn’t need to use your wish—”

“Oh? So I could ask for something else instead?”

He whispered the last words into her ear, close enough for only her to hear. His sultry tone sent a shiver down her spine. Flustered, she covered her ears, her face burning red.

“N-no! A promise is a promise! Your wish is to be my festival partner, right? That settles it! That’s what we’ll do!”

“Wow! Those skewers look amazing too!”

Arina tugged at Ian’s sleeve, pulling him toward a charcoal grill stall. Uncharacteristically bold, she even linked arms with him, completely swept up in the festive mood—so much so that she barely seemed aware of her own actions.

Thanks to this, countless young men in the village were forced to bury their first crushes, but it was for the best. Better to give up early on someone so far out of their league.

Ian, who wasn’t in a position to mock them, understood this all too well. If Arina ever regained her memories, moments like this would vanish.

“Two skewers, please!”

Beaming, Arina held up two fingers. Ian casually added to the order.

“And two glasses of beer.”

“Ian, you drink?”

“Don’t you like it?”

“It’s not about liking or disliking—I’ve never had it before.”

“You’ll love it. I promise.”

Her tastes couldn’t have changed that much. Back in their adventuring days, she’d rarely gone a night without alcohol.

“If you say so, I’ll trust you.”

Carrying skewers and beer, the two wandered through the village.

True to Ian’s word, Arina gulped down the beer, her face soon flushed red. Eventually, they ventured beyond the village, climbing a hill until they reached the lakeside.

“Shall we rest for a bit?”

“Yes. My legs are starting to ache.”

A conveniently sized rock—perfect for two—offered a clear view of the starlit sky reflected on the lake. Someone in the village had likely designed it as a lover’s spot.

Buoyed by the pleasant buzz, Arina leaned her head against Ian’s shoulder.

“Ian.”

Her flushed face tilted up to look at him.

“Hm? Yeah.”

Both moderately tipsy and completely alone—wasn’t this atmosphere a bit dangerous? The tension felt combustible. Ian stiffened.

“You like me, right?”

“…Yeah.”

“Why? Is it my looks? It can’t just be that. Milene is gorgeous too. Maybe something happened between us—before I lost my memories.”

He couldn’t answer. Why did he like Arina? Initially, it was her aura—strong, majestic, beautiful. The archetypal sorceress.

But now, it was far more than attraction.

That day she revealed her past to him.

The cold, elegant woman he’d assumed was simply kind-hearted had slowly opened up, sharing her history.

The vulnerability in her expression, the wistful look in her eyes, yet the unbroken spirit beneath—all of it exposed the humanity hidden beneath the title of Archmage. And it had shaken Ian’s heart violently, bringing him to this very moment.

But he couldn’t share this with the current Arina. It wouldn’t be fair—like saying he loved someone else, not her.

“I don’t mind. The me before losing my memories is still me.”

“Still…”

“Aren’t you curious why I chose you over the village men or the porter? I was.”

Smiling brightly, Arina paused thoughtfully before continuing.

“It was from the moment we met. Even seeing you wield your sword violently, I felt safe around you. Like you’d protect me. Being with you put me at ease. Maybe… I liked you even before losing my memories?”

“Impossible.”

A sad denial, even to himself. The idea that the old Arina had room in her heart for love seemed absurd.

“But I’m sure you were someone precious—someone I could trust. That’s why… I ended up liking you now. Maybe it was destined from the start.”

Strangely, the more she confessed, the heavier his heart grew.

The woman before him wasn’t bound by revenge or duty. She was just like any other—chasing love and a peaceful life.

In other words, this was just Arina.

Not a genius, just an ordinary woman born without burdens of the past. One who had the simple right to pursue happiness—and might’ve ended up with him, given the chance.

A possibility denied to her as Riel Frost, shackled by her past, now blinked innocently before him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Arina tilted her head, worried she’d said something wrong. Even that expression was endearing.

How could someone so deserving of love be denied it?

“It’s nothing.”

“Eep! Ian, what’s gotten into you?!”

Suddenly pulled into a tight embrace, Arina stiffened before awkwardly patting his back.

“I knew you had plans for tonight! H-hold on, let’s at least find somewhere less exposed—”

Just as she began spiraling into misunderstandings, the bushes rustled violently.

The two sprang apart, turning toward the noise.

They expected a wild animal, but the figure who emerged was painfully familiar—to Arina alone.

“Marin!”

“Long time no see, Arina.”

Marin waved warmly at Arina before spotting the man beside her. Her expression frosted over instantly.

“Who’s this? Not from the village. Why are you with Arina?”

“I’m—”

“Are you the porter?”