Die Melusine - Chapter 27

“Kieron?”

Melusine’s bright and cheerful voice broke through the tension like a splash of sunlight. The soldier gripping her arm trembled violently, as if faced with a giant cloaked in shadow.

Crack.

Kieron merely reached out, prying the soldier’s hand off Melusine’s arm, but the action made the soldier collapse to his knees with a scream, clutching his wrist as if it were broken.

But none of this registered with Melusine. Her world was focused solely on the man before her. Golden eyes met hers, and her heart raced wildly at the unexpected encounter.

“I missed you! So, so much!”

Oblivious to the flapping fish still in her hand, Melusine threw her arms around Kieron, burying her face in his firm chest. She stretched her arms as far as they would go, but his broad body was far too wide to embrace fully.

His warmth pressed against her, grounding her as she held him tightly. Yet, despite her heartfelt confession, Kieron didn’t move. He neither embraced her in return nor said a word.

Is he angry? Or does he not like this?

Worried, Melusine lifted her head to search his face, trying to decipher the emotions in his sharp, golden eyes. But his expression remained unreadable, his gaze fixed solely on her. Or so she thought—she could have sworn she caught the faintest sigh escaping him.

“Your Grace…?”

The unfamiliar voice of another woman rang out from behind Melusine. Her head turned instinctively toward the sound.

Wow…

Melusine couldn’t help but let out a small gasp.

The woman approaching them moved with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly. Her golden hair, intricately braided and adorned with colorful feathers, shimmered in the sunlight. She wore a sky-blue dress that glowed faintly with a silken sheen, each movement sending ripples through the gemstones sewn into its fabric.

Her poised demeanor, slightly tilted chin, and lips curved in a faint, enigmatic smile exuded an elegance Melusine had never seen before. But what truly captivated her were the woman’s eyes—a deep violet, like a brilliant sunset on a clear day.

She’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, Melusine thought, unable to tear her gaze away.

“Hesnal.”

The name that finally escaped Kieron’s lips wasn’t Melusine’s, but the name of the approaching woman.

The lady, now standing near them, was evidently the one called Hesnal. She had yet to glance even briefly at Melusine, her attention wholly on Kieron. Similarly, Kieron didn’t so much as acknowledge Melusine clinging to him.

For a moment, Melusine felt as though she had disappeared entirely from their world. A strange ache blossomed in her chest, unfamiliar and unwelcome.

“It’s been so long, Your Grace. I’ve heard you’ve achieved yet another great feat recently,” Hesnal said, her voice light and airy, like a delicate breeze stirred by the handkerchief she fluttered near her face.

She spoke with a polished elegance entirely unlike Anne’s warmth or Kieron’s blunt tone. Her words danced in the air like the subtle fragrance of spring blossoms.

“I heard you’re planning a visit to my father soon,” she continued, her tone soft yet firm.

Kieron brushed his thumb across the bridge of his nose, a faint sign of irritation flashing in his otherwise stoic expression. He despised unexpected situations, and Hesnal seemed acutely aware of this as she smoothly carried the conversation forward.

“It’s my first time visiting the Triton Duchy since childhood,” she explained, her smile widening just enough to show her poise. “And since this will soon become my home, I thought it was only proper to see it in its entirety. Father said Your Grace would be pleased by my interest. I hope I haven’t caused any inconvenience?”

The soft, tinkling laugh that punctuated her words carried with it a subtle, calculated charm. Hesnal’s father, the Marquis, clearly had ulterior motives in sending her. Melusine could sense it, even if she couldn’t understand all the nuances.

But Melusine wasn’t paying attention to the meaning of Hesnal’s words. She was captivated by the woman’s graceful movements, the flutter of her gloves, and the way her long lashes quivered when she spoke.

“No. You’ll come with me—to the main estate.”

“Truly? I’m delighted,” Hesnal replied, her violet eyes shimmering as she covered her lips with her handkerchief.

Kieron gave a slight nod, then cast a glance at Ian, who immediately stepped forward.

Melusine, still holding her fish and standing by Kieron’s side, felt a pang of unease. The world around her seemed to grow colder, and the ache in her chest deepened.

“By the way, who is this young lady? May I have an introduction?”

At last, the attention of Kieron and Lady Hesnal shifted to Melusine, still clinging to the duke’s chest.

“As you can see,” Kieron replied, his tone indifferent.

He glanced down at Melusine with narrowed, lazy eyes before draping her cloak back over her shoulders and fastening it securely beneath her chin. His movements were precise, ensuring the tie wouldn’t come loose.

“A pet. Trouble-prone.”

Though his voice was flat and dispassionate, Melusine clung tighter to his waist, as if determined not to let him go.

Lady Hesnal’s gaze lingered on the pair for a moment before she turned her head with feigned disinterest. However, her sharp eyes caught sight of the raw fish still flopping in Melusine’s hand. Her lips twitched, betraying the briefest expression of disdain, which she quickly smoothed into a polite smile.

“A beautiful pet is always the most difficult to manage,” she said lightly, her tone perfectly composed.

She extended her hand toward Kieron, her palm turned upward in an elegant gesture requesting an escort to her carriage. It was a move that spoke of refined aristocratic training.

“I’ll leave myself in your care, Your Grace.”

Despite Melusine’s desperate grip, Kieron slipped free of her grasp effortlessly, as if her hands had no weight or hold.

Bending his arm toward Lady Hesnal, he allowed her delicate hand to rest lightly upon it.

As the two began to walk away, Lady Hesnal cast a sidelong glance back at Melusine. A subtle smirk curled at her lips, one that held more amusement than malice. When Melusine, oblivious to its meaning, smiled warmly back, Lady Hesnal flinched slightly and turned her head forward again.

Melusine could only watch helplessly as the two retreated, their figures growing smaller with each step. The warmth of Kieron’s presence vanished, replaced by a hollow chill that seemed to settle in her chest.

The ribbon Anne had tied under her collar that morning felt oddly tight and uncomfortable, as though it were pressing against a tender bruise.

“Melusine.”

His voice rang out suddenly, freezing her in place. Kieron stopped, his head tilting slightly to the side as if to glance back.

Without thinking, Melusine stepped forward, her heart urging her to run to him.

“Stay put,” he said curtly.

And that was it.

Kieron helped Lady Hesnal into the grand carriage, mounted his horse, and disappeared down the road with his escort.

All Melusine could do was watch, memorizing every gesture, every movement, as if afraid they might slip from her mind.

“Let’s head out too,” Ian said, his tone gentle yet firm.

“…Okay,” Melusine replied softly.

She had wanted to follow him.

Her shoulders drooped as she turned away, her dress swishing lightly around her ankles. Suddenly, someone yanked sharply on her skirt hem.

“Don’t go! Don’t leave me behind!”

Startled, Melusine looked down to find the old woman clutching her dress with trembling hands, her tear-streaked face contorted in desperation.

The old woman, who had been muttering to herself in the corner, clung tightly to Melusine’s legs as if she had been waiting for her chance. Ian stepped forward to pry her off, but Melusine knelt down first, meeting the woman’s desperate gaze.

From the ground, she picked up one of the flopping fish that had fallen during the commotion and handed it to the old woman.

“I’m sorry…” she said softly.

The old woman didn’t respond, tearing into the fish with fervor. Yet Melusine repeated her apology, her voice filled with genuine regret.

Ian, still wary, stood nearby, watching the strange exchange with a hand resting on his sword hilt. He stayed on high alert, prepared to intervene if the old woman tried anything suspicious.

Suddenly, the woman paused her frenzied eating. She rolled her cloudy eyes back briefly, then spun them sharply to focus on Melusine. With a swift, jerky motion, she grabbed Melusine’s wrist and pulled her closer.

Ian’s blade was half-drawn, but he stopped when the old woman pressed her cracked lips to Melusine’s ear and whispered:

“When the time comes… choose the sea, child… always.”

The voice was no longer hoarse or fractured. It was smooth, melodic—eerily familiar, like the voices of her sisters back in Bérezède.

“Huh? What do you mean…?” Melusine asked, her eyes wide with confusion.

But the old woman had already turned back to her fish, completely absorbed in devouring it. No matter how many times Melusine asked, the woman ignored her, refusing to elaborate further.

Ian finally sheathed his sword but kept a close watch as he helped Melusine to her feet. Whatever the old woman’s cryptic message meant, it left a strange weight lingering in the air.

***

The curtains in the duke’s study were drawn open as always.

“Your Grace, you called for me? I was just about to inform you that the Marquis has sent word—they’ll be departing shortly—”

“Was it your idea?”

Kieron’s question came abruptly, his voice cold and even, as he stood by the window without turning to face Ian.

“Excuse me? No, Your Grace. I assumed the Marquis intends to follow after his daughter, who has already arrived.”

Swish.

Kieron yanked the curtain shut with such force that it rattled in its rail. The room plunged into shadow, and Ian suddenly felt as though the air had grown heavy and stifling. Struggling to take a steady breath, he was startled when Kieron’s iron grip clamped down on his shoulder.

“Melusine. You gave her permission to leave.”

Ah. Ian bit his lip, gritting his teeth as the duke’s unyielding strength bore down on him. He lowered his head in apology.

“My deepest apologies, Your Grace. It was my mistake.”

He had underestimated the situation. Allowing Melusine to go to the city had seemed harmless. After all, hadn’t Kieron permitted her to swim freely in the sea? She had shown no signs of wanting to escape, and precautions had been taken with a guard accompanying her.

“Don’t overstep, Ian.”

“Understood, Your Grace. It won’t happen again.”

The pressure on his shoulder eased, and Ian exhaled shakily as the tension drained from his rigid muscles, leaving behind a dull ache.

Still, he considered himself fortunate that the punishment had been so mild.

Kieron’s expression betrayed nothing, but his movements as he returned to his seat carried a faint hint of irritation, a rare glimpse into his mood. Settling into his chair, he leaned back heavily, his fatigue barely concealed.

“So the Marquis arrives the day after tomorrow?”

“That is the expectation, Your Grace.”

“Make the preparations. And…”

Kieron closed his eyes, sinking deeper into thought as the lines on his forehead deepened. Ian straightened reflexively, his nerves taut.

“Melusine.”

The name caught Ian off guard. He hadn’t expected to hear it mentioned now. Swallowing his unease, he responded carefully.

“Ah, yes. Shall I summon her immediately? To the study, or… perhaps her chambers…?”

Kieron’s eyes slid open, the sharp golden hue dimmed by a shadowy storm.

“Never mind. Dismissed.”

“Understood, Your Grace.”

Ian bowed and left the study.

Neither that day nor the next did Kieron send for Melusine. His attendants made no effort to seek her out. She remained untouched by his summons, lingering in a silence that grew heavier with each passing hour.