Die Melusine - Chapter 52

“You’re free to walk around here as you please.”

The western wing of the imperial palace, prepared for the Grand Duke—Melusine had come out for a walk in the garden with Anne’s guidance right after breakfast.

As she’d expected, Kieron hadn’t come to her room the night before. Melusine had waited for him almost until dawn before dozing off for a bit.

According to a tip from Anne, Kieron had ridden out on horseback with some of his men early this morning, leaving the palace.

Where had he gone this time? How long would she have to wait to see him again?

Even though she was far from the sea, a subtle ripple stirred around her chest. When he was by her side, she always wanted to hold him closer—and when they were apart, she missed him deeply.

Recalling the warmth of the man who had held her in his arms for days as they rode, Melusine walked slowly onward.

As expected of the imperial palace, the garden was massive.

And as if it were a signature feature here, a large fountain stood at its center, gushing cool streams of water, while vivid flowers bloomed in organized patches everywhere, sorted by color.

“Roses!”

Spotting her favorite flower, Melusine grew excited and ran toward the flowerbed. Lifting the hem of her skirt slightly with one hand, she quickened her steps in a small flurry. Anne, watching from behind, suddenly shouted in alarm.

“Miss! You’re not wearing your shoes again?!”

“Oh.”

Despite Anne’s repeated warnings, they’d felt so uncomfortable that Melusine had taken them off and left them in her room before coming out.

“Oh dear. This isn’t Triton, miss. No matter how uncomfortable they are, you really must wear your shoes.”

“Sorry, Anne…”

It still felt strange to hear Anne call her miss, but earlier that morning, Count Luthern had come to tell her that this was how she needed to be addressed while in the palace.

He’d also warned her never to reveal to anyone that she was a mermaid or where she had come from. She didn’t know the reasons, but since Kieron had said it, she planned to obey unconditionally.

“Please wait right here. I’ll go get them quickly. Don’t go anywhere, okay? Stay right by this fountain, at the entrance to the garden. Understood?”

“Okay!”

Melusine nodded eagerly, and only then did Anne hurry back toward the palace.

The sweet scent was delightful. Even among the roses, the shapes and colors seemed just slightly different. Though it wasn’t as relaxing as the Grand Duchy’s seaside gardens, flowers always calmed her heart.

Melusine closed her eyes, focusing all her senses on the breeze that carried the fragrances. If she tried hard enough, maybe she could catch a hint of the sea.

That was when she heard a familiar sound—like what she’d heard upon first arriving at the palace. Her heart began to race again. A strange melody, as delicate and ticklish as seafoam, shimmered faintly in the air and made the atmosphere tremble.

Anne had said this was called a flute, hadn’t she?

Unconsciously, Melusine began walking toward the sound.

The flute melody was playful, like a child darting through a field, yet whenever she followed it, it slipped just out of reach. Like the white foam of a wave—always there, almost touchable, and then gone. It made her feel a bit light-headed, as though caught in a dream.

How long had she walked? It seemed like she’d come quite far into the garden when she finally spotted someone sitting at the edge of a flowerbed overflowing with white blossoms.

A human man?

But his snow-white skin and delicate, perfectly proportioned features looked almost too beautiful.

His long lashes and pale eyes reminded her vaguely of Kieron, yet his downturned eyes and light-colored eyebrows were very different. Most of all, the long, golden hair flowing past his chest felt foreign and unfamiliar.

“Are… you a fairy?”

Melusine suddenly remembered a story her sisters used to tell. Fairies, who mostly lived deep in the mountains, sometimes appeared in human form—but if you got too close, they’d fly away on hidden wings. Her sisters also told her that humans often believed they were sea fairies.

Because of that tale, even though she was burning with curiosity about the being in front of her, Melusine hesitated, unsure if she should get any closer.

“…What?”

The voice was too soft to belong to a man, yet a bit too low to be a woman’s.

And his eyes carried an eerie atmosphere, like the sky right before a typhoon—clouded and shadowy. The gray tint, like storm clouds, muddled his gaze.

He lowered the flute to his lap and let a sly smile creep across his lips.

Was he really a fairy?

“Are you…?”

Melusine asked again, more firmly this time, as if seeking confirmation.

The man let out a chuckle, “Kuhuhuh,” and laughed aloud.

“Yeah, that’s right. And who might you be? Come a little closer.”

“Can I?”

Her blue eyes sparkled with curiosity. The fairy, looking up at her, suddenly narrowed one brow with sharp interest.

“Of course you can. If you come, I’ll tell you a really fun story.”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm, of course.” His reply was languid, dreamy—just like a real fairy’s. As Melusine inched closer, a bitter herbal scent, different from the fragrance of flowers, seemed to rise faintly from around him.

When she had come quite close, the fairy—who had been sprawled lazily—suddenly straightened his upper body and reached out his hand.

“What strange hair you have. Are you the fairy, perhaps?”

His hand was cold. As he tugged gently at her hair, stroking it curiously, Melusine shivered, pulling her shoulder in.

“No, I’m…”

The fairy toyed with her hair for a while, then, as if even more intrigued, brushed his fingers across the necklace around her neck.

“K…P… Ahh, so that’s you, then?”

A mischievous smile bloomed across his lips—one that made him look like a playful boy. He was beautiful, undeniably so, but the sight of it sent an involuntary chill down Melusine’s arms.

“You… know me?”

Melusine took a step closer, both curious and amazed.

As her small, bare white foot pressed into the grass with a soft srrrk, the fairy’s gaze followed it—almost hungrily.

“Ah!”

Thunk.

In a flash, the fairy snatched her ankle.

Thrown off balance, she fell backward onto the grass with a plop. Thankfully, the thick lawn cushioned the fall, so it didn’t hurt too much—but she winced from the shock.

“A pearl on your ankle… You must be quite treasured, huh?”

“Ow… What are you talking… about?”

Melusine tried to shake off his grip, but the fairy’s hand was much stronger than she expected.

“Isn’t it obvious? That great man of yours went out of his way to mark you, all over the place.”

A territory claim—saying “don’t touch.”

Makes it all the more tempting.

The fairy murmured something under his breath. She couldn’t make out the words, but it looked like the smile on his face was beginning to twist.

“Pink fairy… come on. Why don’t you play with me today?”

The hand gripping her ankle began sliding up—past her ankle bone, up her bare calf, which she hadn’t even covered with stockings.

It wasn’t just ticklish. It felt… wrong. Uncomfortable. Melusine flinched, unsure what to do.

Should I just kick him? But what if he really was a palace fairy? Could she just do that?

All sorts of thoughts rushed through her head.

“Um—no, it’s okay. Would you please let go of me?”

Her voice was soft, careful, but laced with real unease and a sincere plea.

She didn’t want to anger him—but she also didn’t want to play dumb and pretend she was fine.

At first, she had been curious about the fairy’s identity—but now, Melusine wanted nothing more than to hurry back to Anne. On top of that, the strange herbal scent that lingered in the air was giving her a headache.

“I don’t want to.”

“Huh…?”

The fairy’s unexpectedly firm reply made Melusine’s eyes widen. His gaze lingered briefly on her clear blue eyes and rose-red lips.

“I was bored anyway.”

Melusine, flustered, silently mouthed words, unsure how to firmly decline him. As she hesitated, the fairy, watching her, slowly licked his lips, as if his throat had gone dry.

“But… fine. Shall we play next time instead?”

“Y-yeah! Next time. Let’s play then.”

Thinking she probably wouldn’t run into him again anyway, Melusine gave a vague answer. The scent surrounding them was getting more and more unpleasant, and the urge to get away grew stronger.

The fairy, leaving her where she had fallen, stood up abruptly and brushed leaves off his trousers.

He gave her a sly smile, then staggered a little as he passed by her.

Melusine watched him absentmindedly, but then he suddenly turned his head back. His long platinum hair followed with a soft srrrk.

“Oh. And that promise to play next time—you have to keep it, okay?”

Melusine gave a slow, reluctant nod.

“Then, you have to tell me your name.”

“M-my name?”

“Yeah. How else am I supposed to find you?”

Like a real fairy, with wings and all.

For some reason, Melusine didn’t want to say her name. She hesitated. But the fairy stood there obstinately, as if he wouldn’t leave unless she told him.

“…Melu…sine.”

“Ha, Melusine, huh…”

His smile clung to his face—not quite fairy-like, but something stickier, something faintly fishy—before it vanished.

The wind that once carried the sound of his flute blew again, more bitter and cold this time, brushing across both of her cheeks.