From beneath the hood, a pair of shadowed eyes swept over her.

“You didn’t wash—you practically drowned.”

There was clear amusement in his voice.

The dim light caught in his dark gaze, brightening it just enough for her to finally see the true color of his eyes.

Violet.

A color far more beautiful and rare than her own hair—like seaweed chewed up and spat out by a cow.

“Finish washing.”

He pulled the door handle back.

“I’ll have them bring more clothes and hot water.”

He briefly glanced at her dull, soaked clothes before closing the door behind him.

Her clothes felt heavier and stiffer than usual because they were wet.

She absentmindedly gripped the rough fabric, then let go again.

She still didn’t understand what had gone wrong.

“Miss, I’ve brought hot water.”

It wasn’t just one thing she didn’t understand; it was many things.

So what?

With a bright, composed smile, she opened the door for the innkeeper, who was standing outside with a bucket of steaming water. Warm and kind by nature, she worked cheerfully alongside a maid, bringing in bucket after bucket of water, allowing her skirt to become completely soaked in the process.

By the time the bath was filled to the brim, she had also laid out a fresh change of clothes.

As she sank slowly into the hot water once more, the warmth that had begun to fade gently returned, wrapping around her like a quiet comfort.

“Hyah.”

The water level had not risen.

But she wasn’t disappointed.

After all, something strange had happened again, just one day after her memories had been sealed away.

Maybe she was an extraordinary mage after all.

No — she was definitely one.

“Wow…”

She stared at her wrinkled, waterlogged fingers in awe as they slowly puckered.

***

“Hey.”

At his call, she lifted her head.

The Crown Prince swallowed back a sigh.

She was eating with no restraint whatsoever — her cheeks were puffed out as if they might burst, and she was clutching a brown loaf of bread between her lips. How could all of that fit inside her small mouth?

She merely tilted her head in confusion when he addressed her, still chewing earnestly. She held tightly to a fork speared with sausage in one hand and a knife in the other, as if unwilling to put either down.

Even so, she widened her eyes slightly, as though to show that she was listening — a habit she had never quite outgrown.

Her messy green hair hung in tangled strands like seaweed.

It was quite a sight.

The situation wasn’t meant to be amusing.

And yet, somehow, he found it entertaining.

“You eat well.”

Still chewing her bread, she looked at him, confused.

He had removed his hood to reveal the face he usually kept hidden and was now staring at her.

There was something slightly strange about his gaze and expression.

“Is it good?”

She had to answer somehow.

“Mmm…”

Letting out an indistinct sound, she nodded enthusiastically.

The oversized bread—nearly as big as her gaunt face—bobbed along with her movement.

Solishar let out a disbelieving chuckle.

“Goes down easy, does it?”

She paused for a moment and looked at him.

He had ordered so much food for her, so why was he asking that now?

She didn’t understand.

Nevertheless, she nodded again, more firmly this time.

It went down smoothly.

“Ah… I see.”

His appetite had completely disappeared, yet the person who had caused it was eating as if they were unaffected.

It was absurd.

Under the table, he lowered his hand and brushed it over his abdomen, right where she had stabbed him the previous night. It had been a deep wound.

And yet, not a trace remained.

Like her, he had forgotten everything; she stood there, unnervingly calm and untouched by it all.

There were so many things he wanted to ask her.

But he couldn’t.

When she had stood there, drenched and staring at him in the bathroom, she hadn’t been thinking about anything at all.

It had only been him. He was the one who had frozen, even if just for a moment, at the sight of her pale face and clear eyes, which were made brighter by the water clinging to her.

She hesitated briefly, then slowly started to chew again, watching him with quiet caution.

Her restless gaze flickered between him and the food, uncertain and wavering.

“Eat more.”

Thank goodness she had an appetite!

Solishar gave a vague wave and turned his head away, his expression devoid of emotion.

Everything had ended the previous day.

There was nothing left for him to worry about.

Nom, nom.

The bread bounced excitedly in front of him.

It was irritating.

Eventually, Solishar reached out and grabbed it, despite it moving wildly.

At the same time, she was pulled forward with it.

“Put something down.”

‘No!’

With the bread clenched tightly in her mouth, she gripped her utensils even harder.

Something about his tone made it seem like he might take everything away.

“I’m not taking it. Just eat one thing at a time. Slow down. Put down what you’re holding. Now.”

After a long mix of scolding and coaxing, Solishar finally managed to pull the bread away.

“Don’t just swallow it whole. Chew twenty times.”

At that remark, the way she chewed, clearly dissatisfied, was almost amusing.

Yet her eyes were fixed on the bread he had taken, tracking its movement as he moved it around.

Even when he waved it back and forth, she tracked it with complete focus until she appeared to become disorientated, frowning slightly and looking at him strangely.

He put the bread back on the plate.

“Finish what’s in your mouth first. Then eat what’s on your fork. After that, you can have it.”

Who on earth had decided to seal her memories?

Instead of properly interrogating her through lawful arrest and detention, he now found himself teaching her how to sit and eat slowly.

‘Surely she at least knows how to count to twenty… right?’

Leaning back against the stiff chair, he watched her.

She chewed—twenty times, just as told—then swallowed, her face turning sullen.

It was the first time he had seen her make that kind of expression, as if something had been taken from her.

“Drink.”

He handed her a glass of water.

She quickly took it, drank, and let out a soft breath.

She looked exactly like a starving beggar.

“Did the mages starve you?”

The guard rested his chin on his hand and asked her something.

She nodded again.

Then she took a big bite of sausage.

The juices burst in her mouth and the rich flavor spread. She marveled silently.

The bread was good, but this was even better.

“I said chew twenty times.”

She froze just as she was about to swallow it quickly and looked at him.

There was something about him — an undeniable, quiet presence.

He was not someone anyone could look down on.

Even a magistrate would likely tread carefully in his presence.

His gaze was sharp. Heavy.

Only then did she seem to notice his broad build and imposing height.

Lowering her eyes slightly, she began to chew more carefully, almost obediently.

Chewing twenty times took longer than she had expected.

Still, she counted each bite carefully until she felt that heavy gaze on her again.

She glanced up slightly.

The man was staring at her.

‘I’m doing exactly what he said… so why is he looking at me like that?’

‘I already counted to twenty… does that mean I’m not allowed to eat more?’

Her eyes flickered anxiously between the food and the man.

Then, suddenly, he let out a sigh.

“…Isn’t there anything you’re curious about? Anything that scares you?”

The words slipped out before he could stop them.

Solishar dragged a hand across his mouth.

There was nothing left for him to worry about.

He didn’t even want to be involved.

And yet—

The shattered, shapeless emotions still refused to settle.

They drifted within him, tangled and unresolved. Every so often, the fragments collided, creating a sharp spark.

Of course they would.

It had all happened just yesterday.

But the woman who remembered none of it simply tilted her head in quiet confusion.

“…My name…”

A small voice barely slipped out.

Only then did Solishar realize that it was the first time he had heard her speak today.

“Your name?”

“I want to change it.”

Her voice was soft, yet clear.

While he hesitated at the unexpected answer, she pulled the bowl of soup close and hugged it.

“Why?”

He frowned, puzzled.

Was she trying to discard the name of a criminal?

But she lifted her head slightly and answered without hesitation.

“I don’t like it. I’m going to make a new one.”

Her replies were growing more absurd by the moment.

“Then what’s your new name?”

“I don’t know yet. I only know two names, so I haven’t decided. But I’ll choose something pretty.”

And just like that, she took a bite of the bread he had cut for her, chewing it diligently.

Her cheeks puffed out as she ate so enthusiastically that it made anyone watching feel hungry, too.

Solishar, who hadn’t felt like eating until then, finally picked up his fork and broke off a piece of his own bread.

“Your original name is pretty too.”

She looked at him as if he had said something ridiculous.

In contrast, he ate the same bread neatly and calmly.

Only then did she grow slightly self-conscious.

Tearing off a piece of bread, she dipped it into the soup and asked him a question.

“Is ‘Ugly’ a pretty name?”

Well… people could have all sorts of tastes, right?

“I suppose someone might think so.”

She added that quickly, then opened her mouth wide to take a big bite of the soaked bread and soup.

“Why would your name be ‘Ugly’?”

She only rolled her eyes nervously in response.

The man was now staring at her intently.

Even in the dim candlelight, his silver hair shone beautifully.

She stiffened slightly and answered in a quiet voice.

“Yanke means ugly. I know that.”

“Yanke?”

His sharp, well-defined eyebrows stood out even more when he frowned, and his piercing gaze gleamed.

His eyes, which appeared strange in color when touched by light, shone in the darkness like a beast’s.

“Your name is Bellona.”