Chapter 9 – The Foreigner’s Secret Circumstances

Brandon, facing the tawny eyes that radiated a beast-like menace, felt his knees weaken.

“Uh, ugh, uh…”

As the third son of a powerful family, he had lived in luxury and never felt true danger. So, overwhelmed by fear for the first time, he could barely speak.

‘How dare you.’

Usher recognized him as the man who had been lurking around Camellia, trying to make advances. It irritated him, but since Brandon seemed harmless, he had only watched. As a mere foreigner, he couldn’t recklessly lay hands on a noble from another country.

But if this man touched something precious to him, the story changed.

“Not going to talk?”

“Aaaah!”

Brandon screamed in pain as Usher’s grip tightened on his arm. He could only howl, unable to form words, as Usher looked around the waiting room with contempt.

Just like outside, everyone inside was sprawled unconscious. But the owner of the flower was not among them. Usher’s eyes filled with anxiety and anger.

His grip grew harsher.

Crunch!

“Aaaah! Sleep! Go to sleep!”

Brandon, feeling his bones about to break, screamed and reflexively raised the hourglass he held.

But Usher simply snatched it from him.

And then—

“[Don’t, Sir Usher!]”

“[…Janak.]”

A subordinate, quickly assessing the situation, grabbed his shoulder.

“[If you destroy the magic tool, there’s no way to wake the sleeping people.]”

“[…]”

Usher sighed and relaxed his grip on the hourglass. Janak immediately took it.

Brandon, robbed of his magic tool, made a final desperate attempt.

“Give it back! It’s mine! Mine…!”

Crunch! Brandon’s wrist, still held by Usher, twisted unnaturally.

“Aaaah!”

With a broken wrist, Brandon fainted.

Usher carefully retrieved the flower from his hand, then kicked Brandon’s limp body aside. He swept aside the waiting room curtain and looked around the tavern.

“[How’s the ituation?]”

“[Everyone’s just asleep. No one is in danger.]”

“[Same outside. Everyone within 500 meters of the tavern is asleep.]”

Usher’s subordinates reported as they investigated. Janak examined the hourglass and sighed.

“[We just need to adjust the memories of those inside. It’s lucky, really. This is a powerful lost magic tool—could’ve been much worse… Sir Usher?]”

As Usher suddenly re-entered the waiting room, Janak followed, puzzled.

Inside, many people were still unconscious. Janak gently propped up Olga, the tavern owner, against the wall, and watched Usher searching through the fallen bodies.

‘He said he wouldn’t regret it.’

No matter Janak’s expression, Usher searched every face.

‘She was here.’

The one who used the magic tool was targeting Camellia. So she must have been here until recently.

‘If she was hit by the magic, she couldn’t have gone far. Maybe outside?’

Unable to find Camellia, Usher turned to leave. Then he spotted a woman not far away.

A brown-haired woman in plain black clothes, asleep. She stood out among the performers in flashy costumes and heavy makeup.

‘This is the performers’ waiting room.’

She was the only one dressed simply—not like a staff member either.

Usher walked over, eyebrows twitching.

He heard breathing.

Among the peaceful, steady breaths of the sleeping, hers was shaky and troubled.

‘Could it be?’

He quickened his pace, grabbed the brown-haired woman’s wrist, and lifted her.

Something invisible brushed his hand.

Usher’s eyes widened. He groped at the empty air. Soon, he felt something and instinctively twisted it.

Click!

The clasp came undone, and a person appeared before him, revealed by the broken magic.

“Camellia…!”

Usher immediately gathered her into his arms. Irien’s eyelashes fluttered as she lay limp, sweating.

‘…Usher?’

She had spent her last strength to save Senri, so she couldn’t move anymore. The rising heat made her mind hazy, but the voice in her ear was so familiar she tried to open her eyes.

But her vision was blurry; she couldn’t see him properly.

‘Is this a dream…’

Of course, he couldn’t suddenly be here.

Irien decided the person before her was just an illusion conjured by her heart.

Seeing her fading focus, Usher’s expression grew grave.

“Camellia? Camellia! Wake up!”

“[What’s wrong, Sir Usher?]”

“[Janak! Come check. Something’s wrong. I think it’s a different magic, not just the tool…]”

As Janak rushed over, Usher stopped speaking. Her hand, clad in black gloves, touched his face.

“…Sher.”

“Camellia? Can you recognize me?”

Recognize him? Irien, feverish, smiled faintly. Her defenseless smile made Usher’s eyes tremble.

‘If it’s a dream… I can say anything.’

Unaware of his turmoil, she moved her lips.

“Like…”

“What?”

“I like you, too…”

Usher’s face stiffened. Without knowing how he looked at her, Irien continued, fumbling.

“Actually, back then…”

She wanted to hold him. To ask him not to leave.

To stay by her side…

Her eyes closed. Her hand, touching Usher’s face, slid down. Before it dropped, a larger hand caught her fingers.

“…Ha.”

A weary breath fell on her tightly shut eyelids. Usher leaned toward her and stayed still for a while.

Janak, witnessing his superior being confessed to, quietly looked away.

Normally, it would be polite to leave, but he couldn’t ignore the woman’s condition he’d just checked.

“[It’s a side effect. It seems this woman—no, this lady—was once cursed by another magic tool. If she were a native, her magic would circulate and ease it, but for people here…]”

Janak hesitated.

“[…They have no magic, so you need to infuse and circulate it directly.]”

“[…]”

“[It’s serious, so the sooner, the better.]”

Hearing this, Usher tightened his hold on Irien. He stood, lifting Camellia in his arms.

“[I’ll leave the situation here to you, Janak.]”

“[…Yes.]”

Janak nodded, seeing his superior’s resolve. No further explanation was needed.

‘He has the strongest magic among us.’

***

Irien was struggling in endless flames.

‘Hot… It hurts…’

She knew her body wasn’t actually burning. That made it worse.

Even pouring water or tearing at her clothes wouldn’t cool the heat.

She felt her makeup melting. Her wig, once firmly fixed, was cast aside. Yet she never touched her gloves.

Those, at least, she would never…

“Really…”

A low voice seeped into her ear. Irien opened her blurred eyes.

Someone approached, lifted her upper body, and touched her forehead.

“Your fever’s gotten worse. You should have called out.”

“U…Sher…”

“Yes, it’s me.”

She heard water trickling. Soon, something wet covered her face.

Gently, carefully, he wiped her. The cool touch felt so good she clung to his wrist.

‘Where am I?’

She tried to open her fading eyes and looked around. It was an unfamiliar room.

“It’s the Tefnu Merchant Group’s branch. I couldn’t leave you there.”

Usher explained, sensing her confusion. Irien, blinking weakly, moved her lips.

“Senri…”

“If you mean the person with you, we’re taking care of her.”

“…Okay.”

Whether it was a dream or reality, his calm voice reassured her. Irien closed her eyes, burying her face in his hand as he wiped her sweat.

“Hot…”

“…”

Usher grit his teeth. He pretended to be calm, but he was anything but.

‘This is driving me crazy.’

The Camellia he knew was always dazzling, mysterious, and made people restless. Now, seeing her completely defenseless and honest, he was at his limit.

Whether she knew it or not, Irien realized the coolness wasn’t just from the wet towel.