Calliphe headed to the library in the east wing of the Marquis’s mansion.

The librarian flinched upon seeing her face.

“What are you look… eek!”

“Oh, you remember me?”

This librarian was the one who used to bully Noah. The same man who nearly got his eyes stabbed by Calliphe when he tried to be cruel to the child.

He had been so terrified that he fainted and wet himself simultaneously, earning him the nickname ‘Bedwetter’ among the servants.

He had been grinding his teeth in rage at that damned villainess, but now face-to-face with her…

“Welcome, my lady.”

A 90-degree bow.

Confronted by a real predator, politeness won over bravado.

Calliphe looked past him like he was a voice-recognition kiosk and stated her command.

“Materials about elven culture.”

“I’ll guide you.”

The librarian led her to the shelves, maintaining his deep bow while personally retrieving books.

“Bring me juice too.”

“Food and beverages are not allowed in the libra…”

Bang!

Calliphe slammed the desk.

“Oh, there was a bug. What were you saying?”

“…I was about to say you’re welcome to enjoy food and beverages as you please.”

After offering juice and cookies, the librarian backed away.

Calliphe sat comfortably at the desk and opened the books.

After several failed attempts with different books, she finally found the information she sought.

“Here it is. Characteristics of half-elves.”

Through ‘Marino’ she knew that fairy mint was effective on Marcel, but she didn’t know exactly why.

‘The game doesn’t explain every detail about supporting characters.’

She had to figure out the gaps in information herself.

‘If I understand why fairy mint is needed, I can approach him more effectively.’

The information she discovered proved more useful than expected.

It even helped her form future plans.

‘According to this, I should attend the Harvest Festival.’

She had been wondering whether to go since it wasn’t strictly necessary. But now she had to.

She sent an application for the Harvest Festival through a servant.

When she returned to the annex after finishing her preparations, Noah had a worried look on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“The green pepper head got dragged away by the Duke.”

“Huh?”

“The carriage was all bumpy bumpy.”

“…?”

She had no idea what he meant.

It wasn’t until a few days later that she vaguely understood those words.

* * *

In a quiet bedroom.

A cozy space made of thick tree roots that gave the feeling of being in nature.

Marcel appeared, cutting through the air.

“Good morning, Archmage.”

Following his routine, he first checked on Marquis Offensa’s condition.

The wrinkled body lay motionless, resembling a corpse.

If not for the very slow breathing, he would have appeared already dead.

Marquis Offensa’s skin grew paler with each passing day.

“You must overcome this, Archmage.”

Marcel muttered like a prayer while tightly gripping Marquis Offensa’s hand.

The successive Marquis Offensa had been people who helped realize Marcel’s dreams in his stead. Magical geniuses worthy of serving as masters.

But Graham Offensa meant something more to Marcel.

The only person who respected and accepted him for who he was, as a half-elf.

His only true friend.

Marcel had tried everything possible to restore his friend’s complexion.

But there had been no progress at all.

Nights of self-loathing continued as he wondered if someone like him simply wasn’t good enough.

The self-loathing spread to others too.

He grew increasingly resentful of Calliphe Offensa, who hadn’t shown her face even once since the Marquis collapsed.

‘But she recently sent a letter saying she wanted to visit the Archmage.’

What wind had brought about this change?

Lately, Marcel had been viewing Calliphe more favorably than before.

She was taking excellent care of her sponsored child, had manifested golden mana, and was now openly opposing the Young Marquis. She was clearly growing.

But none of that really mattered much to Marcel.

‘If she can’t resolve her mana incompatibility, it means nothing to me.’

Whether she qualified as the new Archmage or not. That was all he wanted to know.

‘Archmage… Graham. I too hope your granddaughter will succeed you as Archmage.’

However, he had no intention of being lenient just because she was the Archmage’s granddaughter.

If anything, he would judge her by even stricter standards.

“…Ugh.”

His head spun with dizziness.

“This again. It’s happening more and more often…”

The Luminasil was helping, but it was reaching its limit.

Marcel pressed his temples hard, trying to swallow the dizziness.

‘Anyway… let’s test Lady Calliphe’s intentions.’

If she was visiting on mere whim, he would have her expelled without meeting her.

Marcel made his decision.

* * *

The day after finally receiving Marcel’s reply, Calliphe boarded a carriage heading to the Magic Tower.

Calliphe sat Noah beside her and took a seat across from Lynen.

Glance. She checked his mood.

‘He’s been oddly quiet lately.’

After avoiding eye contact since that night they slept together, he had somehow returned to his usual expressionless self.

‘But it’s subtly different from usual.’

He looked somewhat angry.

No. It was slightly different from anger.

In other words, that was…

‘Competitiveness?’

Just then, Calliphe’s and Lynen’s eyes met. His eyes flashed blue.

Bump!

The carriage jolted, seemingly hitting a stone.

Noah just bounced slightly, but oddly, only Calliphe pitched forward.

“Eek!?”

Plop.

When she came to her senses, she found herself in Lynen’s arms.

“Th-this was an accident!”

Flustered, Calliphe quickly tried to get up.

But her wrist was gently caught, and she was pulled back onto Lynen’s lap.

“Whether it was an accident doesn’t really matter. We’re engaged after all, aren’t we?”

“W-well, that’s true but.”

Why act when it’s just us?

She was about to ask that but quickly swallowed her words. Come to think of it, Noah was in the carriage too.

Noah’s eyes sparkled with expectation.

Calliphe glanced at Noah and tried to signal Lynen with her eyes, but Lynen either didn’t notice or ignored it as he calmly said.

“I needed you anyway.”

“Me? Why?”

“Why? Because you haven’t touched me in a while.”

“W-wait. That sounds a bit wrong?”

Lynen slowly stroked Calliphe’s hand with his thumb.

“Touch me.”

“That’s not what I…”

“Or should I touch you?”

His lips landed on her fingers. His wolf-like eyes looking up at Calliphe held a faint smile.

“Darling.”

“…!”

Goosebumps rose on her skin.

She thought she was used to being called ‘darling’ by now.

‘But when he whispers it in such a low voice…!’

Thump. Thump.

See? It’s so spine-tingling that even her heart hates it.

Lynen’s eyes gazing at her were dry, without a trace of humor.

Like a hot desert.

‘But his gaze is kind of… scary too?’

A gaze full of competitiveness rather than gentleness.

Lynen developing this one-sided competitive spirit was all because of his meeting(?) with Dietrich.