WFMW 58

Chapter 58 Someone Precious to Me

April 23, 2024

Magic is fascinating—because its answers are always clear.

Studying magic is like groping one’s way down a dark, unseen path, one step at a time—whether you fail or succeed. There’s always an answer. It’s just not visible to me yet.

But people?

[Big sister.]

Grisha, who had once seemed like someone who’d never reach out first, turned out to be incredibly affectionate once we got close.

He’d sometimes ask to be hugged because he was lonely, or tell me to stay with him when he was sick.

Honestly, I found that Grisha adorable—like taking care of a younger sibling.

Diana, on the other hand, was someone who scolded me, not someone I could take care of.

And Grisha had always responded to my affection with sincerity.

[You’re my favorite person in the whole world, big sister.]

Sweet Grisha. Kind, beautiful, and gentle.

‘I just want him to be happy.’

As I recalled the younger Grisha, my eyes slowly opened. The room was dim, lit only by a small lamp at my bedside.

The flickering light traced the side of a man’s face sitting next to me—sharp lines, long black hair cascading over his shoulders.

It was Grisha.

‘He’s still so beautiful.’

Even now, grown taller than me and clearly an adult, “beautiful” still suited him better than “handsome.”

I lay there quietly for a while, watching his side profile, before finally speaking.

“…Are you planning to keep living like this—so awkwardly?”

Lost in thought, Grisha finally turned his head toward me.

“You’re awake? Does your head still hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s a relief.”

His slender fingers brushed my messy hair aside.

The touch tickled, and when I blinked my eyes open again, his icy-blue gaze was fixed directly on me.

“What do you mean, ‘living awkwardly’?”

There it was again—that faint, unsettling pressure from him.

It wasn’t as though Grisha would ever try to intimidate me, but my body tensed instinctively. I lowered my gaze, avoiding his eyes, and murmured,

“You and Sidor were practically sparring back in the dining room.”

“Ah.”

Grisha’s eyes curved gently. But I knew that wasn’t a real smile. I’d spent too many years with him not to recognize the difference.

He brushed my hair back behind my ear again and said,

“But you cut your hair. Was that to hide your identity? What a shame. I liked your long hair, Nelly.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not. I’ve been wanting to say that since earlier. I’m just curious—what made you suddenly decide to cut it?”

“There wasn’t any big reason. Just…”

I remembered when he had kissed the ends of my hair—and how immediately after that, Sidor had suggested cutting it.

‘Wait. Were they already in some kind of rivalry back then?’

I squinted, then sighed softly, brushing off the thought. No way. That would be ridiculous.

‘I don’t even know why I ended up caught between those two in the first place.’

Still, since I was caught in between, I figured I had the right to voice an opinion.

Sitting up slowly, I spoke in a calm tone.

“You don’t actually hate Sidor, do you? It’s just that things went wrong, and now you’re both awkward with each other.”

“Why do you think I don’t hate him?”

“Because the Grisha I know isn’t the kind of person who wastes energy hating others.”

“…”

Grisha pressed his lips together tightly.

I reached out first, taking his hand. His fingers felt strangely cold.

“If it’s just because there’s no real reason to talk, maybe I can be that bridge between you two. If there’s even one chance to be honest, you could start understanding each other.”

Of course, I had my own selfish reasons too.

Diana and I were beyond repair—but Sidor and Grisha weren’t.

‘Both of them are good people. It’s a shame for them to stay like this, just because of a misunderstanding.’

That was why I was meddling like this—something I usually never did.

After thinking quietly for a while, Grisha finally spoke.

“I’d like to say I don’t hate him, like a good child would, but I can’t. I have a clear reason why I can’t ever like him.”

“A reason?”

Grisha sighed softly, and the story that followed was heavier than anything I could’ve imagined.

“My mother was poisoned.”

“What?”

In all the years I’d known him, Grisha had never talked about his family.

I bit my lip before asking cautiously,

“Did they find who did it?”

“They caught the maid who served her the poisoned drink. But not the person who gave the order.”

“And that person was…?”

“Yes. Lady Brier—the Duke’s wife. Sidor’s mother.”

“…”

My lips went dry. Lady Brier—the elegant woman with the silver hair. Sidor’s mother.

‘If I ask for proof, I’ll just hurt Grisha again.’

And besides, Grisha wasn’t the kind of person to make such a claim without evidence.

Lady Brier was capable of such cruelty.

‘She sent assassins after me just for marrying her son. Killing her husband’s first wife would’ve been nothing to her.’

If anything, living under the same roof made it easier.

The weight of his confession pressed heavily on me.

Grisha turned his hand over, enclosing mine within his palm, and gently rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb as he continued.

“My mother came here through an arranged marriage to a foreign land where she couldn’t even speak the language. It was hard for her to adjust. And Lady Brier made that even harder. She lied constantly, twisting things between my parents. Even after I was born, she used Sidor as a shield to make sure my mother never left the duchy.”

It wasn’t hard to imagine the atmosphere of that household—where the wife, the mistress, and the illegitimate child all lived under one roof.

‘If only Sidor had been a useless son, maybe things wouldn’t have been so bad.’

Even I could tell that Sidor resembled Duke Granite far more than Lady Brier.

He’d been gifted from a young age—no doubt his swordsmanship talent had been apparent even then.

Grisha gave a bitter smile.

“Even knowing all that, I never hated him. None of it was his fault. But the poisoning… that was different.”

“…Are you saying Sidor was involved?”

My throat tightened; my heart thudded painfully. Grisha met my eyes again.

“Is that curiosity for me, Nelly?”

Or… something else?

I couldn’t even answer, still lost in confusion—when suddenly Grisha pushed me gently but firmly back down.

I fell onto the bed once more.

He straightened the blanket and my hair, then patted my arm softly.

“Go to sleep. You’ll be tired tomorrow.”

“Ah… okay.”

He stood and left the room, closing the door behind him.

But I couldn’t sleep.

I lay there staring into the dark, biting my lip.

‘Sidor would never… There has to be some misunderstanding.’

The Sidor Granite I knew wasn’t someone who’d cover up injustice.

Sighing, I closed my eyes.

‘I just wish they could reconcile.’

Why did I feel so painfully sad about this?

Even I couldn’t answer that.

Grisha stepped out of Nelly’s room.

Immediately, he was greeted by an unwelcome sight—a man standing against the wall, arms crossed, his expression grim.

Sidor.

There was no need to ask why he was standing outside Nelly’s door. The reason was obvious.

Grisha’s lips twisted in quiet scorn.

‘How laughable. Who’s protecting whom here?’

Disgust churned in his chest. Did Sidor really think he would harm Nelly?

Didn’t he know how much Grisha cherished her?

The man facing him looked calm—too calm.

Those unshaken silver-gray eyes only deepened Grisha’s irritation.

Without thinking, he blurted out,

“Nelly’s off-limits.”

“Grisha.”

Once the dam cracked, his pent-up emotions flooded out. Grisha’s voice trembled with resentment.

“Why did it have to be her? You could have any woman you want. No—don’t even bother choosing. You could just marry whoever Lady Brier tells you to, like always!”

He was furious. That man didn’t even understand Nelly’s worth, yet he’d taken the place of her husband—so easily.

Something Grisha had longed for so desperately, but could never have.

Sidor sighed quietly. There was nothing he could say to defend himself.

“It was coincidence. Pure coincidence.”

Just luck. Nothing more.

That answer scraped at Grisha’s insides like a blade. That was always how Sidor was.

Born the Duke’s eldest son, gifted without even trying.

Even the servants who’d once whispered about his “illegitimate” birth had fallen silent the moment he became the youngest Sword Master in history.

‘Even if it was chance, this is too cruel.’

He’d already taken everything precious from Grisha, one thing at a time—and now, he’d taken Nelly too.

“Divorce her,” Grisha spat, his voice sharp as steel. “You never cared about keeping your promise to that Diana Ferryway woman anyway.”

Sidor rubbed his brow wearily.