ATPL 37

The Letter.

Anais found it utterly unbearable to see the accusation letter scattered about so carelessly.

That filthy, vile accusation letter. Its contents read as follows:

‘Anais Fleur is a serious criminal who obtained financial benefits from Count Cesar of Rezaie through a sadistic relationship.’

‘Count Cesar, being a vulnerable person without proper experience, was exploited by Anais Fleur, who used his social status to extort massive profits…

Compared to what followed, even these words felt relatively tame.

The term “sadistic relationship” was one such phrase. Anais, who had always lived as a proper and virtuous noblewoman, couldn’t even grasp what it truly meant. But when she read the next line, she nearly fainted.

‘The two address each other in a master-servant relationship…’

Anais wanted nothing more than to drop to her knees in front of the magician and beg him to deny it.

But the word “master” had already come from the magician’s mouth, the most damning evidence of all. After a brief hesitation, he began explaining everything.

“…Yes. Miss Fleur told me to serve her as my master.”

What followed felt like torture for Anais.

The magician calmly and methodically revealed a series of details that could only be described as insane, all with a refined and composed demeanor.

“When I met my mast… I mean, Miss Fleur, it was right after I arrived in Riem.”

The magician began recalling the events.

“I was about to turn twenty…”

“What?”

Anais shot up from her seat.

“How old?”

“Twenty… years old.”

Anais trembled. There was no room left for politeness.

Nineteen was legally a minor under Belfast law. And if the accusations were true, then she and the magician were suspected of doing things that would be condemned with someone underage.

“You were nineteen then? What did you do with a nineteen-year-old? Aren’t you trash?”

Elliot gave her a heavy look.

“Miss Fleur would have been nineteen then, too.”

That was true… but still. Still!

Anais buried her face in her hands, her complexion turning pale. Cesar looked at her with sorrowful eyes.

“Disgusting, you say… Though society may see me that way…”

That’s right—it was his story too. Anais quickly apologized.

“…I’m sorry, Count, I didn’t mean…”

“That trash heap was quite cozy for me.”

…The magician didn’t deny he was trash.

Anais froze, too stunned to respond. Elliot cleared his throat. Cesar observed the mood and then spoke.

“May I continue?”

“…Please do. As thoroughly as necessary… though I’d rather not hear it, I suppose we must…”

Elliot replied reluctantly, his words trailing off. The magician clenched his fist, then resumed with a steady voice.

“Miss Fleur, since you’ve lost your memories, you probably don’t know much about me. Let me tell you a bit.

I’m the second prince of Rezaie. Ah, I’m sure you already know that. But you may not know why I came here. There are… circumstances.

It’s a little embarrassing to share this with Lord Resaloniki present, but what can we do?

My position in my homeland isn’t great. The First Princess and I have different mothers. There’s also a large age gap between us.

Unlike Belfast, Rezaie has different succession laws. The Princess is first in line for the throne.

Because of that, she dislikes me.

I realized early on I wasn’t suited for the throne. I declared I had no interest in succession. But those around me…

Ah, you probably don’t care about such petty stories. I’m sorry… No, apologizing is just a habit now.

Anyway, last year Rezaie was in turmoil. The Princess’s succession was firmly secured.

So I fled almost as a political exile. The Magic Guild I oversaw insisted I claim the throne, but I refused. Both my mother and the First Princess terrify me.

You can call me weak if you like. Ah, thank you.

The lords and nobles of Reims treated me kindly. Maybe too kindly. I struggled, everything felt so different from what I knew back home.

And then one day, while on break from Belfast, I saw someone who was starting a new trend in Reims.

Yes, Mast- no, it was Miss Fleur.

That new trend was none other than a business presentation.

Oh, Lord Resaloniki, why are you holding your forehead? Do you have a headache? Oh, you’re fine… Very well, I’ll continue.

As you know, the nobles are always looking for lucrative ventures. The education and printing businesses they’re involved in are stable, but they don’t yield huge profits.

At that time, Miss Fleur hosted a tea party. Right here, at this villa. She spoke about a business opportunity, the Diamond Association.

At first, I thought it involved investing in diamond mines. I was following along, but something felt off.

Why were emeralds valued higher than rubies? Emeralds are fragile.

Though they absorb magic well, when that magic fades… Ah, perhaps you’re not interested. My apologies.

What’s that? Lord Resaloniki’s sister is similar to me? Fascinating… She must be a remarkable woman. My Lord, why that look? Is your face itching? Oh my…

Anyway, the nobles consider it unsophisticated to scrutinize contracts too closely. Most signed immediately and handed them over to Miss Fleur.

But I, after all, am a prince of Rezaie and head of the Magic Guild.

Heirs to the throne are trained never to sign documents lightly.

So I carefully reviewed the contract while eating dessert.

To be honest, I didn’t fall for Miss Fleur at first sight.

Though I did find her beautiful from the very beginning…

Yes. Now that I think of it, those scars couldn’t have been from a mistake with another slave.

At one point, I wondered if my master had taken another slave… Ah, does that make you uncomfortable? I’ll stop.

Still, your eyes, oh, I’m sorry. Miss Fleur’s eyes are as beautiful as ever. They shine like magic infused emeralds.

In time, I’m sure you’ll return to your radiant self.

Of course, even now, master, ah, forgive me. Yes. I was talking about the business presentation.

When I saw Miss Fleur, I was reminded of my mother and the First Princess.

Not in appearance, but in presence.

They look nothing alike, but their personalities… Anyway, when the tea party died down and guests began chatting idly, I approached Miss Fleur.

She said she was bored and intended to stroll through the garden.

I followed her slowly through the hedge maze.

Honestly, I was scared to speak to her. As I turned a corner, she suddenly stood before me.

And she said:

‘Why are you following me around like a little rat?’

…Please don’t make that face, Miss Fleur. I wasn’t offended.

I quickly apologized, and you asked what I wanted.

I asked if the contract structure wasn’t one where losses were possible as well as profits.

You asked which noble family I belonged to. Since it’s unheard of to forget a guest’s status at a tea party, I asked if you truly didn’t know who I was.

I’ll never forget what you said.

‘Is this some kind of prince complex?’

Ah, Miss Fleur. Don’t worry. I’m not suffering from a complex, I really am a prince.

I was going to say Master… Um. May I call you Master again? No? I see…

It was strange.

From the moment I heard those words, my heart wouldn’t stop racing. It felt like the fear I felt before my mother and the First Princess but different, somehow.

I still remember that moment vividly.

The blue sky. The green leaves shimmering in the sun. A soft breeze. The golden afternoon light. And your green eyes, standing there in the garden maze. Is that all?

No. There was also your tone, so sharp, so lacking in deference. The look in your eyes that seemed ready to strike me if given the chance…

All of it struck me deeply.

My heart fluttered.