"You want to help... *me*?" I asked again, certain I must have misheard.
Why would the protagonist try to win the villain's favor? Perhaps he was grateful to me for saving Kanna?
"Yes. You. Specifically you," Gabriel replied, his gaze dropping to the floor.
*Is he... shy?*
No—not that! I just wanted to live peacefully! Why did I need any of this?! We had agreed to be rivals, competing for the heroine's heart. Well, *I* had made that agreement with myself... but still! It stung! First he'd looked at me like I was a ghost risen from the grave, and now *this*...
Gabriel's voice—which should have remained unperturbed even under a hail of blows—trembled slightly. This was definitely a sign. My extensive experience reading romance novels couldn't deceive me.
**_All was lost!_**
I had tried *so hard* to avoid becoming a proper villain, and now the male lead seemed to have fallen for me instead. What utter nonsense!
"What a fool I was! I didn't know my place!"
*Exactly.* I should have known my place. I had been far too careless about playing the villain role. But we'd only met *once*! Was he really so shallow? Although, if I thought about it, most characters in romance novels were attracted to beauty above all else.
Whatever the case, I had ruined everything. I'd thought I'd only stolen the heroine's affection, but it turned out I'd captured the main character's attention too.
Fine—it was a romance novel world. I understood that. But the problem was that my carefully crafted plan to escape the villain's fate—the one I'd spent two sleepless nights perfecting—was now worthless garbage. What was the point of all my scheming if the quickest and surest path to survival was simply becoming the heroine myself?
But I didn't *want* a relationship with the male lead! He was just a character in a book, and I was a real person!
"I'm not interested in you," I blurted out, giving in to the urge to get rid of him as quickly as possible.
*What a fool I am!* It seemed my subconscious was thirsting for love drama. Once the romance flag was planted, the more I tried to distance myself, the more desperately it would cling to me.
"Yes, I understand that the lady is not interested in... people," Gabriel answered, as if stating something self-evident.
*What kind of reaction was that?*
Shouldn't he have been indignant? Something like: "How *dare* you not be interested in me?!" And besides, the phrase "not interested in people" sounded distinctly strange.
But the strangest thing was how easily he'd accepted my rejection. Didn't he like me after all? Perhaps I was wrong? Then again, was he really so clueless? I'd read far too many reader comments criticizing characters who failed to recognize obvious romantic tension.
"But it doesn't matter," he continued. "I'm just... curious."
*There!* I knew it! My experience reading romance novels had never let me down!
Gabriel spoke these saccharine words with such a dispassionate air, as if it weren't blood but sugar syrup coursing through his veins. I shuddered internally. Though, since Evangeline herself apparently had the blood of a romance novel character running through her veins, these honeyed phrases didn't truly disgust me.
*Romance novels are terrifying.*
While I was trembling inside, Gabriel—as if taking pity on my overwhelmed state—changed the subject and returned to explaining his dreadful drawing.
The sight of the moth-creature brought back my peace of mind.
"This circle..." He tapped the paper thoughtfully. "Before they removed the body, we didn't understand it, but upon closer examination, it appears to be not a halo, but some kind of symbol."
Gabriel poked his finger at the moth-like curve and withdrew another sheet of paper from his coat. This one was torn... *why was he calling it a circle?*
Looking at the new drawing, I was stunned into silence.
*Oh my God! That's my summoning circle—the one Donau stole!*
I'd thought it had burned along with the house!
After this moment of shocked recognition, I noticed something strange. The drawing bore none of my original notes, and the paper itself looked fresh and new...
"This is the symbol I mentioned. I made a copy before burning the original marking on the floor."
*Ah.* Gabriel had drawn this too.
Wait. *He* drew this? But then why had his previous illustration been so terrible? Perhaps he was simply better at geometric patterns than organic figures?
I calmed myself and tried to concentrate. Gabriel's artistic abilities weren't the most important thing right now.
So this wasn't my original, but a copy of the circle Donau had painted on the floor. The true original had burned to ash. That meant I would never be able to cast the summoning spell properly. I'd already come to terms with the loss, and now suddenly this drawing appeared before me...
*So sad. Farewell, Spirit King...*
"Is this symbol clearly visible in the painting that artist made of Donau's body?" I asked.
"It's the same, though part of it is obscured by the corpse itself."
So someone was calmly spreading my secret method from another world to the general public. I was about to get angry at the unknown artist, but then reconsidered. Since the symbol was partially covered, and I hadn't succeeded in using it myself, I couldn't summon anything without the proper incantation anyway.
At this point, Gabriel seemed to have finished his explanation. He looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to speak.
I studied his annoyingly perfect face, then glanced at the summoning circle, and made my decision. I would tell him the truth.
*Of course, his beauty had absolutely nothing to do with it.*
"I didn't go to Donau's house because he kidnapped Kanna. He stole my drawing."
"This?" Gabriel held up the paper.
"Yes."
"My lady..." Hena turned to me with obvious concern in her voice.
*Don't worry! I'll explain everything.*
I needed to retrieve this drawing—or at least ensure it didn't become evidence against me. And feuding with Gabriel wasn't beneficial either. Since he was offering his assistance, all I could do was trust him and reveal the truth.
Besides, he'd apparently fallen in love with me, so it seemed unlikely he would betray my confidence. That actually made things *safer*.
"Please tell me what this symbol means," Gabriel requested.
"It's a summoning circle."
"And what does it summon?"
"Well..."
Of course I couldn't tell him about spirits directly—this world apparently didn't acknowledge their existence. I had to approach this creatively... Besides the fire spirit, what else could such a circle theoretically call forth?
What did the inhabitants of this world believe in? The Sun God Rachel? This was practically a sacred kingdom. There was no other option, so be it.
"It appears to summon... angels."
Gabriel studied me carefully, then nodded slowly.
*Did he seriously believe that?*
He didn't believe in Donau's divine blessing, but he accepted the concept of summoning angels? Was he truly ready to believe anything, so long as I was the one saying it?
*This was the level of gullibility befitting a romance novel protagonist!*
---
## — Through Gabriel's Eyes —
She was strikingly pale.
With her eyes closed, she could have been mistaken for a graceful marble statue. This unnatural whiteness of her skin—as if it separated Evangeline Rohanson from all that was mundane and mortal—made her resemble a ghostly apparition more than a living woman.
Her movements as she lifted the cup from the table and brought it to her lips seemed, at first glance, smooth and natural. Yet simultaneously, they felt unnaturally staged, as if choreographed for a theatrical performance no one else could see.
"...I want to help you," Gabriel finished.
At that precise moment, Evangeline Rohanson placed her cup back on its saucer. The sound of porcelain striking porcelain was sharp and careless, reflecting her mood. The tea within splashed violently, threatening to spill over the rim—then slowly settled back into stillness.
When the surface of the tea became smooth as glass, there was silence.
Everything around seemed frozen, afraid to move and upset some delicate, invisible balance. Birds stopped flying and plummeted like stones; flower petals, seeking shelter from an absent wind, curled back into protective buds.
The grand orchestra of life fell silent, and in the ensuing void, only the beating of Gabriel's heart could be heard.
"You... want to help *me*?" Evangeline asked, looking at him as if he were the most ridiculous creature in existence.
The moment she spoke, the world came alive again, flooding with discordant noise.
The clock's hands flickered and then resumed their normal rhythm, counting down seconds with a ticking sound that now seemed out of sync with Gabriel's heartbeat. The second hand appeared unusually slow. Gabriel soon realized it wasn't the clock's fault—it was his own heart, beating far too fast.
"Yes. You. Specifically you," he replied, struggling to force the words out. Each syllable emerged with tremendous difficulty, his breathing ragged and uneven.
"What a fool I was! I didn't know my place!" Evangeline whispered.
The light in the room couldn't have changed—the windows remained the same, the candles unlit in daylight—yet Gabriel felt as if the shadows had deepened somehow, and Evangeline's shadow stretched toward him like a dark blanket seeking to smother.
"I'm not interested in you," she said in a cold, contemptuous voice. Her previously indifferent eyes flared with sudden anger, and her lips twisted into something that might have been a smile—if smiles could wound. The veneer of feigned politeness vanished entirely, and her true feelings toward him—a mixture of contempt and irritation—became unmistakable.
Gabriel didn't argue.
Does a person even notice the ants scurrying through the grass beneath their feet? If they don't crush them, that's relief enough. Even if they accidentally trampled one, they wouldn't notice—and it wouldn't be their fault.
Evangeline was angry that this pathetic ant had dared to crawl into her house.
"I'm just... curious," he repeated quietly.
Even if this curiosity was fueled by negative emotions, Gabriel found himself grateful he had managed to rouse Evangeline Rohanson from her state of perfect indifference. It was like witnessing a miracle—seeing a flower suddenly bloom on a withered, dead tree.
Evangeline's anger seemed to spread to the table itself, which trembled as if responding to her emotions. The cups clinked against their saucers, threatening to topple. But just when it seemed the table might collapse entirely, the shaking ceased.
Evangeline resumed drinking her tea as if nothing had happened, though her crimson gaze never left Gabriel's face.
Fortunately, she wasn't prepared to drop her polite mask just yet. Seeing Evangeline calm herself, Hena—who had appeared on the verge of fainting—released a long, shaky breath of relief.
Gabriel continued his explanation of the drawing.
---
## — Departure —
Gabriel looked back at the Rohanson estate as his carriage waited at the gates.
Despite the bright, sunny day, the mansion appeared gloomy and foreboding—as if perpetual shadow clung to its walls regardless of the weather. Despite the considerable number of servants who surely worked within, an unnatural silence blanketed the grounds.
Only the vivid red cherry blossoms in the garden seemed truly alive against this lifeless backdrop. Gabriel stared intently at a white dress fluttering among the weeping branches of the enormous cherry tree—and at the bare feet dangling motionless below it.
"Commander, you're running late," came Rafaella's voice from the carriage. She followed the direction of his gaze and added, "What a magnificent tree! Do cherry blossoms ever grow that large?"
Rafaella was right—the tree was unusually tall and impossibly lush, its branches heavy with pink and white blooms that seemed to glow in the afternoon light. Gabriel found himself wondering what kind of fertilizer the groundskeepers used.
When he looked at the cherry blossoms again, the figure in the white dress was gone.
Had he imagined it? Perhaps he'd merely mistaken the hanging branches, laden with blossoms, for something more human.
Perhaps.
---