Chapter 21: I Absolutely Won’t Let You Leave

Rita lay on the soft bed, replaying the evening’s events.

After that, Cecilia had only hugged her briefly before pulling away, saying, “I’ll bathe myself,” and began applying lotions on her own.

Despite the earlier incident, no bigger storm followed. The bath palace affair was likely known only to Rita and Cecilia.

But a rift had formed, and Rita only half-understood why.

It was definitely tied to that cursed mark.

A mark only she could see, Cecilia’s unusual reaction… Rita knew the reason wasn’t simple.

Her own situation wasn’t looking great either.

But she couldn’t untangle so many complications at once.

The sensation of Cecilia nestled in her arms, her small chest pressing and deforming against Rita’s, dominated her thoughts. Closing her eyes, that lingering feeling resurfaced.

She had to admit, the mix of Cecilia’s strength and softness was as charming as the keyboardist in the band next door.

Though used to her body, bathing with another, wiping their skin, and hugging them wetly was a first. Rita’s brain was nearly fried.

Wait, it’s same-sex now.

Her gender perception as a succubus hadn’t fully shifted.

Rita rolled over, flexing her fingers, recalling the feel of massaging Cecilia’s body.

No, no—she was a beautiful girl now. She couldn’t think like that.

Forget it. Stop thinking. Take it one step at a time.

Rita fell asleep quickly, but Cecilia tossed and turned.

She questioned herself again, a question asked countless times, now heavier.

Was she really doing the right thing?

She’d stabilized Rita for now, but Cecilia still knew nothing about this mysterious girl.

At least, Rita showed no hostility, even showing concern—albeit driven by money.

The hug was a simple test. After that incident, Rita still followed orders.

And she seemed wary of Cecilia.

Cecilia didn’t think her status or power intimidated Rita. The only possibility was the mysterious curse on her body.

Though Rita acted clueless about the curse, Cecilia’s instincts told her it wasn’t an act, yet she couldn’t find another explanation.

After all, Rita was the only one she’d met who could fully see the curse.

Years ago, in the royal capital.

The bearded king frowned, his sharp eyes heavy with endless worry.

“Master Medwin, are you saying even you can’t handle this curse?”

The elderly mage, Medwin, bore fatigue and gloom in his wrinkles, no less than the king. His clear eyes, youthful for his age, studied the young Cecilia again, then he shook his head.

The king exhaled heavily, a growl in his throat. “You’re one of the kingdom’s most knowledgeable archmages. I’ll be blunt: I invited you here prepared to pay a price matching your stature.”

“Your Majesty,” Medwin sighed. “As you say, I wouldn’t travel this far to haggle over rewards. But…”

“Speak.” The king’s brow furrowed deeper.

“With my experience, I should easily identify this curse, but all I see are faint patterns. Forget breaking it—I can’t even discern its form or purpose.”

Medwin bowed his head, not out of shame to the king, but because his vast knowledge had been challenged.

“I need to know: when, where, and how did Her Highness receive this curse?”

The decisive king fell silent for a long moment. “If you knew, could you break it?”

“It would help, but I can’t guarantee how much, or if it can be broken,” Medwin replied.

“Then forget it.” The king shook his head.

“Your Majesty, tracing the source, even if it doesn’t break the curse, could reveal its structure. Given time, there might be a way.”

Medwin tried to persuade further, but seeing the king’s resolute expression, he knew the king understood but wouldn’t budge.

Protecting the Fourth Princess’s secret was more important than chasing a slim chance to break the curse.

“I understand.” Medwin sighed deeply, bowing respectfully. “Your Majesty, one final warning: this curse isn’t something humans can touch.”

The king countered, “You mean it’s a divine curse?”

“Heh.” Medwin gave a dry laugh. “If gods truly exist, Your Majesty might be right, but that’s not what I mean.”

“The further from humanity, the clearer the curse’s truth. If someone—no, something—can see its full form, without doubt, it’s utterly inhuman.”

Later, the king and Cecilia invited countless others to analyze the curse.

Most saw only vague mist. Some high-ranking archmages saw nothing. Those like Medwin, who recognized it as patterns, were rare.

Yet, some deranged mages saw it more clearly, confirming Medwin’s words: the less human, the better they understood.

But Rita, seemingly unconnected, saw the curse’s entirety and claimed ignorance.

Rather than a fortunate coincidence, Cecilia believed Rita was something inhuman in human guise.

Sane, logical, indistinguishable from a human.

But not too bright.

Yet, maybe—just maybe—Rita was Cecilia’s chance.

Even if Rita was inhuman, even if this was a dangerous gamble, it was worth trying.

From now on, Cecilia knew she absolutely wouldn’t let Rita leave her side.