Even If You Tear Me Apart - Chapter 18
The chapters are split like this so that the TL can update more consistently over time (✿ ＞◡❛)
She waved her arms furiously and pointed down the far bank of the river.
“There’s a path through the water that only I know!”
Before Ezekiel could say anything, the girl turned and began running in that direction.
With the river between them, Étienne and Ezekiel had no choice but to run along the opposite bank, following her.
Since there was no way to physically stop her from their side, they could only chase after and yell in hopes of deterring her.
“Stop! Your life is precious!”
“Hey! Got a spare life? If so, donate one to me! Mine’s expensive, I’d love to have two!”
Despite Ezekiel’s desperate shouting and Étienne’s unclear mix of joke and plea, the girl ran quite a distance and finally descended to the riverside near some brambles.
There, she took a deep breath and stepped into the surging current—gripping a vine that hung over the brambles with her right hand.
“Wait—!”
“Don’t do it!”
Ezekiel shouted in alarm with all his strength.
Entering that raging current barefoot? She had to be completely mad.
But he soon noticed that the vine she held was worn by many hands—the kind of wear that suggested people had used it to cross the river multiple times.
And the silver-haired girl skillfully cut through the current. As she drew closer, her calm expression became more visible.
At last, soaked through, she reached their side.
“You— Miss! Are you crazy?!”
As she emerged, Étienne—who had aged several decades in just the past few minutes—rushed over and began scolding her, only to blush furiously and avert his gaze.
Ezekiel, who had run up with him, instinctively turned away as well.
Up close, the girl appeared to be a little younger than them—about their age—but having stepped into the water wearing only a thin shift, her appearance was catastrophic for the two young men.
Yet she didn’t seem fazed in the least.
In fact, she casually wiped the moisture from her skin with the back of her hand and offered a sheepish apology.
“I must’ve startled you, sorry. This path is only known to our villagers, so it’s impossible for outsiders to cross on their own…”
“Gah! And you think an apology is enough? I don’t know which house’s crazy daughter you are, but thanks to you, I lost ten years off my life just now…”
“Brother.”
Ezekiel cut Étienne off and stepped forward, quickly removing his cloak and offering it to the girl.
His eyes were averted slightly from her. The girl raised her hands in protest.
“Oh, I’m fine, really…”
“When we said we needed to enter Quilluxia, we didn’t mean we would force our way through an impassable path.”
The girl, who had been about to decline the cloak, flinched at the weight of his words.
She was meeting the boy before her for the first time.
But even in a first meeting, there are things one can intuit immediately.
His voice was composed, his movements calm.
His stature and height could easily be called noble and dignified—but rather than ‘dignified’, he was simply beautiful.
A boy who had likely never once not been beautiful since the day he was born.
And at the same time, she could tell that this beautiful boy was, from head to toe, absolutely furious.
What she’d done had indeed been dangerous. If her father had been present, he would have gone into a rage for sure.
But her father wasn’t here.
So, the girl decided to use a small trick to keep the man from scolding her.
“My name is Iris Quilluxia.”
The man’s mouth snapped shut. Étienne’s, on the other hand, dropped open.
“Oh, so you’re the crazy daughter of a noble house…”
Iris had to try very hard not to laugh.
***
Following the girl who introduced herself as Iris, the two crossed the river.
The vine she had secured guided them safely to the village.
And so, at last, they were able to dry their hair by a warm fire in the village.
More precisely, at the entrance to the village—in the ‘lord’s manor’.
If it could even be called a manor.
“If I lived in a house like this, I’d write to ask for a tax exemption too.”
Étienne muttered as he wiped off water and dried his shirt.
And he wasn’t wrong. The place they’d entered was astonishingly run-down.
Though clearly well maintained, it was still so small that calling it a manor felt generous.
But instead of agreeing, Ezekiel offered him a warning.
“Brother. Please be mindful of your words.”
