Secret Love Affair between a Former Saint and a Dark Hero - Chapter 43
Clearly, there was nobody on the terrace, but this voice responding—what in the world could it be? Startled, Iora quickly turned my head, only to find someone sitting casually over the railing.
“What? A ghost?”
“A ghost?”
“Wh-who, who are you?”
“This well-built figure as a ghost? That’s ridiculous! Where would you find such a friendly ghost?”
The blunt yet languidly unique voice felt strangely familiar. When the moon, partially hidden by the clouds, emerged again, what she saw first were bare feet glowing white.
‘Somehow those feet look familiar…’
As she pondered, the man stroked his chin and laughed like the wind.
“You weren’t just sitting here sobbing all by yourself. Seeing you desperately running away, I followed. Why were you so heartbroken, girl?”
That man!
Iora’s eyes widened like they were about to burst.
Observing her reaction, the man raised an eyebrow, looking displeased as he muttered, “What’s with that reaction? Have you already forgotten my name so quickly? Your memory seems worse than a goldfish’s. Do I have to tell you my name again, you scared little squirrel?”
The mischievous voice belonged to the antagonist of this novel. It was Vigros, the troublemaker who had asked her for an apology.
“Why… why are you here?”
“Oh, so the girl owns this terrace now? I had no idea there was an owner for the terrace.”
Iora was taken aback by his slightly disheveled black hair. The faintly curving blue irises seemed like gems in the darkness—they were somewhat unnerving.
“I-I’m not a girl. You know my name…”
Where did he come from? Could there be a tree here too? As she glanced around, he chuckled, shaking his shoulders.
Then, with a sweet and soothing voice, he whispered, waving his fingers, “Still, that’s one good thing about you. You kept your promise.”
“What promi… ah.”
“I was curious whether you’d run away or stand still as soon as you saw me.”
His voice was so strange. Iora slowly rubbed her ears. Vigros’s voice was so sweet; it felt like dizzying honey was clinging to her ears.
“Since you kept your promise not to run away, should I give you a reward?”
“A reward?”
It was unexpected, just like before. As she squinted and stared, Vigros raised an eyebrow, wagging his finger slowly.
“Iora, what would you like as a birthday present?”
“Birthday… present?”
“Why are you so surprised?”
She was truly taken aback. The words that came out of his mouth were something she couldn’t have imagined.
“It’s your birthday, and this is your celebration, isn’t it? The belle of the ball should receive a generous birthday gift. That’s when you’re supposed to rip things open and plunder, even from distant cousins and in-laws.”
It was a questionable way to go through life, but Iora slowly pursed her lips. A birthday present. Yes, that’s right. Birthdays come with congratulations and gifts.
‘I never got one.’
She didn’t remember ever receiving a birthday gift, not even after she became Iora. She had never heard those words: thank you for being born.
“But first, congratulations are in order. Happy birthday, Iora.”
The man casually exclaimed and clapped his hands, but Iora’s vision blurred with hot tears.
She heard Vigros murmur, filled with a sense of melancholy. “Why do you cry every time you see me? Do you hate me so much that you want to leave right now?”
“No, please, don’t go!”
It seemed like he could disappear as quickly as he had appeared. So she hurriedly scrambled up and found herself in an unexpected situation. A chilly silence passed between Vigros and Iora.
“I didn’t realize. Did you really want to touch my feet that bad?”
“Eek! Feet!”
She was in such a hurry that she grabbed his white bare foot. Iora screamed, and Vigros burst out laughing. His laughter echoed embarrassingly loud in the quiet terrace.
‘There’s no need to laugh that much!’
In addition to that, Vigros wiggled his foot like a spring breeze.
“Why are you freaking out like you touched a monster? My feet are as clean as a fairy’s. Do you know how carefully I maintain them? Always kept immaculate and smooth. Go ahead, touch them all you want. It’s your birthday, so I’ll allow it. Touch it.”
“No, I don’t want to. Please put it away.”
If touching his feet was a birthday gift, she’d refuse it a hundred times. What a weird guy!
Frustrated, she saw him grin again. He hops down from the railing, and mysteriously conjures a pair of black shoes. She tried recalling what kind of abilities Vigros’s had in <The Saint’s Flower>, but she couldn’t get a close enough look to discern what kind of magic that was.
Approaching her, the man stopped and slowly tilted his head.
“Are you hungry, girl?”
“What?”
She did feel a bit peckish, but what he said didn’t seem to imply that. It felt like the person who had been playing around just moments ago had disappeared. Those piercing eyes were strangely cold and intimidating.
Iora could see why everyone had warned her that he was a nightmare to be feared and avoided.
