“Did you meet Rianel at the banquet yesterday?”
“Now that I think about it, I did see him briefly yesterday. Turns out Rianel is actually the Grand Duke of Rahinzel.”
“...That’s true.”
As soon as Ahwin responded, Lucas burst in as if he’d been holding back.
“‘True,’ you say? Do you have any idea how shocked I was? I couldn’t sleep a wink all night because of the sheer impact! If I had known Lord Rianel was the Grand Duke, I would’ve arranged a treaty between our territories long ago...! No, seriously, why was someone like the Grand Duke of Rahinzel in Halo Territory? Why? What’s the reason? Tell me!”
Lucas stared intently at Ahwin, looking as if he wanted to pull out his hair.
Ahwin coughed lightly and reached for a glass of water, suddenly seeming parched.
Lucas, his eyes dark and sunken, interrogated him further.
“Is there some other truth I need to know, Ahwin? Please tell me now before I’m blindsided by another shock later. I’ve spent all night preparing myself mentally.”
“Well, I...! There’s really...ahem...nothing much.”
“There is. Something big.”
Lucas’s voice was firm with conviction. Ahwin gulped down another sip of water.
Lucas crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, scanning Ahwin from head to toe.
It was as if Lucas had started piecing together Ahwin’s identity.
His godlike handsome face, his extraordinary magic skills, and the fact that he spoke so casually to someone as powerful as the Grand Duke of Rahinzel.
“If Ahwin’s true identity is who I think it is... No, that’s impossible. It can’t actually be him... Could it?”
Th𝗲 most uptodate novels are published on ƒгeewёbnovel.com.
Lucas’s voice trembled more and more as he spoke, growing thinner with each word.
Suddenly, his face turned pale, and he took a step back. He turned to Penelope, his eyes wide with alarm.
At the same time, fragments of the conversation he had with Penelope the previous night flashed through his mind.
“If I told you the truth, you’d probably demand to know why I told you at all, wouldn’t you?”
“...Is it really that serious?”
“It is.”
‘Miss Penelope, you didn’t tell me it would be this shocking!’
Lucas clutched the back of his neck, trying to steady himself, but his legs gave out, and he stumbled.
Startled, Penelope rose from her seat.
“Lucas, are you okay?”
“I’m... No, I’m not okay. Not even a little. May I go lie down in my room for a while?”
“Go ahead.”
As Penelope gave her permission, Lucas nodded weakly and trudged out of the dining room, his shoulders slumped as if carrying a massive weight.
‘Looks like Lucas has figured out Ahwin’s true identity. Well, it’s no surprise he’d be this shocked with the Tower Master standing right in front of him.’
The Tower Master’s mere existence maintained the balance of power across the continent.
A transcendent being who could topple mountains and reverse the flow of rivers. The master of Arksante, the Magic Tower that had upheld the continent’s equilibrium for a thousand years. The titles used to describe him were endless, and those who revered him were countless.
‘And I’ve been having him work for cheap in Halo all this time. Lucas is probably trembling in his room right now.’
Penelope, having absorbed some of the shock thanks to her knowledge of the original story, glanced at Ahwin out of the corner of her eye.
Sensing her gaze, Ahwin flinched and asked, “What? Why?”
“Don’t you have something to tell me?”
“If I told you, could you handle it?”
“Well... I think I’d have to think about that first.”
"Then postpone it. As much as you can, like you've been doing until now."
Penelope's eyes widened. She hadn’t expected Ahwin to notice something like that.
At that moment, Penelope realized something important.
‘Ahwin never actually tried to hide his identity. He just never outright said it.’
If Ahwin had wanted to conceal his identity, he wouldn’t have displayed his magic so openly. Yet, he casually cast high-level spells—ones that would make other wizards faint in shock—without a second thought.
‘Maybe he never even intended to deceive anyone in the first place.’
Suddenly, Ahwin stood up, placing a gentle hand on Penelope’s shoulder as he spoke.
“First, finish your meal. You skipped breakfast; aren’t you hungry?”
“There’s too much to think about. I don’t feel like eating.”
“Don’t say things like that when you’re not actually that bothered.”
“...Are you even really Ahwin?”
At Penelope’s skeptical question, Ahwin shrugged.
“Don’t I seem like I am? Now stop overthinking and sit down. You’re the one who always tells me to eat, even stuffing sweet potatoes in my mouth when I was lying down.”
“I wasn’t stuffing them in; I was letting you try them.”
“To me back then, that was traumatic enough.”
Penelope rubbed the back of her neck at Ahwin’s retort. Come to think of it, she had shoved a sweet potato into the Tower Master’s mouth before. Why did she even do that?
‘In any case, I should definitely keep that incident from Lucas.’
After a brief pause, Penelope sat back down.
‘What’s the point of worrying? If I skip meals, I’m the one who suffers. Might as well eat.’
Deciding to focus on her meal, Penelope picked up her fork and knife.
Ahwin smiled faintly.
‘I knew this would happen.’
From across the table, Ahwin leisurely watched Penelope flip through her salad with a fork. Her expression clearly showed that she didn’t care about his true identity in the slightest.
Ever since she first saw his magic, she had been amazed and fascinated, but never fearful.
Even when he had taken her to the top of the magic tower, she was afraid of falling but had still gazed in awe at the vast northern forest, her eyes sparkling like starlight.
Ahwin couldn’t help but be impressed.
Not even the late emperor or Elizabeth had reacted to his power without fear. Fear was a natural instinct for humans when faced with overwhelming force.
‘But for her to not even be fazed by Rianel’s identity...’
It was an unexpected variable.
Lowering his gaze, Ahwin lightly tapped the table with his fingertips. A bubbling irritation boiled up inside him, as if flames had suddenly ignited.
‘Something must have happened between Penelope and Rianel at the imperial banquet. But what?’
A wave of intense displeasure swept over him. He had never considered the possibility of Rianel coming between them.
‘That sly fox... Should I kill him if he meddles again?’
There had been several opportunities for Ahwin to kill Rianel before, but the aftermath of eliminating the ruler of the vast northern territory would have been too troublesome. For that reason, Ahwin had let him be.
With a faint sigh of regret, Ahwin smacked his lips.
Just then, the sound of carriage wheels echoed faintly from the distant Verbel Street. The carriage rolled forward at a painfully slow pace before stopping in front of Ahwin’s house.
‘Another useless messenger, I assume.’
It was the thirty-fifth one today alone.
The flood of gifts nobles sent to Penelope could all be traced back to Elizabeth’s influence.
‘What is she scheming?’
Even when Ahwin had been close to Elizabeth, he had known she wasn’t someone who brought purely positive change to others.
Though her reasons for favoring Penelope remained unclear, Ahwin was certain she intended to use her for some purpose.
‘Ignoring my warnings, are we?’
Elizabeth still seemed to think of Ahwin as the fool who would play dead at her command. How convenient for her.
If she didn’t understand the implications of provoking someone under the protection of the Tower Master, Ahwin would have to educate her.
As he observed Penelope finishing her meal, the sound of the messenger knocking on the door reached his ears.
When Penelope’s meal was nearly finished, the butler entered the dining room. Ahwin, as if he had been expecting the interruption, wore an irritated expression.
The butler hesitated under Ahwin’s gaze but eventually spoke.
“A messenger has arrived from the imperial palace.”
“From the palace?”
“Yes. Her Majesty the Empress has sent a card for Miss Penelope.”
The butler handed over an envelope that was luxurious at first glance. Penelope carefully accepted it.
She glanced at Ahwin, who was watching her closely, and cautiously opened the bottom of the envelope with her fingertips. Inside was a pristine white card.
To her surprise, the handwriting matched the invitation she had received last time.