After a month-long journey, we finally returned to the underground city of Doomheim.
To me, who had been shivering in the cold, it almost felt like coming home.
The warmth of the city’s smelting furnaces and the rhythmic clang of hammers echoed through the air, creating a comforting atmosphere.
Harglan, resting his hammer on his shoulder, turned toward the heart of Magmar along with his dwarf subordinates.
“This is where we part ways. Get some rest, Princess. Ferca, you’d better explain yourself properly to Harglan.”
“Ugh, I really don’t want to go back...”
“If you do what you want, you also have to take responsibility. Stop whining like a child.”
For once, Harglan sided with Torvar, scolding Ferca with a stern tone.
Pouting like a child, Ferca hung her head.
Even as Harglan walked away, he didn’t forget to shoot me a glare.
We headed straight home without any detours.
Torvar wasn’t there.
“Father spends most of the day at the forge. He won’t be back until nightfall.”
It was a sacred duty passed down to the Meister, the Flamekeeper, to ensure the furnace’s flame never died out—no matter what.
Even when I lived in Doomheim, Torvar never missed a single day of work.
“Well, we need to unpack and recover from the trip anyway. Let’s rest until he gets back.”
We sorted out our belongings and had a simple meal.
Without bothering each other, we each relaxed in our own ways.
The sound of hammering echoed from the forge.
It reminded me of a child trembling nervously after being told by their mother, “We’ll talk when you get home.”
Ferca probably felt the same way—
Restless and anxious about facing Torvar once he returned from work.
She was likely hammering metal to clear her mind.
Meanwhile—
Ashies sat curled up on the sofa, hugging her knees and staring at me.
Whenever I moved my head, her gaze followed.
When I changed my position, she shifted as well, always settling directly across from me.
Her pale blue eyes, wide and curious, never wavered.
“...What is it?”
“...What?”
“You’ve been staring at me this whole time.”
“...Don’t... like it?”
“Well, not exactly...”
With such a beautiful girl staring at me, it was hard to complain.
Just looking at her felt like a treat for my eyes.
Still, her sudden behavior was puzzling.
“I just... wanted to look at you...?”
“...”
I was stunned into silence.
Of all people, Ashies had said something like that?
Did women instinctively know how to captivate men, even when they lacked memories and emotions?
‘What a dangerous woman.’
With that face and those words, it felt like cheating.
But I doubted she meant it that way.
It was probably closer to imprinting—like a newborn chick seeing someone and deciding they were its parent.
I chose not to dwell on it.
Torvar returned home late at night, after the city’s glowstones dimmed to a soft navy blue and the hammering stopped.
“It feels like it’s been ages, old man. Has anything happened while we were gone?”
“No. It was so peaceful without you noisy brats around, it felt like a vacation.”
Despite our sudden reappearance after a month, Torvar didn’t seem surprised.
He just cracked a joke, as if he had already guessed we’d be back.
With the lights still on late at night, it wasn’t hard to imagine him thinking, ‘Those troublemakers are finally back.’
As his gaze swept over each of us, it stopped at Ferca.
Unlike with the rest of us, his eyes lingered on her.
“So, after getting kidnapped, you still haven’t learned your lesson? Couldn’t even sit still for a moment without running off without permission?”
“Well, you never would’ve given me permission anyway! If you had, I wouldn’t have had to sneak out!”
Ferca fired back, full of defiance.
But judging by how she quickly lowered her gaze to the floor, there was at least a hint of guilt in her.
It was the same look children give their parents when they know they’re in trouble.
If I had to guess, she was probably analyzing the floor pattern to avoid looking him in the eye.
Torvar let out a long, heavy sigh, staring at her with a complicated expression before turning to me.
“The item I asked for—did you bring it?”
“Of course.”
I handed the lazulite to Torvar, who raised it toward the glowing lightstones embedded in the ceiling.
“This is unmistakably lazulite,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “And the purity is exceptionally high. I’ve never seen such a high-quality lazulite in my life. To think you managed to acquire something like this...”
“Just lucky, I guess,” I replied.
“...Indeed. Very lucky. With lazulite of this caliber, it will undoubtedly help control the Princess’s frost aura. What form do you want it in?”
“I’m thinking of a pendant.”
Torvar nodded in approval, as if agreeing with my choice.
A pendant was ideal for controlling Ashies’ frost aura since it would rest close to her heart. In the original story, the lazulite was also crafted into a pendant automatically upon its retrieval.
“Understood. Coincidentally, I already had a pendant design in mind. I’ll let you know once the gem’s crafting is complete.”
“Thank you. And there’s one more thing I’d like to request.”
I handed him the music box.
Torvar studied it curiously, his eyes scanning its intricate design.
“This is... a music box. Remarkably well-crafted. Where did you find it?”
“It was inside the belly of a beast called the Crystal Serpent. A treasure of the old kingdom.”
I activated the music box, and a grating noise filled the room.
“It’s broken. Judging by the look of it, you want me to repair it?”
“Correct. It’s something my girl has been desperately hoping for.”
At the mention of “my girl,” Torvar’s gaze shifted to Ashies.
“Torvar... Can you... fix it?” she asked.
“...You’ve changed,” Torvar muttered, studying her closely. “Something must’ve happened while you were out there.”
“Maybe...?”
As expected of one of the seven dwarves, Torvar immediately sensed the shift in Ashies.
Helping a princess was practically a given for dwarves, so without hesitation, Torvar accepted her request.
“Alright. I’ll fix this, too.”
“Can you... really?”
“Of course. There’s no decorative item in this world that I can’t repair. I’ll make it good as new.”
“Thank you...”
Watching the two converse, I casually turned to Ferca, who was standing a step behind me, and dangled a comment she’d love to bite on.
“That’s what I’d expect from a Meister blacksmith. Don’t you think so, Miss Ferca? You seemed hesitant to trust him before.”
“...Considering everything that’s happened recently, I wasn’t sure, but Karami, you’re seriously annoying. It’s not right to poke at people’s weaknesses.”
“A merchant should do it as a matter of habit. When you press someone’s weak spot, they’ll jump and reveal an even bigger one. You should try it sometime, Miss Ferca.”
“Karami, do you realize how much of a jerk you’re being right now?”
“Miss Ferca’s scolding. It’s a rare delicacy. Thank you for the meal.”
“...You’re a perverted merchant.”
*****
“Try it on, and let me know if anything feels off.”
The next day, Torvar returned with the finished pendant.
Its design perfectly matched the Frost Heart—a game item—featuring a harmonious blend of blue and white with a lazulite gemstone embedded at its center.
“Alright. Sit down and turn around.”
Standing behind Ashies, who was seated on the sofa, Karami carefully lifted her silky, pale blue-and-white hair to reveal her slender, snow-white nape.
It was the kind of delicate neck that could stir desire while embodying purity.
With utmost care, he clasped the pendant around her neck.
And then—
A faint blue glow surrounded Ashies before fading away.
The change was immediate.
The freezing aura she constantly emitted noticeably weakened.
Before, approaching Ashies required layering clothes for insulation, and touching her skin was impossible without special equipment crafted by dwarves.
If her presence had once felt like dry ice, now it was merely cold, like regular ice.
It was manageable—comfortable enough for daily life.
“How do you feel, Miss Ashies? Does anything feel different?”
“...”
Without speaking, Ashies examined her body and surroundings.
She moved around the room, brushing her fingers over various objects.
This time, her touch didn’t freeze them solid.
Instead, it lingered softly, leaving no damage behind.
The cold that once radiated from her body no longer felt oppressive.
For the first time, Ashies felt warmth.
It was faint, but it greeted her like an unfamiliar visitor.
It wasn’t unpleasant—
It felt like a forgotten memory resurfacing.
Something buried deep in her chest stirred, as if a dormant sensation had come alive.
Ashies clutched the pendant tightly.
As she remembered the woman who gave her this gemstone, her grip unconsciously strengthened.
“It seems to be working well,” Karami said.
“It does. That’s a relief.”
Nodding in satisfaction, Torvar handed over another item—the /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ repaired music box.
“It’s fixed already?”
“It wasn’t that complicated.”
Karami couldn’t hide his surprise.
He had only given the music box to Torvar the day before, and now it was already restored.
It was impressive—so much so that, despite being a man, Karami briefly considered whether this dwarf might be worth keeping as a servant.
“Perfect timing. Miss Ashies, let’s go up to your room.”
“...Huh?”
“Aren’t you curious? About this music box and its story?”
Even Darka, who had asked them to retrieve it, had forgotten what the music box truly was.
But Karami knew.
He knew its secret.
And Ashies didn’t hesitate to respond.
The source of this c𝓸ntent is freewebnøvel.coɱ.
“I’m curious.”
She wanted to hear it.
She wanted to know.
It felt like she had to.
“Alright then,” Karami said with a smile.
“Let’s listen. To the song the music box plays—and the story it tells.”