Chapter 91

Clang.

When I opened the door, the dormitory was empty. Isis had gone to the Hwanwon Shrine with the Summer Kingdom followers to perform a seasonal rite.

Everyone here had a main job they couldn’t escape—emperor, saint, designer, knight, chef, café owner… the list went on.

Me? I got swept up in the Demon King quest and overworked, but my original class had no job at all.

Just a peaceful, stay-at-home type.

Once I returned home, I could go back to that life.

My eyes stung.
Time to return to my main occupation (?)

I’d packed yesterday, but the Summer Kingdom officials took my luggage for inspection—probably to make sure I wasn’t smuggling out any royal artifacts. They said they’d notify me once the check was done.

Once it was cleared, I’d use a scroll and head straight back. Probably the last time I’d get to use scrolls like water. My free-spending days were over.

Living for a month and a half among the continent’s richest had done a number on my budgeting instincts. It’d take a while to break the habit.

I sat on the bed, brushing the rose petals in my hand.

Golden sunlight spilled into the room like the beginning of sunset, drowsy and warm. My fingertips felt heavy, like the light itself was weighing them down.

Should I have said goodbye to Alex?

We were colleagues, technically. He’d helped me more than once. My mind kept trying to justify it, but my body wouldn’t move.

Then, a long shadow stretched across the floor.

“……”

Only one person would barge into a Young-ae’s room without knocking.

Alex leaned his arms against the round window frame, staring in with his usual nonchalance.

“I was going to wait,” he said, not hiding his disappointment. “But I figured you weren’t coming.”

His gaze fell to my hands. The corners of his lips curled faintly.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a byproduct of your ability,” I muttered.

So much for figuring out how to say goodbye. At least we had a topic now.

“You gave it to me. I thought maybe you were happy I was cleared of the false accusation.”

Alex’s smile didn’t waver. He pushed off the windowsill, haloed in the red light—

And then, in a blink—

Saaah.

The rose in my hand vanished.

A whole house evaporated in seconds.

“Your Highness!”

I shouted reflexively. That flower was worth the price of a house!

I shook the blue silk desperately, trying to deny reality. Only a sliver of wood fell to the floor, no trace of the rose remaining.

“Did you really destroy it?!”

Whatever guilt I’d felt vanished, replaced with rage.

Alex looked completely unfazed.

“Don’t be mad. I just moved it. Didn’t want your hands to be heavy on the way back.”

“What?! You’re not even coming to Spring Kingdom!”

“Take me with you?”

“When did I say that?!”

Alex tilted his head like he’d heard something entirely different.

“People hear what they want to hear.”

“You’re the only one who does that.”

“Then let’s just say I’m the only one.”

“Why are you—”

“Are you listening?” he interrupted.

I stopped mid-sentence, recognizing that tone.

Then, softly, he added:

“Because I want to hear you.”

I turned toward the window instead of answering. There was a lacquered box nearby. I opened it, pulled out a leather envelope, and hesitated.

Then I handed it to him.

“A gift.”

“What is it?”

“A farewell gift.”

I’d prepared one for everyone. For Diana, I’d copied the “Demon Language Interpretation” buff. For Isis, “Fire-Resistant Powder.” For the Three and Four Swords, sword ornaments. The eunuch got a fancy hat. Kiska’s young lady received a lucky charm for her new business.

The others got small, thoughtful things.

And Alex… this.

He opened the envelope. Inside was a scroll, wrapped in red silk, with a poem written in three-stroke brushwork.

He had liked the poem I performed at the competition—so much that he tried to buy the original from the emperor. There’d even been rumors that Treasury officials were swayed by the outrageous price he offered.

I never confirmed that.

But considering it was a Yoon Dong-ju masterpiece in my hand, plus my own calligraphy buff, I guess the collector in him couldn’t resist.

Alex had a deep urge to collect things.

The books, the demon clan artifacts—he was no casual fan.

And only a true fan would understand another.

So I wrote the poem again, this time on a scroll, using my buff.

I hadn’t had the courage to give it to him directly. I’d planned to have a palace attendant deliver it.

But maybe this was better.

Maybe this was exactly the way it should be.