Chapter 8
And now.
From the moment she opened her eyes as Ritia to how she ended up spending a night with Caliph, every memory rushed back at once, making her eyes tremble.
She was paying the full price for following her instincts.
“Looks like you remember.”
Caliph murmured softly, his lips still touching her hand. His eyes curved lazily, filled with heat. Ritia’s face—no, her entire body—was flushed red.
“Ugh.”
Caliph removed the hand covering his mouth and bit into the soft flesh of her palm. Then, as if leaning on her hand, he tilted his head and pressed his cheek against it.
His attitude was clearly different from yesterday. Rather, it was like that of a lover just beginning a romance. At the same time, there was a sense of greed, as if he might devour her at any moment.
What on earth happened last night?
Her throat still felt rough, and her body didn’t feel like her own. On top of that, too many memories were flooding back at once—she needed time to sort them out. But the man who had her trapped between his arms didn’t seem likely to let her go easily.
“So.”
“……”
When Ritia slowly raised her eyes, their gazes met again. Every time their eyes met, her whole body tingled. It felt as if all her nerves were reacting to his gaze alone.
“You’re really going to leave just like that?”
“……”
“Without keeping your promise? You’re not saying you’ll abandon me, are you? That’s not what you said yesterday. And…”
Your clothes must all be torn.
At Caliph’s muttering, Ritia turned her head sharply, her face burning as she searched for her clothes. There was no dress—only scraps of fabric scattered across the floor. Torn into pieces, impossible to wear. Completely ruined beyond repair.
“…Ah.”
Rather than wearing those shredded remains, it would be better to wrap herself in a bedsheet. And even when she tried to get up, she couldn’t push him away—he was simply too big.
Even if they had touched each other while drunk last night, right now everything felt far too exposed. Neither of them was wearing anything. Completely naked.
In the end, unable to endure the embarrassment, Ritia squeezed her eyes shut and spoke.
“…I’m not leaving right away. You get that, right? So could you please move for now? You’re too close. L-let’s get dressed first and talk properly. Decently. Like normal people.”
They had slept together, yet somehow he seemed to be the only one completely fine. That thought made her feel unfairly emotional. Still, she was practically trapped in his arms, making her look anything but composed.
“Okay. I will. As you wish.”
As the weight pressing her down disappeared, Ritia hurriedly tried to sit up. But the moment she stood with the sheet wrapped around her body, her legs gave out and she collapsed back down.
“Ah.”
Her face burned hot. She had no strength in her legs—they were shaking too badly to stand. Ritia, who had tried to act proud and dignified, froze in place, her ears turning red.
“Sorry. I should’ve helped you.”
Seeing her small shoulders stiffen, Caliph laughed softly. Even as he picked her up and laid her back on the bed, Ritia could do nothing but cover her face with both hands.
“Move your hands.”
“No.”
“Let me see your face.”
How could someone change this much in just one night?
The man she had met yesterday was dangerously captivating. Even while talking, he had held the upper hand, and Ritia had instinctively accepted it. She didn’t know why—but even before getting drunk. Yet now, he was making requests that bordered on pleading, acting unusually gentle and intimate.
Nothing felt familiar.
Was this normal? After spending a night together?
How would she know—she’d never done this before!
Ritia screamed inwardly, her thoughts in chaos.
He carefully set her down on the bed and spoke.
“So where were you trying to go?”
“…Home.”
Caliph raised one eyebrow.
“You still haven’t told me your name. You want to go back?”
“……”
“If you tell me, I’ll escort you home safely.”
His words were tempting, like coaxing a child with candy. Ritia’s mouth went dry. Now that she thought about it, she remembered him asking her name last night too.
Even while drunk and doing something reckless, he had been thorough about that.
Maybe she should just tell him. He was famous anyway—hiding it would be pointless.
“…Ritia.”
Caliph tilted his head.
“No, not that.”
“Then what?”
Still wrapped in the sheet, Ritia asked as if she didn’t understand.
“Your real name.”
Ritia pressed her lips tightly together.
How did he know?
‘No one knows that I’m not the original owner of this body.’
It hadn’t even been long enough for anyone to find out. Come to think of it, his questions had been strange since yesterday.
Even as Ritia stayed silent, he simply looked at her with interest.
Had she touched something she shouldn’t have?
“…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She replied, pretending ignorance.
He looked her over carefully, then let out a light laugh.
“Well, fine. We can figure it out slowly, over time.”
Over time. She felt a pang of guilt, but Ritia had no intention of continuing this one-night connection. She clearly remembered that she had made the first move—but she didn’t want to make this disaster any bigger.
She murmured, trying to stop him.
“…Um, I’m sorry, but could we pretend last night never happened? Of course, I’m grateful that you helped me, showed me a nice view, and drank with me. This is an excuse, but I had a lot bottled up yesterday… We probably won’t see each other again, but I felt I should at least thank you.”
Without waiting for an answer, Ritia gathered her strength and tried to stand again. She needed to leave as soon as possible. Her legs were still trembling.
Seeing how unsteady she looked, Caliph immediately wrapped an arm around her waist and sat her back down on the bed.
“You’ll get hurt. Was I really that bad last night? I doubt it.”
He asked in a tone that clearly rejected the idea.
“That’s not it!”
“Then what is it?”
“…We only met yesterday anyway. So…”
“Then let’s keep meeting.”
“…What if I don’t want to?”
“Why? You said you’d take responsibility yesterday. I want to.”
“Th-that was… I was drunk. It was the alcohol talking. I don’t want that.”
“Ah, the alcohol.”
“Yes… And why are you the only one speaking casually?”
He’d been using informal speech the whole time—actually, since yesterday. Because of that, she felt like she couldn’t gain the upper hand, which irritated her.
“Pfft! If it bothers you, do it too. You were good at it yesterday.”
He burst out laughing and answered casually.
That only made her more annoyed. Ritia pouted and glared at him.
As she continued to endure his deep gaze, the pain in her left shoulder returned.
“…It hurts.”
Why did her shoulder hurt so much?
She frowned as the pain intensified.
“I was wondering how long you’d endure it.”
He bent down and pressed his lips to her shoulder as he spoke. His hand gently brushed over it, warmth spreading through her body.
“What? Endure what?”
“Then how about this?”
“…?”
Ritia tensed up, wary.
“You’ll come looking for me again anyway.”
Because you’ll need me.
As the pain faded, his trap-like gaze fixed on her again.
“…What do you mean by that?”
“You said it yesterday. That it couldn’t be undone. That you’d take responsibility.”
“……”
She knew. She’d even said she didn’t mind.
Ritia wanted to bite her tongue.
“If you don’t come looking for me, I’ll pretend it never happened.”
“Really?”
Unlike before, when he clearly didn’t want to let her go, the condition he offered was surprisingly simple. She hadn’t planned on looking for him anyway—and he’d suggested it first.
“But.”
“But?”
“If you do come looking for me…”
Ritia swallowed.
“Then you’ll have to take responsibility for what you said.”
Take responsibility. Handle him.
She thought for a moment. No matter how she looked at it, it seemed like she would win this game.
“…Until when?”
“How long should it be? If you say one day, I’ll decide.”
If it were just one day, he’d probably cancel the deal. Too long, and she’d be at a disadvantage.
“…O-okay. One week.”
“One week?”
“Yes. One week.”
“Fine. One week. If you come looking for me, I win.”
“And if I don’t by then, I win. Now take me home.”
Despite that, he kept smiling easily, which irritated her.
“Before that.”
“What now?”
“My name.”
“……”
Ritia pressed her lips together.
“Say it again. If you’re going to look for me, you should at least remember my name, right?”
Then I’ll take you home.
Caliph coaxed her gently.
After hesitating, Ritia finally opened her mouth.
“…Caliph.”
His smile spread dazzlingly.
That was how it happened.
Just as he said, she returned home safely. Strangely enough, her father, Duke Mont, seemed completely unaware that Ritia had disappeared midway through the night. Just how powerful of a mage was he?
Ah—come to think of it, were there mages in this world? There was light, darkness, and even a saintess, so she had assumed mages existed too. If they didn’t, that would be unsettling… Either way, she should first understand this world properly.
Thankfully, last night passed without issue. She just needed to be more careful from now on.
She would bury yesterday in the past.
As Ritia sank into thought, the door clicked open.
