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A Fairytale for Wizards (Published Novel) - Chapter 10 - A Wizard from the Capital
Chapter 10 - A Wizard from the Capital
This chapter is updated by NovelFree.ml
“You just received these?” Maylie gasped, barely managing to calm herself. “From who? For what reason?”
“I don’t know,” Azriel tried to explain her encounter with Rhema. “I had never met him before. He was a wizard named Rhema Reshith. I was at the bookstore…”
Maylie rolled her eyes, “Could that wizard have fallen in love with you at first sight?”
“That’s nonsense. It didn’t feel that way.”
“He gave you this exorbitant gift. That can’t be meaningless!”
Azriel let out a low sigh and closed the box’s lid, “In any case, I absolutely can’t sell this.”
“Why? This was given to you as a gift anyway!”
“This is too much. I’m afraid of the aftermath.”
There were different kinds of gifts, but this was more extreme than she expected. Azriel decided to find the wizard by any means and return the shoes. Maylie had a regretful look on her face, but she also agreed with Azriel’s judgment.
“Well, right. You might get in trouble for accepting this. Then, how are you going to make up for the shortfall…?”
“I can manage it somehow. Don’t worry.”
“Somehow? Do you have a plan?”
“I have something in mind, so don’t worry about me and go to sleep now. You know tomorrow is going to be a busy day, too, because of the guest.”
“You are sure, right? You need to let me know if there’s anything I can do, okay?”
“Okay, I will.”
“All right. Good night, Azriel!”
“Good night to you, too, Maylie. Thanks for the pie and bread.”
Maylie peeked outside to check if there was anyone around before quietly returning to her room. After bidding goodbye to her, Azriel glared at the box she had placed on a pile of straw. She thought about the pale wizard with a straight face and the look of embarrassment that had briefly appeared as if his mask had been broken. The feeling of deja vu…
‘Did I meet him during the time in my life I can’t recall? Can he be the one who named me…? No, I told myself I wouldn’t expect that person to return anymore.’
Azriel put a stop to her thoughts before they could take root. She emptied her mind and pulled out the book she received from the bookstore today. Even though she had told Maylie not to worry about her, she had not come up with a specific solution yet. She had to hurry and quickly raise the money she needed to run away. She set about transcribing Lemm into Limble until it was deep into the night when she finally fell asleep.
*
The next day, a wizard from Modjankle, the capital city, arrived at Colte Castle. Since the morning, the entire castle had been busy preparing a banquet to welcome him. Deborah would be attending the banquet, so there were no classes scheduled for her today. Though Azriel, as her whipping child, was given a reprieve from working in that capacity, she was, of course, not allowed to rest.
“Hurry up! What are you staring at? Hey, you! Wipe this again!”
Azriel ran errands for the kitchen, which currently resembled a battleground. Because of how busy everyone was, she did not even notice that the chief maid had been missing all day.
“Hey, take this to the banquet hall! Give this to the wizard! Be quick!”
A maid pushed a tray carrying a new napkin towards Azriel before running off to attend to someone else calling her. Azriel stopped wiping the cups she had been cleaning to take the tray and left the kitchen. The entire castle was boisterous except for the banquet hall. Only the sounds of soft chatter and the occasional clinking of tableware were heard. She took a deep breath and opened the door to the banquet hall. An orchestra was playing next to a long table laden with various, fancy dishes. The musicians had originally been hired to serenade the diners, but their hands were now off their instruments because the guest had said they were too noisy. Thus, awkward silence surrounded the hall.
The wizard did not remove his hood even though he was indoors and focused only on eating quietly. Chubby Count Colte kept wiping his sweat with his handkerchief. Damon Colte was cutting his steak into pieces with a frown. Deborah Colte narrowly managed to muster a smile with the corners of her mouth twitching.
Only Countess Colte, with a fake smile, began a conversation with the wizard, “Mr. Tarbo Tameion, I heard you are a member of Aurora. How wonderful. Of course, someone like you can also use great magic, right? Like the wizards of legend…”
“Do you even know what Aurora is?” the wizard snapped at her with phlegm in his throat.
“I do,” the countess replied feebly, embarrassed. “Isn’t Aurora a social club for remarkable wizards? It’s a place where people like you, Mr. Tameion, get together and form friendly relations…”
“Of course,” Tarbo smirked and lowered his head toward his bowl, “you have no idea.”
The Countess’s face reddened and an awkward silence befell the hall again. Still holding the tray, Azriel studied the atmosphere. The butler, who was dressed in a tailcoat, stood at the entrance and noticed her. He squinted his eyes after scanning her attire, which was untidy from working.
“How dare you lowly being walk into the banquet hall with such filthy attire! Give it to me. I’ll do it.”
He reached his hand out with annoyance. Even though he spoke quietly, the wizard heard him since the rest of the hall was quiet. The hooded wizard quickly eyed the entrance. He had initially overlooked Azriel passing her tray to the butler and hastily turned his head toward her. Tarbo Tameion glared at her as she was about to leave after bowing to the butler. His shaggy, brown beard—the only part of him visible beneath his hood—was trembling.
Before Azriel could close the door behind her, he abruptly cried out, “Wait!”
All the banquet hall’s occupants were surprised. Azriel, as well, was startled as she looked back.
“You,” Tarbo gazed at her with sharp eyes and gestured, “come over here.”
Azriel hesitated for a moment before approaching him. When Tarbo removed his hood, a horrible burn scar covering his entire face appeared. Deborah was about to scream but managed to swallow it at her mother’s dissuasion. Azriel also flinched a little at the sight. Tarbo did not care for the others’ reactions and stared at Azriel with a piercing glare—especially her eyes.
After a moment of silence, he asked, “Who are you?”
