"Why the hell do you keep calling Sumr?" he had grumbled so many tis.
And every single ti, she had just smiled, her eyes full of mischief.
"Because you’re like sumr—warm, bright, and impossible to ignore."
She could still see the way he’d run a frustrated hand through his hair, shaking his head like she was the worst na-giver in history. But he never truly hated it. She knew that.
And now, seeing it here, carved into stone, she felt like she was suffocating.
Her hands clenched into fists.
He had never told anyone else about that na. No one.
Yet, here it was.
That could only an one thing.
Es knew.
Not just in passing. Not as so acquaintance.
She was close. Too close.
And suddenly, she understood.
The friend he always talked about. The child he used to ntion with such fondness.
It was Es.
His dearest friend.
A cold realization settled over her.
If she couldn’t take revenge on that so-called organization herself—if she had to hold back because of her Sumr—
Then she would make sure Es did.
She had already set things in motion. Es didn’t even know it, but the pieces had been placed right under her feet.
The whispers. The secrets. The information that kept finding its way to Es.
It was all because of her.
Because if she couldn’t destroy them—
Then she would make sure Es would.
Back in the present, the woman lifted her gaze, locking eyes with Es.
"You know everything, huh?" she asked, her voice steady but laced with sothing unspoken.
Es rely tilted her head, a slow smirk forming. Then, with a breathy chuckle, she scoffed, "Pfft. Really? Do you think you’re so kind of secret spy? That you could hide from , and I wouldn’t find you?"
The woman didn’t flinch, her expression unreadable as she watched Es carefully. After a beat, she spoke again, her tone almost testing.
Es, unbothered, ran a hand through her hair, as if this entire conversation was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.
"The mont you stepped foot near his grave," she said, her voice quieter now, yet carrying an undeniable weight, "I knew."
Es’s smirk didn’t waver as she crossed her arms, her gaze unwavering.
"You know, Sumr—" she corrected herself with a small chuckle, "I an, your husband—he told once that he had a really pretty wife and a fairy-like child." She exhaled slowly, tilting her head. "So, when I saw you standing at his grave, well... it wasn’t exactly rocket science to figure out who you were."
The woman’s expression didn’t change, but Es could see the way her fingers tensed slightly at her sides.
"And after that?" Es continued, "You ca back. Every five to seven days. Thinking no one was watching. Thinking you were alone. Do you really believe I’d leave my friend’s grave unguarded?"
The woman’s gaze flickered, her eyes searching Es’s face.
Es let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "I know what you’re thinking. ’I checked the area, there were no living people there.’ Right?" She shrugged. "Well, let ask you this—do you really think that in this world, with this level of technology, I’d need to send people to watch over him?"
She paused, then nodded toward the grave just behind the woman.
"If you had just turned around," Es said, voice almost playful, "you would have seen the na engraved there—’Es Valhalle.’ And yet, here I am, very much alive. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?"
The woman’s breath hitched, but Es simply leaned in slightly, dropping the final revelation with a knowing glint in her eyes.
"That grave? I put a small cara and mic inside it." She tapped the side of her temple. "So yeah, of course, I knew exactly what you were doing. From the very first day."
The woman threw her head back and burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the quiet space. She lifted a hand to cover her mouth, shaking slightly as she tried to regain her composure. When she finally lowered her hand, her gaze t Es’s, sharp and knowing.
"You are really sothing, huh?" she mused, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Now I understand why my Sumr gave you his na."
At those words, Es’s expression remained unreadable. She didn’t flinch, didn’t react. She simply watched.
The woman took that as an invitation to continue.
"I used to wonder," she admitted, tilting her head, "Why would he give you his na? What was so special about you? But now, seeing you like this, I understand."
She narrowed her eyes slightly, leaning forward just a fraction. "So, you knew what I was doing all along and still took my help?"
Es’s lips curled into a slow, amused smile. She shrugged.
"Well, what can we do?" she said, voice light, almost teasing. "If soone hands you free lollipops without asking for anything in return, wouldn’t you take them?"
The woman’s smile widened, eyes gleaming with intrigue. "Ha! If you had just told you knew everything from the start, I wouldn’t have dragged out this little act for so long."
And then, with a snap of her fingers, the air around her shifted. The divine aura that had surrounded her lted away, vanishing like mist in the morning sun. Her eyes, once holding an otherworldly glint, returned to sothing more human—calm, observant, and undeniably sharp.
Slowly, she stood, stretching her arms as if shaking off an old disguise. "Much better," she murmured, rolling her shoulders before looking back at Es with a curious gaze. "Now, let’s see what happens next, shall we?"
Es stood tall, her gaze sharp and unwavering as she took a step forward.
"Let see the manuscript." Her voice was calm, yet it carried a weight that pressed against the air between them. "Listen, I don’t care about your excuses. I don’t care why you failed to avenge your husband, and I sure as hell don’t want to hear whatever history you have with that organization. But what I do care about—" her eyes darkened, "—is that you dared to invade my privacy."
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