If her memory served her right, the haughty, crimson-eyed wizard with sunset-red hair standing before her must be Seton, Master of the Northern Tower. And the gentle-looking blonde with green eyes beside him must be the Deputy Tower Master.
Realizing who stood before her made Ione feel as though she could fly.
“It’s simple to explain: enchanting the seal onto someone is a complex ritual—it requires two magicians.”
These were my enchanters. With them, I’d be safe. And frankly… they look prosperous, not ragged. Nobility in humble clothing.
Her admiration surged so strongly, she interrupted Helena before being formally introduced.
“Is there anything you still need?”
“Excuse me—who are you?”
Expecting to hear, “
The enchanter arrived
,” Ione blushed at Seten’s pointed question but managed a gentle smile.
“It’s lovely to—”
“Who is this woman?”
“Eh?”
“When she smiles… it’s creepy.”
At Seten’s shiver, Helena and Ione both stiffened.
…He doesn’t like me, does he?
“Are you insulting the Grand Duchess?”
“Insulting who?”
“The Grand Duchess, obviously!”
Helena hissed her reprimand—and Seton sprang up, bowing so low his nose nearly touched his knees.
“My deepest apologies, Grand Duchess.”
“Oh, no—it was my excitement that made me rude.”
“Rude?! I completely misunderstood your joyous smile. I must have seemed like a lunatic…”
“Enough!”
Helena cut him off, visibly furious.
“Where do you think this is, and how dare you speak to Her Grace that way?”
“What?”
Seten’s expression instantly turned frosty, as though he’d switched personalities entirely.
The charming, whiny man who asked for a drink had vanished—it was impossible to believe it was the same person.
“Regardless of who you are, this is clear: you treated the Grand Duchess disrespectfully. As head maid, I cannot allow that!”
“I already apologized.”
“If that counts as an apology, you can save it—and we’ll mention this to His Grace formally…”
Ione never interfered in quarrels—but if Seton left without engraving the seal because of offense, what would she do? They were clearly inclined to dislike her.
“Please calm—”
Just as Ione tried to step in, the Deputy Tower Master lunged forward, pulling Seton behind him.
“I’m sorry, Grand Duchess! He hasn’t slept for days—he’ll be himself once he rests. Please forgive him!”
“But… I am fine.”
“Oh please stop!”
The three voices echoed in the hall—Seton, the Deputy, Helena. Ione felt dizzy.
Though Seten’s behavior had been hurtful, she realized he truly was worn down after days without rest. Perhaps this was the path laid out for her in the story.
Understanding that, her upset faded.
She smiled warmly at the three of them.
“Thank you both for your hard work. Please go rest.”
Seton, who had raged moments earlier, fell silent. His expression softened—though he abruptly exited, so she couldn’t be sure.
“I’ll go with you! Oh dear—my apologies, Grand Duchess, but perhaps you should retire for today…”
The Deputy floundered, but Ione smiled reassuringly.
“Rest well. If you need anything, just ask.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
He took a breath so deep it was clear the relief, and Ione nodded. The two magicians departed, the door closing smoothly behind them—and she felt sudden exhaustion.
“It feels like the storm has passed.”
Ione slumped onto the sofa.
“Forgive me, Grand Duchess. I organized this suddenly, not knowing Seton’s condition… I shouldn’t have sprung this upon you so abruptly.”
“Please—it wasn’t needed. You did this because of a tiny needle crawler in the salad, didn’t you?”
Helena only looked away awkwardly, silent.
“Thank you—for caring.”
“It was nothing more than my duty.”
“It shouldn’t be assumed.”
Helena shook her head, but Ione stared her down.
Someday, in the North, I will receive that seal. And in the meantime, Helena is working so hard to make sure it happens—and ease my worry.
She
shouldn’t
have to feel like that’s just normal.
“Thank you.”
In that moment, her voice trembled—grateful that someone extended kindness in this hostile world. Helena couldn’t brush it off this time.
Later that night…
When the door closed behind the magicians, Seton’s expression completely changed.
He strode across the icy grounds, every bit the aloof and arcane Northern Tower Master.
“…House Master and enchanters, we said: go rest.”
He wondered: was this enough to excuse his earlier insult? Or was he truly so oblivious that he didn’t recognize his offense?
With heavy footsteps, he paused and spoke aloud:
“Ione Clarke…”
The next afternoon…
In the drawing room with large windows, Ione sat across from Seton, who looked almost like a different person—clean, proper, and radiant in a white shirt, trousers, and thick robe.
His rose-toned hair gleamed; his ruby eyes sparkled. His fair skin and sculpted features were strikingly beautiful.
“You asked to see me?”
Ione ventured.
“I requested your company for tea,”
he answered softly and skillfully.
His gentle smile left Ione dazed.
What on earth was happening?
Seton, please—allow Helena to stay.
It’s unusual for the head maid to sit with the Tower Master.
But Helena, this is no ordinary maid—and you asked for my company alone.
Wouldn’t you need someone to serve tea?
Helena, thank you—for caring so deeply.
She glanced sideways at Helena’s quiet embarrassment. Somehow, the entire situation felt surreal.
“Would you like one of Agatha’s ginger cookies? She made them just for you.”
Ione offered a cookie. The warm, spicy aroma was delightful, and the flavor generous—no stinginess in ingredients.
“Serve Seton-sama the ginger cookie
.”
Helena had prepared precious leaf tea—almost as valuable as gold—along with cookies tailored to Seten’s taste.
At the tea table, Ione swallowed a breath.
This wasn’t supposed to be like this… Helena’s devotion felt overwhelming.