I could tell without asking what he wanted to test.
For me, who can freely use magic as long as I have mana, it meant that I now had mana I could use immediately.
But it was also the first time for Dorian to pull someone else’s mana. Could I really use the mana inside me?
I hesitated, my confidence waning. I asked,
“How do you feel your own mana?”
Dorian rubbed his chin at my question, looking uncertain.
“Feeling mana is close to instinct, so it’s hard to explain. How about focusing on yourself, like when you drew my mana?”
I took his advice, lacing my fingers and closing my eyes, concentrating as much as I could in my solar plexus.
I hoped to feel something, but all I felt was a tightness in my chest.
Would I feel something if I kept trying? I tried to imagine something like the surging mana of the Duke, but it felt like nothing but empty darkness.
As I continued concentrating, trying to sense something, I felt someone’s presence.
“Excuse me.”
It was Eva’s voice, coming from outside the greenhouse while Dorian and I were eating. I opened my eyes.
Eva was looking at us from a slight distance with a cautious expression.
“What is it?”
Dorian’s voice was sharp. Apparently, our conversation had made him tense.
Sure enough, Eva’s face went pale.
I quickly smiled and spoke gently,
“It must be something urgent. What is it, Eva?”
“Well… Master Lewin is asking when his mother will arrive.”
Ah, I had completely forgotten.
Feeling a mix of guilt and embarrassment, I looked at Dorian.
“He said he’s going to see her because of riding practice today.”
“Lewin must be excited,” Dorian said with a smile. The tense atmosphere immediately relaxed. Eva, seeing this, continued speaking with relief.
“Yes! He practiced hard, and now it’s break time, but he insists on riding again. Hartman is having trouble stopping him.”
Eva chattered in her bright voice. I wondered about the name I had also heard this morning.
“Who is this Hartman?”
Dorian answered my question.
“Sir Hartman is the second son of the Müller family, vassals to our Brecht Duke family.”
“The second son of a viscount?”
“Yes. He serves as the deputy commander of the knight order.”
Being a second son, unless his family had extensive lands, he would typically marry into another noble family or become a gentry. Yet he had become deputy commander in the Duke’s household. He seemed clever and more ambitious than expected.
I tried to remember if the name Hartman had appeared in the original story while keeping a neutral expression.
“He seems close to Eva.”
“Yes! How did you know? Hartman and I have been childhood friends. It’s good for vassal families to get along.”
Eva’s eyes sparkled as she spoke. I could tell she didn’t use any honorifics with Hartman… but if I mentioned that, it would embarrass her, so I kept silent.
“I see. Still, he must be young to rise to deputy commander already.”
“He is imperfect, but he can use aura. He is an important talent in the Duke’s household. Without that, he couldn’t have become deputy commander.”
Dorian answered my follow-up question, fidgeting slightly with his hands. I remembered seeing him swinging a sword alone in the training grounds before. I asked him,
“Dorian, can you use aura too?”
In most fantasy novels, aura and mana are similar but distinct powers… I wondered if it was the same in this story.
Bingo. Dorian’s ears turned red at my question. So he couldn’t use it.
Sure enough, Dorian said in a quieter voice than before,
“I haven’t trained enough to handle it yet.”
I felt a twinge of guilt; I hadn’t realized he’d be embarrassed even though he had such abundant mana.
Fortunately, Eva defended him.
“But the Duke fights almost equally with Hartman! Every time, Hartman is amazed. He says he doesn’t understand how the Duke executes such clean, perfect sword stances.”
Fighting someone skilled in aura without using aura yourself? That was even more impressive. I nodded in agreement with Eva.
“Impressive! You don’t need aura at all?”
“No, not completely. You still need aura to fly your sword techniques,” Dorian said, shaking his head. I felt a bit disappointed.
“Is there no way to control mana like aura?”
“You could if you used a magic sword, but magic swords are hard to obtain.”
Magic swords are ancient magical tools, of which only three have been unearthed. I accepted this explanation quickly.
“I see. Then why doesn’t anyone try to replicate or research their production?”
“There are few who can wield the mana required for a magic sword. Aura can be developed through training. By the way, Ms. Rohela, we’ve arrived.”
I looked up at Dorian’s words. In the small courtyard surrounded by a low fence, Lewin rode a foal, his dark hair tousled by the wind.
Seeing the foal, I rubbed my eyes instinctively.
“A black horse?”
From afar came a light, cheerful young man’s voice.
“It’s the Cleary breed, a specialty horse of Dunwordy. Its black color often makes people misunderstand it as fierce, but it’s actually gentle and loyal.”
I turned to see a man approaching us, honey-blond hair and bright teal eyes.
“Hartman!”
Eva called out, waving her hand enthusiastically. The young man called Hartman waved back energetically.
“You’re late! Master is already sulking. Look, he hasn’t even come near!”
Hartman whispered in a lower voice, pointing to Lewin. Sure enough, Lewin continued pacing slowly along the opposite side of the fence, ignoring us.
“I wouldn’t be late if I didn’t want to! Watch your words—you should refrain from scolding your master as a vassal!”
It seemed he was blaming us for being late… which was true. I awkwardly scratched my cheek.
“I thought Lewin would ride a white horse, so I’m surprised it’s a black one.”
“At first he insisted on a white horse, but the previous Duke gifted him Roti, this foal’s name, for safety. He immediately fell in love. His insistence on a white horse was just to ride the same type as the Duke,” Hartman explained with a bittersweet expression.
The same emotion crossed Dorian and Eva’s faces, but they quickly erased it.
It’s been two years since Lewin became mute… The accident must have happened shortly after the gift. There’s no need to ask.
I changed the subject.
“So if it’s the same type, Dorian rides a white horse?”
Hartman’s eyes widened, and Eva nudged him. He quickly replied,
“Yes, yes. That’s right.”
Apparently, calling Dorian by name had flustered him. I felt a bit embarrassed but seeing Dorian and Eva calm, I collected myself.
“Of course, the Duke’s horse is a famous one. Legend says one of the ancestors had a Kelpie.”
“A Kelpie? The water horse fairy? The one that drowns and devours people…?”
“Yes, they swim well but have a terrible temper.”
At that moment, Eva stepped inside the fence and accidentally stepped on Hartman’s foot.
“Ouch!”
“What kind of language is that in front of the Duke!”
She probably whispered, but everyone heard. Childhood friends indeed; they were really close.
I glanced at Dorian. He seemed unbothered, like this wasn’t the first time.
“Anyway, it looks beautiful. Its coat is always glossy, as if wet, and pure white. Even when it rolls in mud, it stays white.”
I expected Dorian to ride a dark horse, given his black hair and red eyes, but it was surprising. Well, a Kelpie’s bloodline fits that dark image.
Had Dorian ridden a horse in the original story? I vaguely remembered it, probably a black horse…
A wave of discomfort ran through me. I didn’t want to think about it anymore. My stomach churned.
I nodded silently, raising my hand instead of speaking further.
“Lewin!”
Lewin stopped at my call. A small child on a foal—perfect for a storybook illustration.
“Can I go to Lewin?”
“Yes, of course… Ma’am!”
Hartman shouted urgently, but I was faster.
I carefully gathered my dress to avoid tearing it and jumped over the low fence that reached my thighs.
Then I waved to Lewin again.
“Mom’s here!”
The wind swept through the short grass, and Lewin glanced back at me.
I ran to him quickly.
“Mom will be there soon!”
Lewin turned to face me, but at that moment, an unexpected gust of wind swept through.
Dry leaves in the green grass were lifted, and I instinctively closed my eyes.
“No!”
Eva’s scream came from behind.
