The Cursed Beast Caught My Leash - Chapter 56

“You’ll fall.”

He wasn’t trying to grab her; it was just that seeing her skirts flutter as she hurried up the steps made him fear she might trip.

Stella, instead of replying, panted as she climbed the stairs. After hearing such strange things, she found it hard to meet Islay’s eyes.

The fact that he had so smoothly acted like they were a married couple had surprised her, but even more bewildering was the card reading that predicted they would have children. Two of them, at that. It felt more unrealistic than the prophecy saying she was the key to lifting Peruno’s curse.

She had only had milk, but her head was spinning. As she struggled to calm her racing heart, they reached the fourth floor.

The dim ceiling light flickered over the empty hallway. Stella took a moment to catch her breath in front of the door, then turned around. Islay was already looking down at her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to see the fireworks?”

His voice was soft. Without hesitation, Stella nodded.

“I’m fine. …Um.”

They stood in the inn’s hallway, each in front of their rooms. It was unmistakably time to say goodnight. Stella hesitated before continuing the conversation.

“It was sudden, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.”

“Playing the married couple?”

“Oh, uh, all of it, really. Especially the card reading….”

“I enjoyed it too.”

Islay responded lightly. Stella rolled her eyes playfully and noticed that there was no sound from beyond her room’s door.

“It seems Dora is still outside.”

“Probably. Looks like Mikel is keeping her company.”

The distant noise of the bustling tavern sounded like it belonged to another world. Reality settled back in, and Stella blinked, then spoke again, “I’m sorry for not thanking you sooner.”

“What else do you feel grateful for?”

“You could have stayed in your usual lodgings, but you came to this inn for my comfort. Thanks to that, I could eat, bathe, and… rest comfortably.”

“You don’t need to thank me for every little thing, Estella. You had no reason to help me in the first place.”

“Which means I don’t have to adapt to your needs either.”

His eyes, shaded by the light behind him, looked dark. The playfulness he’d shown during the card reading was completely gone from his expression.

“I know you brought me here because I’m useful, but that doesn’t mean—”

“I don’t like hearing that.”

“Pardon?”

“You shouldn’t use the word ‘useful’ for a person. You’re not a tool.”

…He wasn’t wrong. Stella nodded absentmindedly, her head hanging low. His cold demeanor softened somewhat.

For a moment, Stella had the illusion that Islay might reach out to her, or lean closer. The memory of his warmth was etched so vividly in her mind.

But Islay didn’t close the distance. In fact, apart from helping her in and out of the carriage, he hadn’t touched her since that day. It was as though he had already made up his mind, back at the tower, not to touch her again.

Did he regret that night? I meant it when I said I wouldn’t regret it, no matter how much time passed.

Standing at her door, Stella looked into Islay’s eyes.

“Goodnight, Estella.”

Even after hearing his gentle parting words, Stella didn’t turn away. There was an odd sense of déjà vu tugging at her. It was the same feeling she’d had when she first learned that Islay spent every night alone, locked in the tower.

Listening to the sound of her heart pounding, Stella spoke, as if entranced, “Islay, we made a promise, remember?”

“A promise?”

“You said you’d teach me to carve. Could you… show me now?”

Islay looked down at her with a faint smile. It wasn’t that he had forgotten their promise; rather, his expression seemed to ask if she was serious, approaching him like this in the middle of the night.

But Stella didn’t back down.

“I’m not sleepy yet, and I have a lot on my mind tonight. Stay with me.”

“Didn’t I wish you goodnight and give you warm milk?”

“…Can’t you?”

Stella ignored Islay’s patronizing tone, as if he were talking to a child, and continued, “I think it might help… if I learn to whittle away at something when I can’t sleep or when I need to clear my thoughts.”

The delicate sculptures she’d seen in his room had felt like the byproducts of thoughts gnawing at him. Stella, too, had spent much of her time in isolation, struggling to shake off a pervasive melancholy. If she didn’t, it would cling to her until it nearly strangled her.

Various thoughts flitted through her mind, but the clearest one was simple: she wanted to be with Islay.

The carving was just an excuse. Stella wanted to share something with him. She wanted to spend time with the man who must have struggled to breathe, trapped alone with no one around.

“…Come here.”

Breaking the silence, Islay turned and led the way. He meant for her to follow him to his room. Stella steadied her wildly beating heart and followed.

***

As soon as they entered, Islay lit a fire in the unused fireplace. He added enough logs to keep it from going out quickly, then shut the window to keep out the cool night air. Only then did he glance back at her.

Stella’s eyes sparkled as she took in the room. It was not much different from her own, yet she examined it with interest.

Islay silently watched the woman who had entered his space for the second time. Why did she keep inching closer, saying things that made it hard for him to push her away?

No, he didn’t need to know her reasons, nor was Estella at fault. She was much younger than him and had little experience dealing with people. If her curiosity led her to approach him like a kitten, Islay could simply refuse her.

And yet, he didn’t push her away, perhaps because he knew this time would never come again. He found himself wanting more without even realizing it.

But Islay knew he couldn’t let himself go further. He could only trust his own restraint, once again.

He let out a quiet sigh. Stella, who had been inspecting the modest room, was now lingering by his cloak hanging on the coat rack. It almost looked like she was trying to sniff it, which was so ridiculous that Islay felt as if he were bringing a stray puppy home for the first time.

“Stop wandering around and have a seat.”

“Okay.”

When he pulled out a chair in front of the large table, Stella obediently came over and sat down.

Islay took out a small block of wood he’d recently been carrying with him and placed it on the table. It was a type of olive wood, not easy to come by in the north, and he’d brought it along after roughly shaping it. It was already smooth, without any sharp edges, so she shouldn’t have much trouble working with it.

…Seeing Stella’s eager eyes, he had to admit he wasn’t entirely confident. How could someone who’d boldly asked a man to spend the night with her still have such an innocent look?

Perhaps it was just his own heart that was dark. Letting out a quiet sigh, Islay tapped the piece of wood he’d placed on the table. Stella, sitting quietly, was the first to ask.

“What kind of wood is this?”

“Olive wood. Watch closely.”

Standing beside her, leaning against the table, Islay took a pocketknife out of his pocket. With one hand, he held the block of wood, its grain clearly visible, and shaved off a long strip.

Stella watched his movements, her clear golden eyes shining with fascination, like an eager student.

“You push outward like this. If you’re not used to controlling your strength, keeping the blade angled inward could hurt you.”

“Got it.”

Stella’s shoulders rose slightly, as if she couldn’t wait to try it. After demonstrating a few more times, Islay handed her the knife and wood.

“Be careful.”

“Yes. What should I carve first? Personally… hmm, I’d like to make a small, egg-shaped ball. Or maybe a gem shape, like a diamond.”

“Estella, you’re a beginner, so you should start by learning how to use the knife.”

“Well… you’re right, even though it’s a bit disappointing.”

Stella, whose grand ambitions were pointed out, obediently nodded. Isley lowered his gaze to the carving tools she was holding.

“Okay, now try. Hold the wood steady with your left hand, and with your right hand, grip the knife, but only use the strength of your thumb.”

“Like this?”

“Yeah. Try carving outward now.”

Her small hands began to fidget with the wood and knife, but the once nimble hands that decorated flowers seemed clumsy at the task.

“Outward. The blade is coming towards your chest.”

“How about now?”

Despite his correction, her awkward movements remained unchanged. Isley, watching her, stepped closer and reached out, guiding her misplaced fingers into the correct position.