Who Could Have Loved the Monster Princess? - Chapter 55

Tonight’s dinner would be at Ken’s place.

The ingredients, as always, came from the mountain and his own little field.

He’d gathered a bit of everything — wild herbs, root vegetables, and the like — filling his straw hat to the brim. Just as he was heading back, Ken stopped mid-step.

“…What’s that guy doing here.”

“Hmm?”

Ken spoke abruptly, to the empty air.

“Got no business here, so why don’t you head back?”

“…Huh?”

I turned in the direction Ken was looking, but there was no one. Still, he went on talking.

“What kind of debt would I owe him, exactly.”

His tone had turned sharp — sharper than I was used to. I couldn’t wait for the conversation to end before cutting in.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Hah. Thought you weren’t the type to go blabbing every little thing.”

Ken didn’t look at me. He kept staring at the empty space, the one where nothing stood but the faint outline of his roof.

I followed his gaze again. Still nothing. Only the slope of his roofline catching the evening light.

With a sigh, Ken finally turned to me.

“Who told you I released a wraith?”

“Uh… Dad.”

“So the cultist defended me?”

By “cultist,” Ken meant Sean.

“He sort of implied one of the candidates for Lord of Bittern might’ve done it.”

Come to think of it, the direction Sean had pointed when giving his vague explanation had been toward Ken’s cabin. And he had said something like, “I believe it was one of the participants,” with just enough uncertainty to leave room for doubt.

“Come to think of it, ‘defended’ might be overstating it…”

I was still speaking when suddenly the corn parted, and Sean’s pink head popped out.

“Darling!”

“Wha—Sean?!”

So he was the one Ken had been talking to. Figures. Neither of them operated on normal senses. Whatever range they were communicating across, it clearly didn’t include mine.

“Did Call exactly say, ‘Ken released the wraith’?”

“Technically, he said, ‘Ken’s the one who shattered the mana stone.’”

“If it was Cal, he would’ve destroyed the shard the moment he saw it.”

“You’re telling me Cal saw the shard and didn’t destroy it right away? Used a tracking spell instead?”

These two knew my dad far too well.

“As you both said, Dad did destroy the shard the moment he saw it. Apparently it was forged to block the Demon King’s curse. And since it was the High Priest who sealed the wraith inside it, only the owner could actually break it.”

Sean fell silent, and Ken, clearly annoyed, muttered in his direction.

“If you heard all that, leave.”

“Why?”

It was my question, but Ken just clicked his tongue. I looked at Sean, hoping for some clue as to what Ken’s problem was, but he was smiling brightly, which told me absolutely nothing.

“I simply wished to share a meal with the Hero again. It’s been a while. I didn’t expect to see you here, Darling.”

“You two eat dinner together?”

Without me? I supposed it made sense. I’d been busy, and the two of them were apparently living their best post-retirement lives, but it still stung more than I expected.

“Yes. From time to time.”

“Is your ‘from time to time’ measured in five-year intervals?”

“Are you Unknown? That level of nitpicking hardly suits a Hero.”

“And what about you? Talking like you’ve been alive for 150 years. Who’s the Unknown now?”

It really had been five years.

Unknown — that ancient sage who’d helped the three of them defeat the Demon King — was the one they were comparing each other to. He ruled the Sage’s City, and he also happened to be Mir’s teacher.

‘Five years… Wouldn’t that be since the end of the war?’

The timing struck me as odd, but I didn’t press. Instead, I shoved the two of them forward.

“I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”

Only then did they stop bickering and start walking.

‘Back during the war, I thought they had decent camaraderie…’

I couldn’t remember exactly when things started turning sour between them, but maybe it didn’t matter. After the war, all the heroes had grown distant in their own way.

‘Still, it’d be nice if we had more of these moments. Maybe they’d get close again.’

I felt a little guilty thinking it, but I was genuinely happy to see the three of us together like this. It reminded me of the old days — goofing off in the barracks, sharing stolen snacks and dumb jokes under candlelight.

I’d made new friends in the capital since then, sure, but none of them could compare.

We reached Ken’s house not long after.

As soon as we arrived, Ken went straight to prepping ingredients. Sean, on the other hand, moved around the kitchen like it was his own — pulling out utensils, lining up the tools he needed without a hint of hesitation.

I sat down at the dining table and waited for them.

‘Good thing I didn’t show up empty-handed.’

Cooking had never been my strong suit anyway — too precise, too delicate. I’d brought a top-tier dessert using my “head chef privilege,” so I figured they’d forgive me for skipping out on the labor.

Even back during the war, when the three of us shared the occasional meal, I was usually the odd one out in the kitchen.

‘Not once every five years, but often, like five times a month.’

I thought, glancing over at Sean.

He turned just as if he’d felt my gaze.

His eyes gleamed like silverwork — bright, shifting with hints of other colors depending on the light.

They hadn’t always been. Before he lost his vision meeting a god, his eyes had been gold. A deep, multifaceted gold that made even my yellow ones look plain. I’d always liked his eyes. With so much of me marked by difference, so many pieces setting me apart from everyone else, I used to imagine that if I ever got to be just human, maybe my eyes would look something like Sean’s.