Find the One Who Abandoned Me - Chapter 43

Otis looked at Calliope, who was clinging solely to Isaac’s face, with a somewhat exasperated expression. Did she really notice that scar from that distance? Even I barely spotted it up close, hidden beneath his black hair.

“How did this happen? My goodness, it hasn’t even been properly treated!”

Calliope, who was no fool, quickly deduced who had left that mark on his forehead. Her expression shifted from surprise to fury, and the two men, stunned by her reaction, were momentarily at a loss for words.

“That damned bastard. I knew this would happen, so I sent the letter early.”

“L-Lady Calliope?”

Though whispered, her words were loud enough for the nearby Isaac to hear. Seeing the panic on his face, Calliope composed herself with difficulty and called out.

“Summon the physician. Lord Esteban, please head to my room. I’ll escort the guest and join you shortly.”

“Y-Your room, my lady? That might be a bit…”

“What of it? We’re already engaged, soon to be married. We’ll be seeing everything there is to see of each other eventually—might as well start with the room.”

“…Pardon?”

“Escort Lord Esteban at once.”

Unable to argue with her, Isaac was helplessly led away by Susan. Watching the whole exchange, Otis didn’t know how to react. He stayed silent, then let out a sound—part sigh, part hollow laugh.

“I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Is there anything that needs to be said?”

Both Calliope and Otis were quick-witted. Otis could now guess why she had acted the way she did when they first met, and Calliope had a rough sense of what he was thinking. This is why clever people often don’t get along—they usually find each other irritating.

“Either way, both you and I got what we wanted, didn’t we? I’d say no one lost anything.”

“Your acting skills are quite impressive.”

“Watching you flee in a panic was quite adorable, Lord Otis.”

Knowing now why she had been so cold toward him from the start, Otis climbed into the family carriage with a stiff, unreadable face. Calliope held her skirts and gave him a courteous bow according to formal etiquette. However, it only felt like she was mocking him, so he slammed the carriage door shut with a loud bang.

The moment the carriage departed, Calliope dashed back into the mansion. Meanwhile, Otis, who had been secretly peeking out the window, slammed his fist against the carriage wall as soon as they left the marquis’s estate.

“…Damn it.”

Utterly humiliated. Remembering how he had smugly assumed she liked him, Otis thanked the heavens he hadn’t actually voiced what he’d been about to say—to tell her not to fall for him. If he had said it, he probably would’ve thrown himself out of the moving carriage by now.

The conversation about the Demon King Calliope had mentioned was long forgotten. All that remained in Otis’s mind was the embarrassment of his own foolishness.

“Noble engagements are generally meant to forge alliances between families. I understand your feelings for me, Lady Calliope, but take comfort in the fact that most marriages are not based on love.”

If he could, he’d go back a few minutes and slap himself.

“Ugh!”

“My lord, are you all right?”

“Mind your own business!”

Startled, the coachman and servant sitting outside called to him, but Otis snapped back, ordering them to be quiet. They exchanged glances and shut their mouths. His spiral of self-reflection didn’t end until they reached the ducal estate.

Back in her room, Calliope found Isaac sitting on the sofa, listening to the physician. She sat beside him and gently brushed his bangs aside, revealing a long gash on the left side of his forehead. Her face twisted in concern as she examined it closely—parts of the wound were darkened, as if something foreign was embedded inside.

Just then, the physician spoke.

“It appears ink has seeped into the wound. To remove it, we might need to, um… cut it out.”

“Cut it out?”

Calliope snapped, turning her head sharply toward him. The physician, flustered, raised his hands and stammered,

“T-There is another way. If we use a purification potion available only from the Imperial Temple, it should remove the black stains without the need for cutting.”

“Good. Let’s go with that.”

“However, the issue is… that potion is quite a bit more expensive than others.”

At her gesture, the physician leaned in and whispered the price into her ear. Calliope’s expression remained indifferent even after hearing the figure.

“That’s fine. Go get it.”

“Yes, my lady.”

The price of the purification potion was equivalent to that of a countryside villa. Fortunately, Calliope had enough personal funds to afford a few bottles without issue. Still, a cautious voice interrupted, trying to dissuade her.

“My lady, there’s no need for you to go to such lengths for me.”

Whether he had overheard the whispered cost from the physician or simply felt that spending such a large sum on him was excessive, Calliope found his words deeply disheartening. Her brows furrowed as she placed a hand back on his cheek.

“I’m doing this because I want to.”

“But—”

“I’m upset, you know.”

“……”

He fell silent. She hadn’t wanted to resort to emotional tactics, but treating his wound was the priority, and so she couldn’t afford pride at the moment. Calliope sighed inwardly and kept gently fussing over his face. Even when the physician began casting healing magic beside them, she remained entirely focused on Isaac.

“Who would do this to such a beautiful face?”

“…Um…”

“I’d been saving this face—planning to touch it sparingly so it wouldn’t wear down.”

“My lady…”

“It’ll still be pretty even if it scars, but still.”

“……”

“…Well, the treatment is complete, so I’ll be taking my leave now.”

The physician couldn’t bear the atmosphere any longer. Thankfully, Calliope gave him a subtle wave, signaling that he could go.

Once he exited, silence settled between the two left in the room. Calliope continued inspecting the scar, now just a faint smudge, while Isaac remained overwhelmed by the unfamiliar affection and kindness shown to him.

“It’s taken care of—for now, at least. We can’t get the potion immediately, so… let’s see. You could visit again next weekend.”

Calliope knew he was growing uncomfortable with her. So, she quietly withdrew her hand from his cheek and shifted to sit about two handspans away.

Isaac sat still, glancing once at Calliope, then around her room. Compared to his own, hers was lavish and spacious—nearly palatial. The furniture, though aged, was clearly valuable even to someone like him who knew little of such things. She was nothing like he had assumed.

“…May I ask why you called me here today?”

Can someone like her really be entangled with someone like me? The thought struck him suddenly. He felt a deep embarrassment remembering how he once thought they were in similar situations. She was kind, cheerful, and knew how to offer warmth to others—unlike him.

“We’re engaged, aren’t we? Wanting to spend time with one’s fiancé isn’t so strange. Besides, we also need to discuss the engagement ceremony.”

“The ceremony?”

“Yes. The engagement ceremony.”

In the past, Calliope and Isaac had been betrothed with nothing more than an exchange of documents between their families—no formal ceremony. That may be common in fetal betrothals, but their case had been far from that. Their engagement had been as rushed and perfunctory as lightning in a dry sky.

Calliope had no intention of repeating that in this lifetime. While she didn’t plan a grand celebration, she at least wanted a modest, meaningful ceremony. And for that—

“We need to go shopping for clothes.”

“…Sorry?”

“Jewelry too. And shoes.”

Isaac nodded, though it was clear he misunderstood. He likely thought she meant her clothes and accessories. Calliope didn’t bother correcting the misconception. Instead, she rose from her seat.

Truthfully, she had wanted to spend some quiet time alone with him today. But after seeing the state he was in, she decided it was better to address that first—starting with his clothes, clearly borrowed and ill-fitting, and that glaring scar on his forehead.

“…?”

When Calliope suddenly reached out and brushed his hair aside, Isaac looked up at her with puzzled eyes. His hair, though of fine texture, had clearly never been professionally tended to. There was so much to fix. Calliope gave him a soft smile and whispered,

“I’ll take care of everything.”

Isaac spent the rest of the day being whisked around by Calliope. The carriage brought them not to a dressmaker’s, but to a tailor specializing in men’s formalwear. There, she seemed to be on a mission, pulling out rolls of the finest fabric and holding them up to his body one by one.

This one doesn’t match his skin tone. That one’s sheen is off.
After sifting through thirty-eight types of fabric, she finally had his measurements taken and requested the completed suits be delivered directly to the Count’s estate.

“This is… too much.”

“Is it?”

Even when he tried to object, Calliope only responded with a sweet smile. But Isaac’s unease didn’t end there.

At the jeweler’s, Calliope showed no interest in pieces for herself. Instead, she swept up men’s accessories—cufflinks, pins, brooches—without hesitation.

Clear diamonds, she said, complemented Isaac’s eyes perfectly. Any item that caught her gaze went straight onto the purchase list.

“This really… isn’t necessary.”

So, Isaac, who had been keeping quiet until then, finally spoke up again.

“I’m upset—”

“Even so, I won’t allow it.”

Ah. It wasn’t working anymore. Calliope lowered her brows to feign pitifulness, then suddenly widened her eyes in a childlike expression. Isaac was simply amazed by how quickly and fluidly her face transformed.

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