I had worried what if Roen didn’t like Jeremi Iker, but this was the complete opposite of what I’d imagined.

Jeremi Iker mumbled awkwardly, as if unsure how to respond.

“I, I…”

I was also curious about what Jeremi Iker’s ideal type was.

In the original story, he liked Roen, but judging by the current situation, I worried he might be startled by Roen’s boldness and step back in surprise.

After all, if Roen doesn’t end up with Jeremi Iker, she might reconcile with Kaizel again.

I couldn’t just stand by and watch Kian suffer the pain caused by Roen’s death, since she was meant to become his sacred power mentor.

Jeremi Iker seemed to ponder for a moment before speaking.

“Someone like you, Lady Roen, would be wonderful, but I’ve never really thought about my ideal type before.”

‘Hmm. This feels like a green light.’

“Actually, I don’t have an ideal type either.”

“Is that so?”

“No, let me correct that. I didn’t have one. But I’ve just found one.”

“Oh, congratulations.”

“Someone exactly like you.”

If Jeremi Iker became Roen’s ideal type, did that mean any chance of reconciliation with Kaizel was now gone forever?

“I didn’t realize it myself, but apparently I like men with good physiques.”

Hmm. Had Jeremi Iker’s face ever been this red?

He seemed completely unaware that his face had flushed crimson, making no move to cover it with his hands—just staring at Roen with a dazed, vacant expression.

At any rate, I began to suspect that perhaps Roen’s attraction to Kaizel in the original story had simply been because of his physique.

After all, looking around at the festival, no one else appeared more physically impressive than Kaizel.

The only ones who came close were Sikar Blake and Jeremi Iker.

I’d vaguely assumed Roen’s preferred type was simply a knight or someone knight-like.

That’s why I dressed Jeremi Iker in knight’s attire—but apparently her ideal was a man with a good physique.

Had Jeremi Iker shown up in his usual robe, he wouldn’t have caught Roen’s attention at all.

Somehow, I felt that if Jeremi Iker kept rejecting Roen, she’d unhesitatingly seek out another man with a good physique. After all, she didn’t seem genuinely smitten with him at first sight.

Judging by how her gaze kept drifting toward Jeremi Iker’s sinewy forearms, my guess was clearly correct.

“Even though there are many men with better physiques than me, you’re kind enough to favor someone as unimpressive as me—thank you, Lady Roen.”

“Unimpressive? You look wonderful. Especially those tendons rising on your forearms—they’re truly charming.”

“I, is that so?”

Jeremi Iker looked so flustered, I wondered if he’d ever sweated this profusely in his entire life.

Roen’s continued bold remarks kept flustering him further—he’d tilt his head in confusion, then belatedly understand her words and blush furiously.

Since he’d left the mage guild and lived only in his small tower, Jeremi Iker had likely never met anyone more talkative than himself.

And certainly never a woman who spoke so boldly and flirtatiously.

While Jeremi Iker alternated between embarrassment and relief, sweating nervously, I had to sweat just to suppress my laughter.

“Master Jeremi Iker, have you ever kissed anyone?”

…I simply couldn’t hold it in.

Especially since Roen said this just as Jeremi Iker and I were simultaneously sipping juice—we both spat it out and burst into coughing fits.

Only Sikar Blake, devoid of empathy, wiped my lips with a blank expression.

Meanwhile, he checked once whether the drink had gone bad before pouring me another, but I didn’t even notice the drink—I was too eager to hear what Jeremi Iker would say.

“Not yet.”

Jeremi Iker tried to casually wipe the sweat beading on his forehead with his sleeve, but when Roen offered her handkerchief, he stared blankly for a moment, then accepted it politely with both hands and dabbed his brow.

“Thank you.”

Roen smiled faintly at him and said,

“Don’t mention it. It’s not just a gift. Wash it and return it to me.”

Jeremi Iker stopped wiping his forehead and stared at Roen with a stupefied expression.

‘We probably need to leave them alone.’

After discreetly leaving, Sikar Blake and I went not to the carriage but to the location of the coming-of-age ceremony.

“Aren’t we heading to the carriage? Why are we here?”

“We’ve come this far—we should at least watch the ceremony. You’ve never seen one before, right?”

“It looks like there’ll be a lot of people there…”

“In this small village, hardly anyone turns adult this year—don’t worry, just follow me.”

“Aren’t there many spectators?”

Compared to my hesitant mood, Sikar Blake’s reply was brief.

“No, not really.”

Glancing around, it didn’t seem like many people had gathered, so we moved toward the cedar tree where the ceremony was taking place.

It was only a few steps away, after all.

The festival atmosphere was filled with the fiery enthusiasm of young people.

Those splashing water at each other, those praying, those having their fortunes told—all were caught up in the festive excitement.

Sikar Blake grabbed my shoulder, turned me around, and said,

“Walk all the way to the cedar tree.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t look back, no matter what.”

I thought I knew what Sikar Blake was planning.

According to the indigenous people of Lepher, during the coming-of-age ceremony, they sprinkle holy water on the footsteps of the newly adult to ensure they live long, healthy lives free of illness.

If I was right, Sikar Blake intended to sprinkle holy water along my footsteps.

“Sikar. Are you planning to perform the coming-of-age ceremony for me?”

Sikar Blake, who had been pulling holy water from his pocket, hesitated when I turned around. Seeing that he’d already been caught, he decided there was no point hiding it and fully revealed the vial.

“Yes. In Lecador, everyone undergoes a coming-of-age ceremony when they become an adult. By kingdom standards, you’re well past adulthood, but it won’t be a bad experience—why not try it?”

Seeing Sikar Blake rambling explanations in advance to persuade me in case I refused, I couldn’t help but smile.

“When did you get that holy water?”

“I obtained one from Jeremi Iker.”

More like he took it by force.

“Then share some with me. I’ll do it for you too.”

“I’ve already done mine. Here, everyone does it at age eighteen.”

“I thought you were the type who’d never socialize with people, but at least you managed to complete your ceremony. Good for you.”

“At the time, I was too busy to attend festivals. Even if I hadn’t been busy, I wouldn’t have gone. Anyway, Andrea sprinkled the holy water for me, so I completed the ceremony safely.”

I see. I had a feeling you wouldn’t have attended a festival.

Sikar Blake turned me around again.

“Let’s start over. Walk forward to the cedar tree—don’t look back until you arrive. They say looking back invites misfortune.”

“Okay. Got it. I’m off, then.”

I stepped forward slowly, one foot at a time.

A coming-of-age ceremony… I was already well past the age of adulthood, but this was my first time experiencing one.

Here, the ceremony symbolized a promise to live responsibly before the gods, while also receiving divine protection and blessings.

Each step forward carried deep meaning. Perhaps because I’d unknowingly passed my own coming-of-age day long ago, the significance felt even more profound.

Behind me, I heard the soft pattering of holy water being sprinkled, along with Sikar Blake’s murmuring.

“O Lepher, Sovereign of All Things, who gazes upon peace and tranquility—behold this pitiful woman, like a single stem of Armeria. May Lepher’s blessing descend and protect her always.”

By the time Sikar Blake finished speaking, I had reached the cedar tree.

“Now that you’ve safely completed the ceremony, you’ve officially become a person of this world. To celebrate, let’s dance.”

Sikar Blake extended his hand and continued,

“I thought I’d never get to use the dance we practiced, but now I can put it to use here.”

‘Dance?’

When I glanced around, Sikar Blake grabbed my face and fixed my gaze toward him.

“No need to look around. Everyone’s too busy enjoying themselves—they won’t pay us any attention.”

“It’s fine. I don’t have to dance that particular dance.”

“If, as you said, you want Jeremi Iker and Roen to succeed, it might be better for us to join them nearby and dance together. Or do you still refuse?”

Looking at them, they were still merely talking.

I thought leaving them alone would help the mood deepen, but Jeremi Iker still looked awkward.

“Nothing binds a man and woman together as closely as physical contact.”

Sikar Blake’s words held some truth.

He grabbed my hand and marched resolutely toward Roen.

“You don’t seriously plan to spend the festival without dancing, do you?”

Jeremi Iker, already wearing a miserable expression, stared blankly into space at Sikar Blake’s suggestion.

Roen gave Sikar Blake an approving gesture, then extended her hand toward Jeremi Iker.

“Let’s dance too. A dance between a priestess and a mage—doesn’t that sound exotic?”

Roen’s gaze toward Jeremi Iker seemed to say, ‘I will absolutely devour you today,’ while Jeremi Iker’s gaze toward Roen seemed to plead, ‘Please, don’t devour me.’ Watching them, I couldn’t help laughing, my shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Jeremi Iker reluctantly took Roen’s hand and smiled awkwardly.

“Y, yes…”

The moment Jeremi Iker took Roen’s hand, he was pulled magnetically right up to her nose. Roen grinned widely, grabbed Jeremi Iker’s hand, and began to dance.

Jeremi Iker looked utterly overwhelmed, dragged around like Roen’s marionette, but the two of them actually matched quite well.

“Let’s dance together too. Though I don’t really know the dances commoners do. Maybe I’ll just follow Roen’s moves—is that okay?”

“I was about to suggest following Roen too. It should help deepen our bond.”

“Not a bad idea.”

I took Sikar Blake’s hand and began mimicking the dance Roen and Jeremi Iker were doing. It wasn’t the dance we’d practiced, but Sikar Blake followed along quite skillfully and escorted me gracefully.

The start wasn’t bad—holding hands, turning in place, stepping energetically sideways then returning to position. It was a lively dance, somewhat similar yet distinct from waltzes or rumbas performed by couples.

Had we continued dancing like this, there would have been no issue. But the problem was that Roen suddenly began dancing strangely—and Sikar Blake followed suit.

Roen suddenly interlaced her fingers with Jeremi Iker’s as they danced, and because Sikar Blake mimicked it just as Jeremi Iker looked startled and flustered, I too was startled and flustered.

“Y, you don’t have to follow that!”

His impassive, half-lidded eyes looked down at me slyly.

“If I’m going to follow, I might as well follow perfectly.”

“You must have misunderstood—I only meant to follow the dance.”

“You must have misunderstood something too—I intend to mimic everything Roen does while dancing. For instance, if Roen, blinded by passion, kisses Jeremi Iker, I fully plan to do the same.”