I Start with a Bad Hand!

A strange premonition sent chills up my spine.

‘Elius couldn’t have started the fire.’

There was no evidence of arson, and Elius was the protagonist of the original story. No main character would set fire to a civilian area. That would make him a real psychopath.

Still, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling. I decided to leave the area, and as if reading my mind, Elius started walking towards us.

“Let’s go. We’ll be late for the next class.”

“Yeah.”

I hurried my steps, but the atmosphere was still tense. Agnes and I weren’t the type to forcibly lift a gloomy mood. However, this time it felt necessary, as if failing to do so would allow sorrow to seep into our relationship.

Agnes seemed to think the same. She awkwardly changed the subject to my hair.

“Why did you cut your hair? Summer’s already over.”

I liked it, though. She hesitated before continuing.

“I actually ate your hair a few times.”

“…What? I always had my hair tied when I was with you.”

“It must have been really long.”

No wonder it felt damp sometimes even when it wasn’t raining… When I turned to her with an expression of disbelief, Agnes burst into laughter. Just then, I heard Elius’s footsteps behind us.

“So, why did you really cut your hair?”

“Just. Something dirty got on it.”

As Elius passed by, I made sure to speak slowly and clearly enough for anyone to understand. I heard him click his tongue lowly as he brushed past my shoulder.

“Are you talking about my saliva?”

After Elius disappeared, Agnes asked, embarrassed.

However, Elius was not someone I could easily avoid. After parting ways with Agnes, just as the class I took with Icarus ended, Elius’s attendant called out to me with a stern face.

“…Me?”

“Her?”

“Yes. I was instructed to bring the young lady of the Degoph barony.”

Icarus, who was following me out, exchanged confused looks with me and the attendant. It was clear we were both wondering, ‘Why?’ The attendant simply watched our exchange silently.

“What is this about?”

“…His Highness the Crown Prince specifically requested only the young lady of the Degoph barony.”

The attendant, like a broken AI speaker, couldn’t say anything beyond that. I could only nod at Icarus before being half-dragged to Elius’s dormitory. Elius spoke without looking up from his documents.

“You’re aware of the fire on Laimas Street.”

“…Yes, I’ve heard about it.”

“Coincidentally, it happened shortly after you began searching for Revata.”

“I don’t understand what you’re implying.”

Despite my somewhat irreverent response, Elius didn’t react and instead brought up an unexpected topic.

“About your hair.”

“My hair… what about it?”

“It looks like you cut it in a hurry. Why?”

“I didn’t realize His Highness was interested in my appearance.”

I responded just as stiffly, like a broken AI speaker myself, and finally, a frown appeared on Elius’s handsome face.

Irritated, Elius threw the report he had been reading.

“Do you think I called you here for idle chatter? Don’t waste my time. You know why I’m asking this question.”

Ironically, Elius seemed to suspect the same thing I did—that I might have started the fire on Laimas Street. He probably thought that my long hair had gotten singed, prompting me to cut it hurriedly.

Yet, his attitude showed he hadn’t considered any other possible cause for the fire, confirming one thing about the Laimas Street blaze.

‘There’s already evidence of arson.’

Since he was so openly showing his cards and suspecting me, I had no desire to prolong this any further.

“I needed money urgently, so I sold my hair.”

I don’t know why you’re so interested in my hair. After speaking as dispassionately as possible, I finally raised my eyes to meet his. I expected him to mock or belittle me, but Elius’s reaction was unexpected.

“What…?”

He looked like a wealthy heir encountering a student dormitory for the first time, as if he had stumbled upon a life beyond his imagination. It strangely soured my mood. He stood there, mouth agape for a moment, then asked again with a face that screamed disbelief.

“You sold your hair?”

“Yes.”

“Not just cut it?”

“I cut it and sold it, so yes, both are true.”

“But your father holds the title of baron… doesn’t he?”

“A title and financial stability are two different things.”

“I thought the Elexion Ducal House provided annual financial support.”

“…Our estate has long winters and frequent snowstorms, causing many of our elderly residents to get injured each year. A few years ago, my father hired people from the magic tower to lay down magical stones to keep the roads clear of snow. Most of our current tax revenue and other income are used to repay that debt.”

Elius stopped his aggressive questioning but remained in shock. It seemed like the perfect moment to make my exit.

“As a provincial noble from a humble family, I am always at a loss when I have the honor of meeting Your Highness. If there are no more misunderstandings, I would like to take my leave.”

I bowed mechanically, devoid of any sincerity, and hurried to leave the corridor.

“Wait a moment.”

Elius stopped me after I had walked a considerable distance.

“How can you prove that you sold your hair?”

“You can ask the wig merchant on Laimas Street. If… he is still alive.”

I felt a tightness in my chest, making it hard to speak. I had only encountered those people briefly, yet the thought that they might all be dead made my hand instinctively clutch my chest. Elius looked at me for a moment, his grip tightening painfully before he finally let go. Just then, a voice came from behind me.

“You…”

Someone stood there trembling. When I saw their face, I felt a chill far more intense than anything Elius had subjected me to.

Agnes was looking at me with an expression full of righteous anger.

“…!”

Even after I explained the situation, Agnes didn’t stop pouting and grumbling.

“You should have borrowed from me.”

“How could I borrow money from a friend?”

“And why can’t you borrow from a friend?”

“The amount was too large…”

“If you were in such a desperate situation that you had to sell your hair, I would have contacted home and loaned you the money immediately.”

I felt a strange gratitude at her words but also knew it would never work. This was because of my tragic family history.

“My dad…”

No, I can’t call him dad now.

“…I mean, my father once loaned money to a friend and it turned into a disaster. He lost the money and the friend. After witnessing that, I don’t want to borrow or lend money to friends.”

“Hey, do you think I’d stiff you?”

“I just don’t want to mix money issues with friendship.”

Maybe the timeless quote isn’t “To be or not to be, that is the question,” but rather “Neither a borrower nor a lender be to a friend.” There’s a reason such advice transcends generations and cultures.

Agnes changed the subject.

“Then why did you tell the Crown Prince and not me?”

“It’s not like I wanted to… And hey, is the Crown Prince the same as you? He’s a stranger to me, so it’s not awkward to share such things, but it’s different with you. How could I say something like that to a close friend?”

Agnes’s expression turned complex. Her lips twitched upwards, yet she still looked unconvinced.

“Shouldn’t you tell a close friend more?”

“How could I say something so embarrassing?”

I grumbled in response, and Agnes did the same.

“You’re stubborn in weird ways. Anyway, I’m coming to your room later.”

“Alright, we should start preparing for the semester play.”

After parting ways with Agnes, who had to stop by her room, I returned to the dorm first. There was something unfamiliar hanging on the doorknob. It looked like a gift-wrapped paper bag or a thick envelope.

‘What is this?’

It was so light that it barely had any weight. As soon as I untied the ribbon securing the paper bag, its contents spilled out.

Thud.

A long bundle of black hair, carefully wrapped, fell out of the paper.