Chapter 382: A Heavier Guest
And just like that, Liz's treatment came to an end—quietly, almost anticlimactically.
There was no blinding flash of divine light splitting the heavens, no earth-shaking tremor that screamed a miracle had occurred.
It felt… ordinary. Steven acts like how one would rub some herbal balm on a kid who tripped on their feet.
Only when Liz actually stood on her own two feet did the three girl realize—it was already over.
That was the wonder of Steven's craft.
And exactly why Margaret and the others were so utterly stunned.
Before long, however, Margaret managed to collect herself. Quickly stepping forward with Qui'saršinnag to steady Liz—who was still unsteady on her newly-awakened legs—she turned and bowed deeply to Steven.
She truly hadn't expected him to help so decisively, so swiftly.
He hadn't even asked for an advance payment; he'd simply done it. Solved the problem that had plagued them for years as if it were nothing.
"Mr. Steve, you have my deepest gratitude," Margaret said sincerely. "Please wait a moment—I'll bring you your payment right away."
She turned to leave, ready to fetch the bundle of Originium she'd painstakingly gathered as his reward. It had cost them considerable effort to prepare, but for a result like this? It was more than worth it.
Unfortunately for her, money wasn't quite the same to him anymore.
The Originium she'd planned to pay him with—valuable as it was—meant little to Steven now.
"No rush," he said with a grin, waving a hand. "Instead of running off to pay me, shouldn't you at least offer me some drink first? Maybe dinner, too?"
He'd heard the rumors—of how Margaret was Rhodes Island's model knight, an idolized figure known for her impeccable grace and peerless cooking skills. A certain silly dog who loved honey cakes had mentioned it to him once, with great enthusiasm.
"Eh? If that's what you'd prefer, then of course!" Margaret's eyes brightened, her lips curving into a smile. "It would be my honor to host you, Mr. Steve."
When their gazes met, she could tell he wasn't joking—he truly meant to stay for a bit.
And that realization made her smile even warmer.
She'd already held a good impression of him to begin with—after all, the man had once intervened in that knight's rampage. Even if he hadn't cured Liz, sharing a meal with him would have felt only natural.
"Hold on," Steven said, snapping his fingers. "If we're doing this, might as well make it a proper gathering. Go fetch Zofia too, will you? I still owe her a meal anyway. This'll kill two birds with one stone."
He shot a glance toward Maria, tilting his head just enough to send the message: Go call your aunt.
Zofia didn't live with Margaret and the others—she had her own villa, luxurious and spacious.
Among these "little ponies," as he teasingly called them, she was without question the wealthiest. A proper rich lady, through and through.
Inviting her over now would be perfect—he could treat her to the dinner he owed her, courtesy of Margaret's hospitality.
Just as Steven was thinking that, she appeared—right on cue.
Zofia arrived at Margaret's doorstep, with Młynar trailing beside her. The two seemed to be in the middle of an argument; her dainty face was puffed up in irritation, her brows furrowed in that unmistakable "I'm right and you know it" expression.
But the moment she noticed Margaret and the others waiting outside, her features softened, annoyance fading like morning mist.
And then her gaze landed on him.
For just a heartbeat, Zofia froze. Her usually composed expression faltered—only for an instant, before she straightened up and pretended nothing had happened.
"Well, speak of the devil," Maria beamed, skipping up to her aunt and looping an arm through hers. "We were just talking about you, Auntie!"
Compared to her more serious sister Margaret, Maria always seemed freer, more playful when she was around her aunt. Her tone became lighter, her gestures more affectionate—as if she could finally breathe.
"Oh, come on," Zofia sighed, flicking Maria's forehead gently. "How many times do I have to tell you? Call me sister, not auntie. You're making me sound ancient! Do I look that old to you?"
Rolling her eyes with practiced elegance, Zofia finally turned to face Margaret and Steven, tilting her head slightly as curiosity danced in her crimson eyes.
"So," she asked, "was there something you needed from me? I was just having a… lively discussion with your uncle about your future education."
She glanced back over her shoulder at the golden-haired man who'd already given up on explaining himself and was striding past them toward his room.
Zofia could only sigh helplessly.
"That man," she muttered under her breath, "says he's going on some unfinished vacation and wants me to handle your education in his place. Can you believe that? Just tossing everything onto me and walking off like it's nothing."
Her tone was grumbling, but not without understanding.
After all, she knew why Młynar had ended up this way—why he'd buried himself in work for so long. It was all for the sake of the two sisters before her.
Now that the K.G.C.C had collapsed and the Major were officially over, Margaret had returned home—stronger, surer of her path forward.
So if the man wanted to take a long-overdue break… well, it wasn't unreasonable.
But still, leaving her to pick up the pieces? That was another matter entirely.
Margaret might be mature, yes—but Maria?
That bright, restless ball of energy could never stay still for long.
And as for Zofia herself… she wasn't even sure what she wanted to do with her own life. Let alone take responsibility for someone else's.
"I really don't think I'm cut out for this," she whispered under her breath.
"It's all right, Aunt—uh, Sister," Margaret said gently, smiling in that calm, reassuring way of hers. "Uncle deserves to enjoy his freedom. And you don't need to worry about us—we're not children anymore. We won't trouble you."
"Hmph! I wouldn't be so sure about that."
Zofia's eyes narrowed playfully, her voice lilting with mock irritation as her gaze finally turned—sharp and knowing—toward Steven.
"After all," she said with a faint smirk, "this one is trouble enough for an entire household, isn't that right… Mr. Steve?"
Her tone was sweet, but her eyes held the glint of someone who knew some insider information.
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
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