The mansion had been engulfed in sorrow since morning. The only son of the mansion’s owner had his heart stop earlier that day. At the mere age of twenty, after taking his last breath, his parents continued to grieve long after his heart had ceased.
No one could stop them. Clutching his increasingly cold body, they cried out that they couldn’t let it end like this. Just before his wife fainted, the mansion’s butler stepped forward as a representative, pleading with the master and his wife through his own tears.
“Please stop holding onto the young master. Sob, even if you keep holding him like this, the young master won’t come back to life...”
The butler suddenly stopped speaking. The master, thinking he was choked by emotion, turned around.
“Boohoo, me too. But just a little longer by this child’s side... Sob. But what is it?”
Only then did the master realize that the butler’s face was contorted in horror. When the master questioned him, he saw the butler’s eyes wide and unmoving—not on him, but on his son. The master followed his gaze, stunned.
“What on earth am I looking at...?”
The master turned and met a pair of green eyes. It was someone lying in bed, lifting their head and blinking slowly.
“......”
“......”
“I...”
“Ughhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!”
The master screamed and stumbled backward in disbelief.
His son was alive!
His son was alive! He had clearly witnessed his heart stop and his body grow cold—yet there he was, staring back with a puzzled expression.
This can’t be! Did I see it wrong?
No matter how much he rubbed his eyes, what stood before him was unmistakably his son. His wife, having confirmed the same, had already fainted silently.
“You, you, you... What on earth...”
When the master finally managed to speak through trembling lips, his son asked:
“I’m sorry, but... who are you?”
The master fainted on the spot, joining his wife.
****
It was strange.
People called him “Doryeon-nim“. [T/N: Young master, basically^^]
Moreover—
“No! The young master just died and came back to life... Ah, no, your body is still weak, you mustn’t move like this!”
The butler and several others—clearly attendants—blocked the doorway. But Abel was in a hurry.
“I’m sorry. Please let me through. I beg you.”
“Kuk! The young master, he... he apologized!”
Thud.
A stunned servant fainted.
Abel could only stare, dumbfounded, as people continued fainting around him. He needed to reach the prince, but what on earth was happening? He had awoken to strangers calling him “young master” and insisting he was weak. No one in the world was healthier than him. Abel turned to the butler, who had remained relatively composed.
“Please, let me pass. I must go to the palace. I have to see the prince.”
But the butler averted his gaze and stepped back, troubled.
“Y-young master... Please don’t look at me like that.”
He covered his face with his hands, barely able to speak.
“Young master, it’s dangerous outside. The palace? The capital is half a day away. And... there is no prince in this country.”
“D-did he pass away?!”
Startled, Abel seized the butler’s arm. The butler winced, barely looking at him, and replied:
“No, he’s simply not here. There is no prince. His Majesty has no heir.”
“What are you talking about? The prince is here! He’s already eight years old, and, and...”
Abel faltered in disbelief. As he looked around, everyone avoided his eyes, cheeks flushing. Abel begged again.
“Please, let me go. I must see the prince. If not the palace, then at least the capital... I need to find Melmond right away.”
“Alright. Let him go.”
Everyone turned in shock toward the master. He had just awoken, barely able to stand, but having confirmed with his own eyes that his son had truly returned.
“You want to go to the capital? Of course! I’ll send you anywhere! You’ve come back from the dead—how could I deny you ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) anything?!”
“T-Thank you.”
Abel bowed his head deeply. The overwhelmed master fainted once more—this time from emotion. His son had thanked him! He could die happy. Yet the eyes of those watching were filled with concern and disbelief.
The master and mistress had long indulged their son, spoiling his temperament under the excuse of his frailty. Though the young master now seemed subtly different, the master remained unchanged. The butler, knowing this better than anyone, sighed deeply.
“Ah... Young master, I’ll prepare the carriage at once.”
It did not take long to find Melmond’s house in the capital. Abel remembered it clearly from staying there two months prior. He arrived before sunset, his mind filled only with thoughts of the prince.
Still—
Why did people suddenly seem taller?
Why did they blush at the sight of him?
Why did his voice sound... odd?
Abel pushed aside the unease and knocked urgently on the door.
“Melmond! Melmond!”
Knock, knock, knock.
The door creaked open. But it wasn’t Melmond who answered—it was a boy, about ten years old. He, too, blushed at the sight of Abel. But Abel, half out of his wits, didn’t register it.
“Is this not Mr. Melmond’s house?”
“Yes, it is,” the boy replied, arms crossed. Though their eyes didn’t meet, he looked up at Abel, flushed.
“Then where is Mr. Melmond? I came to see him.”
“Well... Father went to the doctor’s office. He’ll be back soon.”
“Father? Melmond is your fa...”
Only then did Abel realize—the boy looked familiar. This didn’t make sense. This was...
“Is your name... Roy, by any chance?”
The boy nodded and, seeing Abel’s wide-eyed shock, responded cheerfully:
“I’ll go get Father right away!”
“Hey, tell me. Huh? Just a little bit of ingredients? How do you make it, huh?”
The doctor begged, but Melmond snorted, counting money.
“Is it really like this? Everyone’s raving about how well your medicine works. Didn’t I buy it first? So—”
“Oh! It’s not good to casually reveal another’s trade secrets,” Melmond said coldly, brushing him off.
“I’ll return in two weeks. You’ll know then.”
“Two weeks? Hey, come on! This’ll sell out in a day!”
The doctor protested, grabbing at him—when the office door burst open.
“Father!”
“Huh? Roy? What’s wrong?”
Melmond turned, startled. His son ran in without explanation, grabbing his hand.
“Father, hurry! We have to go!”
“What? Why?”
“Home! Now!”
“What about home?”
“The fairy has arrived!!!!”
“It’s a fairy. It’s real! Very, very beautiful!”
D*mn it. Should he give him that popular constipation medicine? Melmond seriously considered it as he arrived in front of his house—until he saw it with his own eyes. A real fairy.
But his appearance—it was like something out of a fairy tale. To think such a beautiful person actually existed in the world!
Melmond stood frozen, mouth agape, oblivious even to the drool running down his chin.
“Wh-who are you?”
Melmond asked, barely managing the words. For a moment, he was relieved that his son wasn’t crazy. Then the fairy grabbed his hand and shouted:
“Melmond, it’s me. Abel!”
Melmond was struck by shock for the second time that day. What the hell—had some contagious madness begun spreading while he wasn’t looking?
It had been quite a while since Melmond left the palace, but even until recently, envoys from the King’s Heart continued visiting his home. The worst period had been in the few years after the prince ascended the throne six years ago. They were desperate to extract information about Abel from Melmond—naturally, he ignored them all.
But some of them weren’t from the King’s Heart. After news spread that a certain Regas had lost the king’s favor, rumors followed. They said the prince couldn’t forget the Regas he’d met in his youth. They also said he was shockingly ordinary in appearance.
That part was true, but Melmond had grown sick of people trying to use it to get close to the king. Some went too far—claiming they were Abel’s reincarnation. Just like the mentally unstable, very, very pretty fairy standing before him. Worse yet, the fairy was persistent.
𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂
“I have nothing to say. Please leave.”
Melmond, his face flushed, forcibly but gently pulled his hand away from the fairy. He turned and tried to retreat into the house—but the fairy grabbed him again.
“Eek! Melmond, why are you like this? It’s me, Abel! The one who diligently climbed the cliffs under Master Wiedel’s guidance!”
No matter how beautiful this so-called fairy might be, Melmond couldn’t help glaring at him with barely restrained fury. What he hated most was people using the names of the dead for their own gain.
“Listen. I don’t know who you are, but it’s best you don’t mention that name. Maybe you said it without thinking, but—”
“What? Who are you talking about? I’m Abel. It’s true! Don’t you remember? You were the one who first came to hear about Master’s dream—and then, both you and Master came chasing after me the next day. But... my master fell ill and passed away the same day I first entered the palace.”
Abel’s words spilled out in confusion. Melmond narrowed his eyes—this one knew more than the others. If he knew they came chasing after Abel the very next day... he must be a particularly persistent lunatic.
“Oh, right! The cookies! I brought them from the palace for my master, but since I couldn’t give them to him, I ate them at his grave. I even built his grave myself—right back there.”
Abel pointed behind the house and continued earnestly. He didn’t notice the frozen expression creeping over Melmond’s face.
“At the time, your wife was away, so only you and I attended the funeral—”
“How did you know that?”
“What?”
Only then did Abel hear the sharpness in Melmond’s voice. He fell silent. Melmond stared at him with a gaze that could kill.
“How did you know about the cookies? That’s something only Abel and I ever knew. So how... how on earth do you know?”
Abel faltered, staring blankly at Melmond before speaking softly:
“Because I am Abel.”
“Hey. I’m not in the mood for jokes. I’m not playing along with your nonsense.”
“Melmond, it’s not a j-joke. I am Abel. Are you angry? Did you get punished for helping me escape the palace? Huh? That’s strange—I made sure to tie you up and leave you behind so you wouldn’t get caught...”
Abel apologized with a genuinely regretful look.
“I’m really sorry if you got in trouble because of me. Oh! Did you ever find the map I drew for you? The one to the Spring of Prayer?”
What is this person?
Melmond’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.
How does he know so much?
“You...”
“Eek!”
Suddenly, the fairy screamed and stepped back, his expression stunned. Then he exclaimed:
“No—Melmond! Now that I really see you, you’ve grown incredibly tall!”
“......”
Thud.
Melmond instinctively took a step back. The fairy knew all about Abel—and still, he didn’t believe it. But this—this was different. That absurd tone! That familiar idiocy! He hadn’t felt this frustrated in twelve years. And if that laugh came next—
“Hehe, what did you eat to grow so tall?”
Thud.
A jolt, like being struck with a hammer, ran through Melmond.
“You... You, you... Are you really A-Abel?”
“Yes! Ahaha—You finally recognize me! I’m Abel! I was really scared when you gave me that scary look. And then, I woke up in this strange place where everyone kept calling me ‘young master’. It was quite a shock!”
“......”
“But Melmond, something’s weird. I’m sure the last thing I remember was closing my eyes in the forest with the prince... so how did I wake up in some strange mansion outside the palace?”
“......”
“Melmond, are you alright? You look pale.”
“You’re one to talk.”
Abel nodded enthusiastically. Melmond asked in a hushed tone:
“Did you look in the mirror?”
Mirror?
As expected, Abel scoffed. Melmond called out to his son, who was peeking around the corner.
“Go get a mirror.”
But there was no need. The butler, who had followed Abel from afar, stepped forward as if waiting for this very moment.
“Mirror! I have it right here!”
Melmond frowned at the sudden intrusion, but the butler’s face radiated relief.
“Young master! You’re finally asking for the mirror! Here—it’s the one you always cherished.”
The butler, his voice thick with emotion, handed Abel a large mirror and quickly stepped back. Abel remembered—he’d been asked about the mirror many times. ‘Would you like to see the mirror?’
What on earth could be in that mirror?
Unknowingly, he lifted it.
“......”
A long pause. Melmond was the first to speak, watching Abel freeze like a statue.
“Abel, is that you...?”
Thud.
Before Abel could answer, his delicate fairy-like body crumpled to the ground. Melmond rushed toward him, alarmed—but the butler was quicker, moving like lightning. He propped Abel up and pulled a small bottle from his pocket, pouring it into Abel’s mouth without spilling a drop. Once done, he turned furiously on Melmond.
“What did you say to our young master?! His heart is weak—even the slightest shock could make him collapse!”
“...I didn’t say anything.”
Melmond’s weak excuse was lost beneath the butler’s sobbing cries.
“Young master! Please wake up! Sniff... Here’s the mirror you love more than anything in the world!”
Melmond’s emotions were in complete disarray. After countless questions and bizarre confirmations, he could no longer deny the possibility:
The fairy in front of him might truly be the reincarnated Abel.
Melmond froze. No matter how successful his medicine, what was the point if his child had lost his mind?
Driven by his son’s frantic urgency, Melmond rushed home. He wanted to force-feed him a bottle of medicine—but sadly, no such cure existed for madness.