The Spirit Said, 'You're Unworthy as My Master, Cancel the Contract!' So I’ll Give It to My Sister Who Wants It - Episode 1.3

“Haa…”

At night, Mistia stood on the balcony. Misfortunes kept coming one after another, and all she could do was sigh.

The large open window let the thin, translucent curtains flutter in the wind. The night air was cold, but she wanted to forget the earlier commotion as soon as possible. Since she had stepped out barefoot, her feet were growing chilly.

She placed her hands on the railing and looked up at the night sky.

There were no stars, only thick clouds. However, through the gaps, an unusually bright moon cast its light on the surroundings. In time, the sky would likely turn completely dark.

As she stood there in a daze, a low voice echoed through the space where she had been alone.

“—Don’t do anything rash.”

It was a voice so sweet that anyone who heard it once would want to hear it again.

Mistia quickly turned toward the room where the voice had come from and opened her mouth.

“Who’s there?”

Her voice carried more tension than she expected, and she swallowed hard.

“…A spirit.”

Now that she was paying attention, she could indeed sense a spirit’s presence. Through the sheer curtain, the moonlight outlined his silhouette.

A gentle breeze stirred the curtain, revealing his figure.

(Whoa… What a beautiful man.)

If she had to describe him in one phrase, he was like a holy knight straight out of a fairy tale.

His skin was pale and flawless. His platinum blonde hair shimmered as if it had gathered the moon’s light. His perfectly symmetrical features, his sharp, almond-shaped cobalt blue eyes catching the moonlight—everything about him was breathtaking. His thin lips appeared slightly pale, and his sharp chin was elegantly slender.

He was tall—so much so that she had to look up at him.

He took a step closer to Mistia, his presence overwhelming.

He wore a white surcoat over a blue cape draped over his shoulders. Plate armor covered his shoulders, arms, and legs, and a sword hung at his waist. He looked every bit like a knight serving a noble princess, exuding the aura of a well-trained warrior.

“Don’t even think about dying. Come here.”

From a few steps away, he extended a hand toward her with an emotionless expression. His armor clinked softly.

(Wait… Dying? Oh, I see. My clothes are just nightwear, I’m barefoot, and I’m standing on a third-floor balcony in the middle of the night… No wonder he misunderstood.)

“You seem to have the wrong idea. I have no intention of jumping.”

“…But you have suffered enough that it wouldn’t be surprising if you did.”

“W-Why do you know about that? Were you nearby?”

“Yes. Since the traitors turned against you.”

“Traitors…?”

She immediately understood. He was talking about Shaitan and the others.

But why had he been there?

Sensing her confusion, the moonlit man spoke.

“When you summoned the last spirit, I was summoned as well. But back then, your magic was too weak to manifest me. So, I fell into slumber deep within. When the traitors abandoned their positions, I simply took their place.”

“Then… you are…?”

“Your true spirit.”

Mistia blinked.

(This is surprising… I never imagined there was a fourth one.)

“But that means… The last spirit was summoned five years ago. Were you trapped all this time?”

His sharp eyes held a severe, cold expression. Yet, despite his imposing appearance, he had willingly bound himself rather than burden his master.

Hearing her words, he averted his gaze slightly, folding his arms as if embarrassed.

“It’s not something you should concern yourself with.”

“—What is your name?”

“…If I tell you, it will form a true contract.”

(So that’s why he came. Like Shaitan and the others, he wants me to break the contract.)

Mistia felt her emotions cool instantly.

Perhaps she had been born under a cursed star that spirits despised.

She sighed deeply, feeling bitter disappointment, and turned her back to him.

Normally, she should just say, “I see,” and let him leave.

(But if I don’t stop him here… I will die.)

After thinking for a moment, she turned back to face the spirit.

She felt guilty about forcing a contract upon someone who had no intention of serving her. But she had no other choice.

“Please. Form a contract with me.”

The spirit looked surprised by her desperate plea.

“…Even after everything that’s happened?”

“You already know, don’t you? If I don’t form a contract with a spirit, I’ll be forced to marry Lord Mixilian. He takes young brides only to torment them for his pleasure.”

“…You’d rather die than be wed to such a man. But do you think I’ll just agree so easily?”

“You’re right. It’s selfish of me to ask.”

“Then, what will you give me in return?”

His voice held a hint of expectation.

She considered what a spirit might desire.

Shaitan had sought strength.

Shisha’s wish was unknown.

And Ariel had wished… to be loved.

Right now, the only wish she could fulfill was Ariel’s.

Mistia was not good at expressing emotions.

No matter how much she felt, she struggled to convey it to others.

But if she wanted to keep this spirit by her side, she had to change.

After thinking carefully, she spoke her conclusion.

And since she was notoriously bad at reading emotions—

“I will cherish you forever and love you.”

“…What?”

It was an unexpected proposal.

A long silence stretched between them.

Realizing what she had just said, Mistia snapped back to reality.

With a startled expression, she hurried to correct herself.

“Ah! I didn’t mean that as a propo—”

“Heh.”

She was cut off.

The beautiful spirit, who had yet to reveal his name, curved his lips into a wicked smile—so unlike a noble knight.

Placing a hand on his chin, he mused aloud, amused.

“I never thought I’d receive a marriage proposal.”

“N-No, that’s not what I—”

“I’m pleased. I gladly accept.”

“Wha—?!”

Mistia froze at the unexpected response.

Without hesitation, he gracefully knelt before her, took her hand, and kissed it.

The moonlight reflected off his long lashes, making them sparkle.

As she finally grasped the situation, her face flushed so red she felt steam might rise from her head.

“W-W-What?! (His face… is too perfect!)”

“My name is Skia. Nice to meet you… fiancée.”

“Wait, no—”

“Oh, I know. I’m just joking.”

The moment he revealed his name, the contract was sealed.

Mistia felt warmth spread through her chest.

The proof of their bond.

“You can make expressions like that too. Interesting.”

With the contract complete, the spirit who called himself Skia stood up and spoke.

Realizing he had understood that her proposal wasn’t serious, Mistia let out a relieved sigh.

“Oh, right. Since we’re now contracted, can I ask you for something in return?”

“If it’s within my power.”

His sculpted lips curved into a slow smile.

For some reason, it sent a chill down her spine.

“Smile for me. Be kind to me.”

“…Huh?”

“It’s simple, isn’t it?”

Her first thought was: Why? What’s the point?

But she owed him her life, so she couldn’t be rude.

If it was just a game to him, she might as well play along.

“…Fine. I’m not good at smiling, but I’ll smile and be kind to you.”

“—I’m delighted, Mistia. Let’s practice now.”

His voice was gentle.

Then, Skia spread his arms wide toward her.

A breathtakingly beautiful man, gazing at her warmly.

Mistia, confused, looked up at him.

Even under her cold, doll-like stare, he remained cheerful.

Strangely, she found that… comforting.