This Time, I Am A Mob's Potions Teacher Who Has Become Engaged To The Mastermind Of The Otome Game - 9
“Hold this end, Noel.”
“Got it. You want it hung around here?”
“Yes.”
The main day of the Winter Star Festival had arrived, and Noel and I were busy with the preparations.
Noel had come early in the morning to help decorate the classroom.
“—ah.”
While holding up some decorations to put on the wall, Noel suddenly winced.
He gripped his right hand tightly, clearly in pain.
Just watching made my own hand ache in sympathy.
“Are you okay?! Did you cut yourself?”
“No, I just banged it this morning and now it’s acting up. It’s nothing.”
He said it was nothing, but he was hiding the back of his hand, refusing to let me see it.
That made him seem like a child trying to hide something, and it only made me more suspicious.
“Let me see. If it’s an injury, you need to treat it quickly or it won’t heal properly.”
He’s always going on about how I shouldn’t do anything reckless, and yet here he is ignoring his own injuries?
Noel still wouldn’t show me his hand, so I had no choice but to grab it myself.
“Leticia, wait—”
“I will not!”
When I pulled his hand toward me to take a look, I saw a large bruise on the back of it. But no matter how you looked at it, it was clearly more than just a bruise.
“…What kind of magic sigil is this?”
“…”
It was obviously the result of a curse.
Patterns like dragons and stars lined the mark—it was clearly a symbol meant to convey something.
This was the first time I’d seen an actual magical sigil used in a curse, but there’s no way a natural bruise would form in such a detailed design. There was no doubt.
“You used magic to hide it, but the effect wore off, didn’t it? It must hurt—so why did you keep quiet and hide it?”
“…Sorry.”
His guilty expression made me hesitate to press him any further.
“I’ll make a salve to ease the pain.”
“Thank you.”
That bruise, which almost resembled an emblem, had turned a dark bluish-black and didn’t look like it would heal easily.
He hadn’t shown any signs of pain before.
That must mean the mark appeared only recently.
And I couldn’t help but suspect—it must’ve happened during that business trip.
“Noel, what happened on the trip?”
“It’s classified. I can’t tell you.”
And… he’s right.
There are many classified aspects to the Magic Ministry’s work. I understand that it’s not ideal for an ordinary citizen like me to learn such things.
But even so, if it could keep him from following the same path as the Noel from the game, I want to know—at the very least, enough to help ease his pain.
Still, maybe… I haven’t earned enough of his trust yet.
That thought hurt—especially because I had started to believe that I was someone he did trust, at least a little.
“…Even so, I don’t want you to hide it when something hurts, or when you’re suffering.”
“Leticia…”
“Maybe you can’t trust me with everything yet—but I don’t want to just stand by and do nothing when I see you in pain.”
“That’s not it—it’s not that I don’t trust you…!”
Just as Noel reached out and grabbed my shoulders, the door burst open and Sara and the others walked in.
There I was, clearly feeling down, and Noel—gripping both my shoulders with a pleading look.
In short, their entrance timing couldn’t have been worse.
Awkward silence fell over the room, broken only by the quiet crackle of logs in the fireplace.
As I tried to escape into idle thoughts—like how dramatic it looked to have the heroine, a love interest, and the villainess all gathered in the same place—
“…Having a lover’s quarrel, are we?”
César teased, clearly enjoying himself far too much.
Actually, “teased” might be generous—he was practically reveling in it.
At this point, he’s gone beyond evil-glasses and straight into full-on devil mode.
As the tension lingered, Isabelle clapped her hands and stepped forward.
“Alright, everyone. Let’s divide the tasks and get started with preparations.”
Thanks to her prompt leadership, the awkward air dispersed quickly, and everyone got to work preparing for the party.
Noel joined Alois, César, and Frederic in decorating the room, while I headed to the kitchen with Sara, Isabelle, and Dieter to bake the cake.
Just before stepping out of the classroom, I glanced back.
Noel was chatting casually with Alois, looking as if all the tension had vanished.
When César came up and whispered something in his ear, Noel turned red and gave him a playful shove.
He looked—for all the world—like a completely ordinary teacher.
A snapshot of the kind of normal, cherished school life I’d seen back in my previous life—where students looked up to their teachers and shared casual moments like these.
That’s why… even though I know that mark on his hand is a magical curse sigil, I still want to believe that it won’t be used to hurt anyone—especially not his students.