I sat there, trying to process the absurdity of my situation. I knew all about Miyandrel's infamous track record—war crimes, betrayal, and a general attitude of "my life is so unfair" that made me want to roll my eyes. The fact that she was hiding out here, pretending to be my cousin, was no coincidence. She needed a place to lay low, and what better spot than my quiet, nobody-cares estate in the middle of nowhere?
I mean, I'm just a side character, right? I made it to the epilogue of the story by avoiding all the drama, and now this? No way was I getting sucked into whatever chaos she was brewing.
I needed to shut this down. Fast.
Mia leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You're a fascinating creature, Randel," she purred, clearly enjoying my discomfort.
I gave her my best "leave me alone" look. "I want you out of my estate," I said, trying to sound like I had some control over the situation.
But she just laughed, like I'd said something adorable. "You cannot. I've already done the paperwork. And the people here? They love me. You wouldn't want them to get upset, now would you? That would be troublesome even for someone whose Destiny is as thick as yours." She winked. "Get it? Thick?"
I stared at her, deadpan. "Great. Now my Destiny has body shaming issues."
I blinked. Did she seriously just—no, I wasn't even going to acknowledge that innuendo. This was getting more ridiculous by the second.
"Yes, thick, sure," I said flatly, trying to keep my composure while mentally calculating the fastest route out of this nightmare. How had my life come to this? Sitting across from a wanted war criminal with a weird flirtation habit and a way-too-casual attitude about taking over my estate. And here I thought avoiding the main plot would keep things simple.
Miyandrel—Mia, whatever—leaned back in her chair, smug as ever. "You know," she continued, "this could be a mutually beneficial arrangement. I hide here, you pretend I'm your beloved long-lost cousin, and in exchange, I might... I don't know, make your life a little more exciting."
I rubbed my temples. "Mia, the last thing I want is for my life to be more exciting. I'm aiming for dull, boring, forgettable. Maybe even a little lazy, if I'm lucky."
She smiled sweetly, the kind of smile that spelled disaster. "Oh, but that's not what Destiny has in store for you, is it? You're just too... intriguing to leave alone."
Intriguing? That was a fancy word for "in danger of being killed by association." I could already picture it—getting dragged into her mess, wanted posters with my face plastered across the kingdom, the local peasants gossiping about the "strangely thick-fated lord" who harbored a notorious war criminal. No thanks.
"I really, really want you out of my estate," I repeated, my voice taking on a pleading edge now.
Mia just grinned. "Sorry, darling, but I think I'll be staying for a while. Besides, it's fun watching you squirm."
This lady was such a villainess, I swear!
I sighed inwardly, already too familiar with Miyandrel's weird sense of humor. In the novel, she always had this odd quirk about her, making jokes that no one else found funny except, apparently, herself. "I don't know about this 'Destiny' talk, but I do know that Fatemancers are well-known schemers, liars, and profiteers. That's why no one takes fortune-telling seriously anymore."
"Ouch…" she pouted, but not without striking a seductive pose. Her eyes lingered on me, making it clear that she wasn't going to let this go so easily. Miyandrel—no, Mia—seemed to enjoy every bit of my discomfort.
I could feel my patience wearing thin. Her advances were growing more obvious, and I was getting more annoyed by the second. The entire setup—her showing up out of nowhere, pretending to be my distant cousin, and now throwing herself at me—reeked of manipulation. The worst part? I could see right through her. Last night was no accident; she'd planned this from the start, orchestrating everything with one goal: to get me in her bed.
And damn it, she succeeded.
The guilt gnawed at me. In the novel, Miyandrel was supposed to remain untouched—somehow, her virginity was tied to her ultimate tragic fate. Now, thanks to whatever had transpired, I'd derailed a major piece of the plot… or the ending if the context still mattered. I was just a side character, and the last thing I wanted was to become the guy responsible for a main character's romantic downfall.
Her sultry looks and suggestive remarks only heightened the awkward tension, making me feel like I was standing on the edge of a cliff. I muttered to myself, "And here I thought the epilogue was the end of it… I forgot about the possibility of side stories."
Miyandrel's smirk widened. "What was that, Randel?"
"Nothing," I replied quickly, standing up to create some much-needed distance between us. "Look, Mia, or whatever you want me to call you—this isn't going to work. I don't know what you're trying to pull, but I'm not getting tangled up in your… side story."
Her eyes twinkled with amusement. "You're already in it, Randel. Why fight it when Fate clearly has other plans for you?"
Plans? I had no interest in whatever plot twists Fate had in store for me. "I don't care what 'Fate' thinks," I shot back, irritation creeping into my voice. "It's my life, and I'm the one who decides what to do with it."
Mia's voice took on that sultry tone again. "I'll be obedient… Make me your wife. I'll do anything you want." Her eyes locked onto mine, dripping with flirtation, her lips curving into a coy smile.
I blinked, caught off guard by the sheer boldness of her proposal. "Are you that desperate?" I asked, trying to keep my composure. Desperation, I could deal with. But this was reaching new heights.
"Yes," she admitted, without even flinching.
I sighed. "That's… very honest of you," I muttered, both impressed and unnerved by how straightforward she was. It wasn't hard to see why she'd be so desperate. Almost the rest of the world wanted her dead, given the long list of crimes she'd racked up. I understood her need to hide, but no. This wasn't my problem. "How can I even help you?" I asked, leaning back in my chair. "I'm just some distant baron heir living in the boonies."
Mia smirked, her eyes narrowing as her lips curled into a sly smile. "That's exactly why," she said, leaning closer. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, sending a shiver down my spine. "You are the best camouflage I could ask for."
I frowned, confused. "Camouflage?"
Her expression softened, like she was explaining something obvious to a child. "I cannot read your Destiny because it's… strong," she admitted, her tone shifting to one of slight frustration. "But I've caught glimpses. And those glimpses, while limited, showed me something remarkable. For example..." She paused, her gaze growing more intense. "You have an insane obsession over normality. It's almost terrifying."
I felt my face flush at her blunt observation. I wasn't sure whether to be insulted or flattered that she'd figured me out so easily. "I don't have an obsession," I argued weakly, though even I didn't believe myself.
Mia tilted her head slightly, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Well, it's scary… but also kind of charming." The admission hung in the air between us, awkward yet strangely sincere.
In the world of Magnus, where magic saturated every corner and people called Sorcerers wielded mystical forces at their fingertips, Miyandrel Celeste was a name that carried weight. A top graduate of the prestigious Sorcerer Academy, her magical prowess was legendary, and her reputation was feared by many. Her name echoed through the halls of power, and her ambitions were as towering as the myths that surrounded her.
I, too, once walked the same halls. But unlike Miyandrel, I wanted nothing to do with the grandiose displays of power or the endless cycle of drama. I had been drawn into this world by the bizarre mechanics of transmigration, and the Academy? That had been the first warning sign. I quickly dropped out when I realized what was happening—the plotlines, the destiny, the constant tug of war between the main characters. No, thank you. I had an insane obsession with normality, and if that made me strange, so be it. I just wanted to be a side character, one that faded into the background, unnoticed.
As I sat across from Miyandrel now, her regal presence filling the room, I leaned forward, keeping my tone cold and detached. "Camouflage? Me?" I repeated, my voice sharp. "Elaborate."
I had to keep my distance, not just physically, but emotionally. If there was one thing I learned from my time in this world, it was that getting too involved meant trouble. Emulating Randel's stern demeanor—something I had grown accustomed to—was essential, even if it made me come off as abrasive. Better that than being sucked into the story.
Miyandrel, slightly thrown off by my tone, hesitated for a moment. But then, she composed herself, the playful flirtation replaced with something more solemn, more… melancholic. "My ambition in coming to the boonies was to disappear," she said quietly. "I want to fade into obscurity, to be forgotten by the world that has hunted me for so long."
Her words caught me off guard. I expected manipulation, not vulnerability. She continued, her eyes locking onto mine with a strange intensity. "It seems that our goals align in some way," she added. "You want a normal life, detached from the endless conflicts of this world. But Randel, conflict follows you like a shadow, whether you want it or not."
I felt a pang of frustration. "So what? You think hiding with me is the solution?" I scoffed, though part of me wondered if she wasn't entirely wrong. It wasn't like I could control the madness around me.
"Yes," she said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Because in your desperate attempts to be normal, you will become the perfect hiding place. No one would expect someone like me to hide with someone like you."
I sighed. There it was, the twisted logic of Magnus at work again.