The enormous ducal residence in the capital.
Black drapes still hung throughout the mansion, and not a trace of red could be found among the flowers in the garden.
As though someone were departing for a faraway place, servants and attendants alike flooded out into the garden.
“Come back safely. Wherever you go...”
The girl began stiffly, then bit down on her lip.
“Ah, Lady Coco! You can’t keep biting your lips while I’m gone! What if those pretty lips scar? You have to take proper care of yourself! A woman should always— huh?”
Kirky, who had been babbling nonsense while slowly edging away in an attempt to escape, suddenly stopped speaking.
Strange. Around this point, Lady Coco should’ve exploded in anger. There should’ve been shouting and flying fists by now, but everything remained quiet.
And then, from somewhere nearby, came the unmistakable sound of sniffling.
Coco’s personal maid had burst into tears.
“Hic...”
“Don’t cry! Why are you crying like it’s bad luck? I’ll be back soon enough!”
“I-I’m sorry, my lady...”
“H-Huh?”
Normally Coco would have comforted her maid, but now there was not the slightest trace of composure left in her. Kirky carefully watched the sharp atmosphere surrounding her.
“I told you already, it’s not that serious! Everything is according to the will of the gods—”
Forget the gods. Just come back alive.
Coco could not quite bring herself to say that outright in front of a devout priest.
“Enough. Just come back properly. Don’t forget there’s a place waiting for you to return to. Kirky, you know how long I hold grudges, don’t you?”
Coco glared at him fiercely. But the only thing in her purple eyes was worry, and there was no way Kirky could miss her sincerity.
He bent slightly to meet her gaze and flashed a playful grin.
“Of course, Lady Coco. The place I’ll return to is with a bad-tempered young lad— agh! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Lady Coco! Aaagh!”
“Kirky! You little— Get back here!”
In the end, Kirky successfully provoked Coco exactly as he intended. Coco’s eyes flashed as she chased after him, but Kirky was far too skilled at running away to be caught easily.
Seton and Hugh watched the two of them.
“It’ll be alright, won’t it?”
Hugh asked worriedly.
“It has to be. Did you contact the High Priest?”
“We’re waiting for a reply. I don’t understand the royal castle’s actions. Why would they... ask Priest Kirky directly instead of going through the temple? And why didn’t he refuse? The royal castle wouldn’t retaliate over something like this.”
A frightening statement came from Hugh’s mouth.
“Probably not. But they wouldn’t have asked unless they’d already prepared for the possibility of refusal. They likely had measures ready for that as well.”
If Duke Gannion were still alive, perhaps they could have handled things differently.
But only a single day had passed since the funeral. It would still take time before Coco fully secured the duke’s authority for herself.
The family signet gleamed on Coco’s finger. A magitech engineer had adjusted it, but even now, the ring still looked too large and heavy on her small hand.
“Will Ren be alright?”
Hugh’s expression darkened.
They had not told Coco, but Hugh and Seton were warriors. Though they had stepped away and could not hear the conversation itself, their sharpened senses had still picked up Ren’s presence.
The way his body had convulsed in agony...
Just what had that man said to him?
But neither Hugh nor Seton had the right to ask.
“For his sake, perhaps it’s better that Priest Kirky leaves for Media. It’s a complicated situation. Send another message to the temple. I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Yes.”
***
Ren could feel his body settling after the seizure.
Should he be relieved it ended at this level?
Or was this merely the warning sign before an even worse attack?
At this point, he could no longer predict anything properly.
His body had been broken from the very beginning. Even the warning signs and intervals he had once barely been able to estimate had become impossible to guess now.
‘The time’s really come to prepare for death.’
Ren had no idea how much longer his life would last.
He often forgot that he was only surviving because of the old man’s medicine, but there was no guarantee it could continue forever.
Maybe he had grown far too complacent.
A body that could no longer remember what health felt like had eventually grown accustomed to a condition no one should ever adapt to.
Even while suffering pain, Ren no longer fully recognized it as pain.
“Hmm. You don’t look well...”
“Huh? What did you say?”
“Uh... want me to carry you?”
Like this.
Unless someone else pointed it out to him, Ren no longer even recognized his own condition properly.
Only after hearing Verdi’s words did Ren realize how bad he actually felt.
The two of them were taking a walk through the garden. Verdi had recovered at a shocking pace, while Ren looked more like the patient.
“I’ll carry you. Come on.”
Verdi bent his back naturally, as though he did not doubt for even a second that Ren would accept.
Faced with such matter-of-fact behavior, Ren could not even get angry.
After hesitating for a moment, he finally climbed onto Verdi’s back.
“This is much better.”
“I’m the one being carried, so why are you the one saying that?”
“Because you looked like you were about to stop breathing beside me. It was making me nervous.”
His tone was light, and the emotions behind it were equally faint.
That casual attitude put Ren at ease.
The naturalness of it. The unconscious care. Verdi worried about him and looked after him, yet the feelings he held toward Ren stopped at nothing more than mild affection.
Kind, but with clear boundaries.
For the first time in a long while, Ren felt comfortable around someone.
Looping his arms around Verdi’s neck, Ren drifted into thought.
“Oh, they’re growing nicely. This is what I actually came to see. These flowers don’t bloom on the western continent. Ridiculous as it sounds, I ended up missing them during my travels.”
Verdi’s cheerful voice was nothing like the Hero Ren had imagined.
Maybe it was because the first thing he had seen was Verdi injured like an ordinary man, barely breathing.
Having seen Verdi’s weakness, Ren no longer felt resistance toward Verdi seeing his own.
Rather than a Hero, Verdi felt more like a kind neighbor.
Without realizing it, Ren buried his face against Verdi’s back and rubbed against him slightly.
Like a puppy or cat rubbing affectionately against someone they liked.
Startled by the sudden movement, Verdi’s muscles tensed before he slowly exhaled.
“...Cute.”
He murmured it quietly only after confirming Ren had fallen asleep.
Even then, Verdi worried Ren might somehow hear him.
The ears of the man carrying Ren had turned bright red.
He had always loved cute things.
Ren was more beautiful than cute, but after talking with him several times, Verdi had decided he needed to revise that opinion.
Ren was incredibly cute.
And beautiful too.
Though perhaps those were basically the same thing.
“Seriously... what are you plotting?”
Verdi, whose nerves were absurdly thick, did not care much about the sword that had torn through his abdomen or the person wielding it.
That blade had not been aimed at Verdi personally out of hatred.
It had been aimed at the Kingdom of Setoran itself— at the sharp fangs of Ragniel.
What interested him more was Giselle’s intentions.
There was definitely a reason Giselle was keeping Ren inside the royal castle.
It could not simply be because he was Temar’s younger brother.
Carrying the unusually light Ren on his back, Verdi deliberately continued along paths touched by sunlight.
At one point he even borrowed a blanket from a maid and wrapped Ren in it while carrying him around, but whatever gossip spread among the maids afterward was none of Verdi’s concern.
Though later that evening, he did have to deal with Ren’s irritation after he woke up.
***
“Ren! I was worried about you.”
Only after seeing Ren again did Jepeto finally look relieved.
It was not until after dinner that he managed to see him.
The royal castle had not forbidden the meeting. This had been Jepeto’s own judgment. After everything that happened, he believed Ren needed time alone to gather himself.
Though that judgment also rested on the assumption that Ren could no longer disappear silently the way he had at the inn.
“I’m perfectly fine, so what’s there to worry about?”
Embarrassment tinged Ren’s voice.
“You’re not hurting anywhere, are you?”
Jepeto asked carefully.
“No.”
Ren answered firmly, but instead of believing him, Jepeto only became more worried. A boy who had hidden his illness from the start was hardly likely to speak honestly now.
“Where’s the old man?”
“He said there are medicinal ingredients he needs.”
“...”
Ren’s complexion darkened.
Hopefully they weren’t for him.
They might become useless soon anyway.
Ren picked up the mirror sitting on the table and examined his reflection. Jepeto looked bewildered by the sudden action.
The Ren reflected in the mirror was pale, but otherwise looked as usual. No cold sweat. No deathly pallor.
“How’s the atmosphere in the capital? Are people still making a fuss over the prophecy?”
Apparently staring into a mirror out of nowhere looked strange.
Trying to divert Jepeto’s attention, Ren threw out the question carelessly.
Unexpectedly, though, Jepeto seemed to have been waiting for exactly this topic. As if he had hoped Ren would ask, words immediately poured from his mouth without pause.
“I’d actually been wanting to talk about that...”
