“I-It was m-my duel, but it was Lord Evernight who interfered. Y-You clearly said you d-didn’t care whether I lived or d-died…”
For some reason, he blamed his husband in front of everyone. Anya was confused. The honor duel, which he thought would bring relief, was instead making the boy’s life even more complicated. He had rushed forward believing this would be the end, but now it felt like he had arrived at a crossroads with countless paths.
The surrounding knights watched them with looks that said, “Oh, look at this.” Riario and Sabelli were raising their voices, seemingly arguing on the platform. After lashing out, Anya realized there was no one to help him. He quickly shrunk at the man’s contemptuous gaze.
“Ugh…”
Evernight reached out and gripped Anya’s forearm. The leather armor was half-torn, scraped by sharp blades. His face instinctively grimaced.
“Show off within reason.”
Blood seeped from Anya’s arm where he gripped it tightly. Anya writhed in pain. Evernight roughly let go of his arm. Anya wondered if he might get slapped for talking back in front of others. Without realizing it, he looked down at the man’s hand, consumed by fear. His long, slender fingers resembled his lithe, well-proportioned physique.
Fortunately, that hand took no further action. Evernight simply organized everything around him with calm, cold eyes. Servants bustled about at his command.
Though Anya had much to say, he had to conclude this awkward and frightening silence by returning the sword, afraid of disturbing Evernight’s mood.
“The sword… th-thank you.”
“Keep it.”
Anya awkwardly fidgeted with the sword resting on his palm.
“N-No. It’s fine. I d-don’t need it a-anymore.”
He never wanted to participate in such an honor duel again. Evernight let out a small sigh, perhaps sensing the defiance inevitably contained in his words.
“Then throw it away.”
With those final words, Evernight walked past Anya. From the beginning, he seemed to regard Anya as an annoying, immature young nobleman with whom communication was impossible. It hurt his pride. Anya awkwardly held the strange sword with its thin, translucent blade compared to other swords. Even if he kept it…
“What a magnificent sword, Your Imperial Highness!”
Sisou came over and put his arm around Anya’s shoulders. Anya, who had been standing there deliberately looking away from the retreating figure of the man, was startled and shifted his gaze to Sisou.
Humming a tune, Sisou called to the remaining knights and the mage standing on the platform. Though he was an exceptionally sociable young man, such physical contact and interaction was very unfamiliar to the boy.
“I’m absolutely not interfering in your marital affairs.”
Sisou leaned his head down, still with his arm around Anya’s shoulders.
“If Rips Mohan hadn’t been killed, you probably would have died. At the last moment, he was cowardly trying to pick up his spear.”
Sisou’s whispered words particularly pierced Anya’s ears.
“H-He s-saved my life?”
Anya couldn’t understand Sisou’s words at all. So he had to ask again. Why would a man who claimed not to care about his death save him? Evernight clearly considered Anya a boring and troublesome existence.
“Ah… well. That’s what I’m saying. Even the Commander can’t interfere in an honor duel as a rule… but he, um, anyway…”
Sisou scratched his head and let out a foolish laugh. Karen grabbed Sisou by the nape of his neck and pulled him back, saying that was enough.
“Sabelli-nim, couldn’t you remove the blood with magic?”
Sisou called out to Sabelli, who was approaching from behind. The old man wore a very displeased expression, as did Riario who followed. Though Sabelli was sufficiently sympathetic to Anya’s condition, he drew a firm line in a resolute tone.
“If you use magic for everyday life, you’ll eventually become corrupted. There are times when you must follow the laws of nature.”
“And yet you…”
Riario was about to raise an objection toward Sabelli but glanced at Anya and closed his mouth.
“For now, Your Imperial Highness, go inside and rest. Magic…”
He let out a small sigh.
“I congratulate you on entering the path of hardship.”
* * *
Standing on the landing, Anya lingered for a long time. Servants hurriedly bowed and passed by at the sight of his appearance, covered in blood and filth. Perhaps because news of Anya’s victory had spread instantly, the servants acted somewhat more submissively than before.
Anya gathered his courage and climbed the remaining stairs. Passing through the corridor that was dark despite being daytime, he stood before his bedroom door. When he had opened this door and left at dawn today, he thought it would be the last time… Looking at the dark, deep brown door, his heart somehow fluttered. His hand gripping the cold metal doorknob was stained with blood in places, and his palm was terribly scraped.
Opening the door and entering, he found the tunic he had taken off this morning neatly placed on the bed, and the bedding was organized by the diligent hands of the maids.
“Ha…”
Anya let out a big sigh, as if releasing held breath. Only then did he feel the realization that he had returned alive, and the tension throughout his body released.
It was the strange sense of relief that only someone who had gone to the threshold of death and returned could feel. His boots, which had just stepped onto the wooden floor of the bedroom, halted hesitantly. Anya half-turned to look at the door opposite his own. It was Evernight’s bedroom. The sword given by Evernight hung loosely from his waist, as he had not yet properly attached the sword holder.
Anya stood before Evernight’s bedroom with somewhat slow steps. The boy raised his hand to knock, then slightly shook his head and lowered his hand again. While repeating this action several times, someone addressed him from behind.
“Master Anya. The lord is in the study.”
Anya turned around, startled. It was Gregos. Behind the butler stood an old man as aged as Sabelli.
“Let’s tend to your wounds first.”
The old man was a healer. Anya had no choice but to enter the room and show his wounds to the healer.
“Apply the ointment twice a day, morning and evening.”
This was the first time Anya had met a healer since entering the castle. The healer skillfully disinfected the wounds from the blades and wrapped them in bandages. After removing his clothes, not only did he have cuts from the blade, but his entire body was covered in blue bruises. When he got into the bathtub brought by the maids, he couldn’t help but cry out in pain.
The scars were similar to those he had gotten after being beaten by his brothers at the Imperial Palace, but while he had found them horrible then, now they somehow felt like medals. Anya touched his bruises while splashing in the water. Evernight also… had a large wound on his chest. With even these small injuries causing such aftereffects, had Evernight been alright then? Had he also considered them medals?
Anya rested his chin on the edge of the bathtub and thought of the man.
Just then, murmuring voices could be heard from outside.
“My lord, I will bring water for you to wash.”
“Later. I’m going to rest for a moment.”
Evernight had returned.
* * *
From that moment, all of Anya’s attention was directed outside the door.
“Tonight is the full moon. Let no one disturb him.”
Gregos’ stern voice commanding the servants, the heavy sound of the iron doorknob clanking, the swishing sound of skirts colliding as the servants’ footsteps faded away. Everything happened in an instant. True to Gregos’ words, the full moon hung eerily behind the window lattice, illuminating the main castle of Tildyen. Finally, even Gregos’ careful footsteps disappeared beyond.
Anya crouched with his knees together inside the wooden tub. The warm orange light created by the fire in the fireplace filled the room. Poking at the orange light beading on the water’s surface, the boy thought deeply about something.
‘Should I… thank him?’
But he didn’t have the courage to face him. Looking into those piercing eyes made him feel like the most useless person in the world.
‘But why… why did he save me?’
Not expressing gratitude to a benefactor might be the kind of behavior only those ignorant of honor would display.
‘I… don’t want to be like that…’
Having just won the honor duel, the boy was excessively emotionally elevated and his thinking was fixated in one direction.
Conflicting, ambivalent emotions crossed his mind. Anya glanced at the meal tray brought by the maid on the side table. People of Tildyen tended to drink warm wine like water to maintain body temperature. But after being badly affected that time in the banquet hall, Anya hadn’t gone anywhere near wine.
He had been contemplating in the water for so long that his fingers had swollen and wrinkled.
‘Even if I don’t want to, I have to do what needs to be done. I don’t know when I’ll see Lord Evernight again.’
He was a very busy man, and if not now, he might miss the opportunity forever. His fists, neatly placed under the water’s surface, clenched. By now, the candle in the lamp had melted halfway. Anya rose, awkwardly dried his bruise-covered body, and got dressed. He had already grabbed the doorknob, but ultimately returned to the side table with a deep sigh. After pacing for a while, Anya opened the wine cork and squeezed his eyes shut. The strong alcohol went down his throat in gulps.
“Ugh…”
His throat burned as if on fire. Having just finished bathing, his head spun and a languid feeling spread throughout his body. Anya wiped his lips with his sleeve and left the bedroom.
