“Oh, my.”
Anya, with his arms full of stacked books, bumped into someone while crossing the courtyard. Books spilled all over the floor. The impact sent Anya tumbling backward, landing hard on his bottom.
“Are you alright?”
Several men, whether formal knights or apprentices was unclear, stared blankly at the fallen Anya. Among them, a knight with a kind face extended his hand. Anya, embarrassed, lowered his gaze and took the offered hand. This was a rare act of kindness.
“Th-thank…!”
Just as he was about to stand up using the man’s hand as leverage, the man let go. Anya fell back onto the floor. It was a humiliatingly shameful sight.
“Oh my, it’s the master! We lowly Northerners dare not touch the hand of imperial royalty.”
The man covered his mouth with exaggerated theatrical flair and made a fuss.
“Can’t royalty get up without someone helping them?”
“Aren’t they the chosen race? They should stand on their own.”
The knights encircled Anya and giggled. Anya froze momentarily. Then instantly, his face turned bright red with shame.
“The master is still a man, isn’t he?”
“Oh, was that a male?”
“In the North, we wouldn’t consider that… a man. But I suppose if something’s hanging in the middle, it’s a man.”
They cast suggestive glances between Anya’s thighs. Mortified, he hurriedly closed his legs. Since his wedding night with Evernight, Anya felt repulsed even looking at his own genitals. Let alone having others stare at his private parts… it made him break into a cold sweat.
“I-I’m sorry.”
Anya fumbled across the cold gray stone slabs, picking up the books. He was hardened to such treatment from his time at the imperial palace, but it was unavoidably frightening and fresh each time. As he forcibly stuffed the books into his small, thin frame, they kept slipping out. The knights burst into mockery watching his struggle.
Enduring the humiliation, he tried to pick up the last book, but that same knight was stepping on its corner. Wet mud from the man’s boots soiled the book’s cover. Anya’s hand trembled with indignity as he reached for the book.
<All About Spirits>. Perhaps that book contained the name of the flame. Anya strained with all his might to pull the book free.
“Excuse me… the book, please.”
His voice trembled pathetically at the end. In situations like this, he should either quickly escape or remain silent. But escape was already impossible, so he could only endure in silence.
“What did you say, Your Highness the Prince?”
“My good man, can you understand what he’s saying?”
Another man mockingly cupped his ear.
“Hmm, with all that stuttering… I simply cannot understand what he’s saying.”
A sneer escaped between the man’s lips. Anya meekly knelt, desperately hoping they would soon grow bored of this situation.
This wasn’t the imperial palace but Tildyen. Nevertheless, the people here were beginning to act just like his brothers at the palace. This realization shocked Anya.
“Let’s go before it’s too late. Before Lord Sisou finishes all the food.”
Fortunately, their interest didn’t last long. They had expected the arrogant royal to writhe and fume, but this boy just knelt there with a lifeless face. Losing interest, the knights suppressed yawns and dispersed.
After they left, Anya carefully picked up the remaining book. The old tome, wrapped in dark green silk, had a terrible footprint on it. Anya tried to shake off the mud. He didn’t cry. But somehow, something welled up from deep in his chest. Again.
He thought of the flickering flame, the nameless forest, and Sabelli Nox sitting on the tree stump at the forest entrance.
Chapter 5. Honor Duel
The old tome had yellowed from neglect. Anya searched all day for the name of the forest spirit shaped like a flame but found nothing substantial. This was inevitable since the text stated that spirits change their appearance according to their contractor’s abilities. As far as he knew, the flame had no current contractor.
<A spirit forms a contract with only one human.>
Becoming dejected, Anya closed the book and perched on the windowsill. Outside the window, the sky had already darkened though he hadn’t even eaten dinner. Guards were walking around placing torches, and the stable keeper was finishing his daily routine, bolting the stable doors. The kitchen was busy preparing dinner. Everyone had their own tasks except him. Even though Sabelli Nox had clearly said he was a chosen one.
The next day, as soon as it was light, Anya headed toward the forest. Unfortunately, while crossing the yard, he encountered yesterday’s group of knights. Anya instinctively shrank back. He quickly turned to flee but soon found himself surrounded.
“Your Highness the Prince. How are you today?”
They stared intently at the robe and shoes Anya was wearing. Anya could tell what they were thinking. It was always like this at the imperial palace. The precious things he wore didn’t suit Anya. Would these men, like those at the palace, eventually take his possessions and hide them?
But this time was different. Their gaze seemed to burrow insistently beneath his clothes. This time he couldn’t read their thoughts, which made it more frightening. Instinctively, Anya turned and bolted. He didn’t get far before another man blocked his path.
“Where are you rushing to? Are we Northerners too lowly for you to even accept our greetings?”
Anya hastily covered his mouth with both hands to suppress a hiccup. There was a faint anger in the man’s words. Anya knew that expression well. What came next was predictable.
How dare someone like you ignore me!
His brothers at the imperial palace always shouted like that when Anya failed to respond properly. Then they would throw all sorts of objects and tie Anya to a wooden pillar for the entire day. Anya frantically waved his hands.
“N-no. J-just… I was j-just passing by.”
“Ah, I-I see.”
The man mimicked Anya’s stutter. The other knights burst into laughter. Mockery from unfamiliar faces rather than familiar ones was surprisingly more hurtful.
“No ability whatsoever, yet securing the position as the duke’s husband just because you’re royalty.”
The man’s chin was bristly from not shaving properly, and vulgar curses poured from between his chapped lips.
When Anya’s small lips parted slightly in shock, the man narrowed his eyes and spat on the ground.
“Filthy Claicer. We Tildyen people do not acknowledge you.”
All of this… was never something he had wanted. For the first time, Anya wanted to refute the man’s words. But sadly, his voice wouldn’t come out.
“How could I serve the filthy bloodline that killed my brother and parents?”
Another man beside him responded, grinding his teeth. Anya quietly clenched his fist. It was time for patience. If he endured and kept enduring, the pain would dilute and pass.
“Say something! My, what a man without honor!”
The angry shout seemed about to swallow Anya whole.
He needed to run away.
But why?
He was scared, but also questioned himself. He knew their families or colleagues had made countless sacrifices at the Wall, but that wasn’t Anya’s doing. Moreover, Anya would sell his heart to a witch if it meant he could tear out his bloodline. He despised the red blood flowing through his body more than anyone.
Suddenly, he grew tired of it all. No matter the place or the people, Anya was always subjected to deep hatred.
‘Don’t fear it, embrace it.’
A small voice whispered in his ear.
‘Don’t resist. Like flowing water.’
He heard it again. It sounded like Sabelli’s voice, or perhaps his own… or maybe the rustling of the forest. Anya tensed his eyes and looked up at the knights. His entire body trembled.
“…If I h-had a-ability, wh-what would you d-do?”
Sabelli Nox had clearly said he was a chosen one. He wanted to let these men know. No, he wanted to show everyone in Tildyen Rock.
They snorted.
“How will you prove that, little lord?”
The man beside him menacingly fondled the sword at his waist.
“Then let’s have an honor duel.”
The man then arrogantly threw out a proposal. The two characters forming ‘duel’ felt very unfamiliar. Anya hesitated. The men’s sharp gazes seemed ready to burst into mockery, as if to say, “See that?”
“Are you afraid?”
Anya clenched his fists, trying his best to stay calm. Nevertheless, a strange excitement made his voice rise at the end.
“N-no. I d-don’t mind!”
“At the end of the duel, someone must give their life. We don’t have meaningless duels with wooden swords like those honorless royals.”
As a warning, he slightly drew his sword from its sheath. The cold blade gleamed with a sharp light.
“Why aren’t you answering? You said you had abilities, was that a lie?”
Anya had always chosen to run away and resign himself out of fear of consequences. In truth, his inner voice had always been saying:
What value is there in a life not worth dying for, Anya? What do you want to do?
Perhaps it would be better to be buried in that nameless forest, wandering as a spirit with the flame.
