FYTE 21

Chapter  21

The second floor had five rooms, including bedrooms and a study, and with the attic on the third floor, the total came to six. It might have been an excuse she had given Sephiros, but Mirea hadn’t lied when she said the house was too big for her alone. Managing a large dining room and six rooms by herself was too much work.

As she opened each door one by one on the second floor, Mirea turned toward the sound of the creaking wooden floor. Aris had somehow already come up the stairs and was sticking his head out of the window at the end of the hall. After glancing at the dormer window protruding from the roof, he pulled his head back in and found the stairs leading up to the third floor.

“An attic?”

“Ah, yes. I don’t really use it as a bedroom, but I’ve left it empty anyway…”

“Great. I’ll take that room.”

Without giving her a choice, the guest had already claimed it. Mirea generously relented.

“I don’t mind, but the other rooms are cleaner. The biggest one even has its own bathroom, so it’d be more convenient. Don’t hesitate—pick whatever room you like.”

“No, I want that one. Don’t worry about it. That room suits me best. It’s kind of a Derkaid instinct, you know? Winged creatures prefer places closer to the sky.”

Though Aris spoke as if he were serious, Mirea could tell he was just teasing her again and replied primly:

“I’ve been meaning to tell you, your jokes aren’t funny.”

“Oh? Well, I think they’re funny.”

Chuckling, Aris darted away and climbed up to the attic. The truth was, there wasn’t any grand reason for choosing it. He simply thought it better, since he was living under the same roof with a woman, to use a room separated by a floor rather than share the same level. For him, shamelessness and maintaining a sense of courtesy were two separate matters.

The attic still had an old bed, as if it had once been used as a bedroom, and beside it stood a small wardrobe. Aris sprawled onto the bed. His mind churned with thoughts for a moment, but they quickly gave way to a much more basic need.

“I’m hungry.”

A few tea cookies were hardly enough to satisfy him. At the same time, Mirea, searching through the kitchen downstairs, realized there was absolutely no food in the house. Just as Aris came down the stairs with creaking steps, the two of them opened their mouths almost at once.

“Let’s go eat.”

“Buy me dinner.”

Mirea was taken aback at how brazenly he demanded it, but Aris knew full well that the money for his meals was really Sephiros’s anyway.

They left the house again. Besides, they needed to do some grocery shopping too. This time, instead of the bike, they boarded a tram at a stop one block away and headed downtown.

Roxan, a port city, wasn’t much of a big deal on its own. The peninsula nation of Serokin wasn’t large, but since ancient times it had been on the main routes of global trade, boasting many renowned ports.

Roxan, however, was one of the smaller ones and not particularly known for its port facilities. The only reason it had gained fame was because the headquarters of the Rashvalen Association were located in this small city. And in these times, when half the Loamena continent was contaminated or corroded, Roxan stood out even more, being one of the rare places in Serokin that still had an unspoiled blue sea.

Stepping off the tram in the city center, the smell of the sea filled the air. The bustling downtown was laid out with a fountain at its center: the harbor to the north, shops selling everything from necessities to knickknacks to the east, and restaurants clustered in the south.

Before they had gone far from the station, Aris was already distracted by the freshly caught seafood wriggling vigorously in stalls, until Mirea tugged him firmly toward the restaurant district. Having grown up here, she knew Roxan like the back of her hand and, of course, knew exactly where the best restaurants were.

“Is there anything you want to eat?”

“Since we’re here, how about something local?”

“Then seafood.”

With confidence, Mirea led him to the best seafood restaurant in town. It was expensive, and she had only dined there a handful of times before. But now that Sephiros was essentially footing the bill, it was the perfect place to enjoy a meal without guilt.

They were shown to the best table, and without even looking at the menu, ordered the daily special. As they waited, Aris expertly accepted a glass of light wine, first savoring its aroma before taking a sip to cleanse his palate. Watching him, Mirea thought to herself that he really did seem like a prince.

She wasn’t ignorant of table manners, but she usually preferred to just eat what was good rather than fuss about etiquette. Comparing herself to him, she reevaluated Aris, whom she had already found peculiar up to now.

What a strange guy.

Noticing her gaze, Aris turned to face her.

“What is it?”

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking.”

“If you think I’m strange, you can stare all you want. I don’t mind. But while you’re at it, could you at least compliment me on my looks? I don’t think I look that bad.”

Startled, Mirea hurried to deny it.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant—”

“Oh? So you do think I look bad?”

“No! That’s not it at all!”

“I see. So you really do think I look terrible. You must have pretty high standards, Mirea.”

As Aris went on theatrically lamenting, Mirea finally lost her patience and shouted:

“No! You’re handsome! Really handsome!”

“Thanks. You’re pretty too.”

Having gotten the answer he wanted, Aris returned the compliment, leaving Mirea with her head ducked in embarrassment, her cheeks burning. Watching him stifle a laugh at her reaction, she ground her teeth and forced out each word.

“I told you, your jokes aren’t funny.”

“Oh, it makes me sad that our sense of humor doesn’t match.”

He might have been teasing her, but he had meant it when he called her pretty. And even though she hated his jokes, at least they seemed to have lifted the gloom she’d been in earlier.

Then, Aris suddenly realized something odd: ever since Myren, he had been looking out for Mirea. He had been cheering her up with jokes, fussing over her when she seemed down. That wasn’t really his style at all—yet here he was, doing it naturally.

Wait a second—shouldn’t I be the one being looked after here? She’s the one who agreed to feed and house me, so why do I feel like I’m the one taking care of her?

Just then, the food arrived, sparing him from blurting out his indignation. While Aris quietly emptied his plate, Mirea was reinforcing her prejudices about nobles.

To think that aristocrats from other countries could toss out syrupy, over-the-top lines worthy of fairy-tale princes without batting an eye! To Mirea, Aris was suddenly oppressive to be around.

Serokin was a democratic republic; nobles had been abolished decades ago. For Mirea, this was her first time actually dealing with someone of supposedly high birth. Limited experience only made prejudices stronger.

And, half-coerced though her earlier words might have been, the truth was Aris really was good-looking. Each time she glanced at him, she couldn’t help but admit it. With his father from Luad and his mother from Myren, his mixed heritage gave him a unique air. Despite the rough paths he had walked, his skin was smooth and unscarred.

Of course—blue blood. It all makes sense.

So went Mirea’s internal rationalization, cementing her prejudices as facts.

But if Aris had overheard, he would’ve been exasperated. He was so far down the line of succession that even his own family often forgot he was royalty. His personality was simply shamelessness, not noble upbringing.

He had been that way since birth. Even his mother sometimes wondered how on earth such a personality had come from her belly. And his looks? He had lucked into them—taking some of his father’s decent features, then elevated by the beauty of his mother’s lineage.

Both still felt unsettled after their meal, so a walk to digest was much needed. They left the restaurant and headed toward the shopping district.

Their first stop was a clothing store. While buying Aris some clothes, Mirea insisted her picks were better, while Aris had his own tastes. The dispute was easily solved: buy both. After all, it was Sephiros’s money—they had no reason to be frugal!

Though there were a few clothes left at home, they were unsuitable. The clothes belonging to Mirea’s younger brother were too small, while her father’s were too big. They could serve in a pinch, but for daily wear, they were hardly fitting.

So Aris ended up buying an entirely new wardrobe, head to toe. Most were off-the-rack, but he had some things tailored as well. He even bought new goggles. They were useful in many ways—for concealing his face, and for shielding his eyes from the wind while flying. His old pair from Myren was worn out and needed replacing.

Next, they bought groceries and household essentials. The sheer amount turned out to be overwhelming, far more than they could carry, so they paid extra to have everything delivered home.

By the time they returned, both were exhausted from shopping. But there was no time to rest. Their purchases had already arrived ahead of them and were piled up at the house. They had to set to work unpacking and organizing everything right away.