🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 8
“Going out to greet a guest and ending up fighting monsters—have you lost your mind?”
“Battles are matters where every second counts. It was right for us to act before reinforcements could arrive.”
“You could have sent knights instead!”
“…I think you’ve forgotten, but I am a knight.”
Rune met the Marquis’s sharp gaze head-on and spoke clearly.
“It was my rightful duty, and something I was fully capable of doing.”
“You…! I don’t want to hear any more. You’ll be confined to quarters for the time being!”
At the Marquis’s icy voice, Rune only nodded briefly before calmly replying.
“Will that be enough?”
Since her daily life wouldn’t change much anyway, such confinement didn’t surprise her. In fact, the punishment was merciful, considering her sword wasn’t being taken away.
“I’ll also stay away from dinner so you won’t have to present such an unworthy heir before others.”
“You…!”
“Please explain my long-standing illness to Lord Cailian on my behalf. Then, if you’ll excuse me.”
With a step back and a bow, Rune left the office at once. She had intended to report about the black powder by the ramparts, but she knew that now it would only further raise her father’s voice.
‘Maybe it’d be better to go through Humphrey instead.’
She sighed heavily as she walked away.
“Your ‘long-standing illness’—do you mean that fever?”
A low voice came from behind. Turning, she saw Cailian leaning casually against the corridor wall, watching her steadily.
‘He heard all that.’
Remembering the conversation just moments ago, Rune felt a deep sense of dismay.
‘Of all people, why did it have to be Lord Cailian…’
Cailian Heraith was an object of admiration and envy to anyone who walked the path of knighthood. She was no different.
Successor to the Marquis of Este, a magic knight, and the youngest ever in the empire to earn such renown—Cailian’s reputation preceded him. And today, she had even witnessed his swordsmanship with her own eyes.
He belonged to a completely different world than she did.
And so, every time she stood before him, she couldn’t help but feel small. She was ashamed of being unrecognized by her father, shut away in the fortress instead of attending the academy.
Perhaps it was even better that he didn’t remember her.
If he had, she would have been crushed beneath the weight of her own inferiority, tormented all the more by the distance between them.
“Are you still unwell?”
“As you can see, I’m not.”
Her cheeks flushed red as Rune bit her lower lip. Forcing her expression into composure, she asked awkwardly,
“Weren’t you here to see my father? You should go in.”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
He brushed past her, walking a few steps ahead before turning slowly. His still-damp black hair tumbled across his straight forehead.
“I’m hungry. Where do you usually eat around here?”
Twenty years old—unlike her, fully an adult. Dressed simply in a tunic, he gave off an ambiguous air, somewhere between man and boy.
Unlike the overwhelming impression he made in armor, his fresh, handsome face almost seemed mischievous, like that of a youth.
Staring blankly at him, Rune forced down the tangle of feelings in her chest and nodded. But she couldn’t hide the redness on her face.
“I’ll guide you.”
Yes, this was purely a matter of responsibility.
Since she had failed to properly greet him on arrival, she ought at least to show him around the fortress.
A little later, Rune found herself staring in surprise at the man walking ahead.
“…You already know the way?”
For someone who had asked her to guide him, Cailian showed not the slightest hesitation.
“Well, my memory isn’t exactly whole, you know.”
His reply left her at a loss for words. Rune chose to simply follow quietly. He must have been rather displeased at not remembering her.
Already, he was striding confidently toward the central dining hall.
‘So it’s true, then—he must have visited the Marquis’s estate often.’
Beyond the windows, the last red glow of sunset gave way to a bluish darkness. Soon, the crescent moon would rise. Servants bustled about, lighting the lanterns in the halls.
Cailian’s lengthened shadow overlapped with hers. Following the shadow with her eyes, Rune found herself gazing at his back—the same solid back that had stood against her at the outer wall.
“You. That was dangerous.”
‘Back then, I almost remembered something…’
Rune couldn’t take her eyes off him.
Through the thin tunic, the contours of a well-trained body were clear. Broad shoulders, a strong back that tapered into a lean waist.
One might exaggerate and say his body looked as though sculpted by the gods themselves.
His thighs, too, moved with dynamic tension, muscles flexing and relaxing with each step.
Even in such simple motion, his strength was undeniable.
“You’re staring holes through me.”
Cailian glanced back with a faint smile. Rune’s face blazed red—her eyes had been resting just at his thighs.
“I—I wasn’t looking!”
“What weren’t you looking at?”
Rune bit her lip in frustration, unable to speak. Cailian chuckled softly and turned forward again. She narrowed her eyes at him.
‘Does he have eyes in the back of his head?’
Just how many times today had she embarrassed herself before him?
Earlier, too—covered in blood and filth, she had returned to the fortress and scrubbed herself raw with scented soap. The sight of her drenched in monster gore must have disgusted him.
Instead of recognizing him as a guest, she had pointed a dagger at his throat. Then she had argued with her father in his presence.
And now she had even been caught staring absent-mindedly.
‘This is the worst.’
Pressing her flushed cheeks with the back of her hand, Rune sighed.
Noticing the growing distance between them, Cailian turned back.
“Why aren’t you keeping up?”
“…Why aren’t you keeping up? Hurry.”
At the voice overlapping in her mind, Rune froze.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m coming.”
She quickened her pace, tilting her head slightly.
‘What was that again?’
The strange déjà vu she had felt when first meeting him returned. Lost in thought, Rune nearly walked straight into the shadow before her.
“…Ah! Sorry.”
Her forehead bumped squarely against Cailian’s chest. Startled, she looked up.
“Still as absent-minded as ever.”
“…?”
His hand reached toward her face. Before she could react, his large hand ruffled her hair mercilessly.
“Ah!”
Losing balance, Rune instinctively pushed against his chest. The impact made a sharp sound.
Surprised by her unexpected reaction, Cailian’s eyes widened briefly before narrowing again.
“This is… well…”
More startled than him, Rune fumbled, trying to fix her disheveled hair.
“W-what do you think you’re doing?”
Yes, she had walked into him—but for a stranger to suddenly touch her head? Anyone would have reacted that way.
“If I startled you, then I apologize.”
He shrugged, tilting his head with a playful look, as if her fluster amused him.
“…Though I admit, that did sting a little.”
He rubbed his chest lightly in mock complaint, his smile teasing.
And yet, for some reason, that faintly bitter smile sent a sharp ache through her chest. She couldn’t explain why.
At the dining hall, a waiting servant opened the door for them.
“May you have a pleasant evening.”
As Rune offered a polite bow, Cailian paused at the entrance and glanced back.
“You truly don’t intend to attend?”
“It will be more comfortable that way.”
Her calm reply reminded him of the Marquis’s ever-displeased expression whenever he looked at his son.
‘I see.’
He gazed at Rune, still standing in the dim corridor. Unlike the brightly lit hall with its chandeliers, where Rune stood was shadowed despite the lanterns.
Just like always—hidden in his father’s shadow.
Frowning, Cailian muttered under his breath.
“At times like this… you really are the same as ever.”
“…Pardon?”
“Nothing. Forget it. You may go.”
“Yes, then.”
Rune bowed neatly and walked away, slowly disappearing down the hall. Only once her figure had vanished did Cailian step inside.
At the long table laden with food, the Dark Knights who had arrived earlier sat in a row. They started to rise, but Cailian waved them down and took his seat at the head, as guided by the servant.
Dipping his hands in the water bowl brought, he wiped them on a napkin, thoughts drifting.
‘Am I out of my mind?’
Just moments ago, he had nearly seized her hand to pull her into the light.
Seeing Rune standing in that shadowed corridor had stirred a strange impulse within him. The thought was so unlike him, he almost laughed.
Beside him, Ethan leaned closer, grinning mischievously.
“Back in the empire at last—our lord seems in high spirits. Smiling quite a bit these days, aren’t you?”
“Me?”
Smiling… Now that he thought about it, he had been smiling a lot since meeting Rune again.
“Ah, yes. Even right now.”
Ethan had meant to tease him, but instead wore a horrified look, as though he had witnessed something unthinkable.
‘Good heavens… Cailian Heraith, smiling like that? I’d rather see him angry. It’d be better for my health.’
Just earlier, he had been unable to suppress his anger—yet now he smiled so lightly, it sent chills down Ethan’s spine.
It was rare for Cailian to display such emotion. Normally detached, he remained composed even in battle.
If he ever smiled, it was usually derisive or mocking—nothing like this oddly warm expression.
‘He really must be suffering heatstroke.’
With a grave look, Ethan tilted his head.
The dining hall was filled with the clink of cutlery. The rich aromas of spiced, savory dishes showed just how much effort the chefs had put into the meal.
Ethan was perfectly satisfied, enjoying such a flawless dinner after so long—except for Cailian, who kept drifting into thought and wearing inexplicable smiles.
At times, his brows would furrow, then he would suddenly chuckle.
And that faintly warm smile that kept appearing since earlier… it was unbearable to watch.
Feeling as if he might get indigestion, Ethan slowly set down his fork.
Without a doubt—this had to be heatstroke.
