RPEUC 06

“Don’t tell me you’re going to make me call you Father or something—”

“Michael. Call me Michael.”

“……Well, fine. Got it.”

As Michael straightened the crooked folds of Kanis’s pajamas, he continued,

“If I fail to change your mind by then, I’ll let you return to the Magic Tower.”

“That’s only obvious. And after that, do not appear before the Tower Master again.”

Michael, who had fallen silent, asked,

“Is it alright if I watch from afar?”

“Do you have any idea how sharp the Tower Master’s senses are? If you’re close enough for your eyes to see him, then the Tower Master will obviously notice too.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“You seriously expect me to believe that?”

“…….”

Kanis clapped his hands sharply.

“Then the contract is sealed.”

“Wait.”

“Why? If you’re scared, then feel free to back out.”

At that, one of Michael’s eyebrows twitched upward.

“If, on the contrary, those words come from your own mouth, will you fully cooperate to make sure Kanis Riventi does not hate me?”

For such a sharply delivered question, the content itself was surprisingly pitiful.

Kanis nodded readily.

“Of course! I guarantee it—I’ll personally make sure the two of you get married.”

Considering that he himself was one of the people involved, it might have been better not to make such bold guarantees, but……

“Good.”

By the time Kanis noticed the shift in Michael’s gaze, it was already too late.

Ah…… well…… it should be fine.

I just have to make sure I never say those words. How hard could that be?

Michael rose to his feet.

“You must be tired today, so get some rest.”

“I’m sleeping here?”

“Yes.”

Michael pressed down on the crown of Kanis’s head hard enough to make his eyes squeeze shut, thoroughly ruffling his hair before saying goodbye.

“See you tomorrow.”

With his hair now a complete mess, Kanis gave an uncertain nod.

And then, exactly at noon the next day, the two met in the dining hall for lunch.

And that was when it began.

On his way to work, Jehel witnessed something strange.

At the very hour when the chefs should have been busiest, they were all outside basking in the sunlight.

“What are you all doing out here?”

“Uh…… His Highness said he would use the kitchen.”

“Who?”

“His Highness.”

“Why?”

“Uh…….”

So Jehel went to the kitchen.

And there, an even stranger sight awaited him.

“Stop it! Stop cooking already!”

Kanis sat alone at a table piled high like a mountain with food, angrily shouting, while Michael ignored him and carried on a one-man show in front of the stove.

“Hey, who’s supposed to eat all this?!”

“But haven’t we not yet prepared even half the dishes you said you wanted earlier?”

“Y-You’re saying you’re going to cook all of that today?”

“Is there a problem?”

“…….”

Jehel heard it.

In a low voice, Kanis quietly muttered, “Crazy bastard……”

Honestly, even if he had shouted it, Michael would have had no right to protest.

Jehel, of course, had no idea that Kanis had lost the right to call Michael “crazy bastard” the night before.

Nor how many nights in the future Kanis would spend muttering those same words.

As if he had already sensed Jehel’s arrival, Kanis turned sharply toward him without surprise.

“Get over here and stop that lunatic.”

“What power do you think I have to stop him?”

“There’s got to be some kind of trick, isn’t there?”

“If I ever figured out a trick for stopping His Highness, he’d probably make me stay his aide for life, so I’ve never tried.”

“…….”

After giving Jehel a look that clearly said You’re unbelievable too, Kanis gestured toward the food covering the table.

“Then at least hand this stuff out to people. It’d be a waste.”

“But how did this even happen?”

“…….”

Kanis simply couldn’t bring himself to explain.

How was he supposed to admit that he had tried to make things difficult for Michael, only to end up making things difficult for himself instead?

‘I’m not eating bell peppers.’

At Kanis’s declaration, Michael—who had been about to take a bite—set down his spoon and smiled.

‘Then what would you like to eat?’

Kanis absolutely should not have started rattling off all kinds of dish names.

But then Michael had gone one step further and written every single one down.

Beside him, the head chef had worn the grim expression of a man quietly accepting the cruel fate soon to befall him.

So Kanis had snapped at Michael, asking whether he planned to show off using other people’s labor, and what the point of writing it all down was when he wasn’t even the one cooking.

Without a word, Michael had stood up and started rolling up his sleeves.

Following his movement upward with his eyes, Kanis had thought:

……No way?

And, naturally, this was the result.

Michael returned with yet another dish and forcibly squeezed it onto the already overflowing table.

Afraid Michael might head back to the stove again, Kanis waved his hand frantically.

“Fine, I get it, so stop already and come eat too. Give some to the servants as well.”

Michael, whose apron strings had been seized by Kanis’s hand, allowed himself to be dragged along and smiled faintly.

“Kanna, does this mean you admit this is enough?”

“Yes! I admit it, alright? Sit down already.”

Only after Michael grabbed a chair did Kanis finally breathe a sigh of relief.

“Then why not at least taste it? It shouldn’t be inedible.”

Michael turned the chair around and sat facing Kanis.

Crossing his legs and resting his chin on the arm he’d placed atop the table, he looked at Kanis with practiced ease.

It was such an obvious attempt to meet his gaze that Kanis didn’t even look his way.

“Kanna. Why won’t you look at me?”

“Maybe because he doesn’t want to.”

Ignoring Jehel’s interruption entirely, Michael pressed his index finger to the outside of the soup bowl.

“It seems to have cooled a little. I should reheat it.”

“Just try standing up.”

At last, Kanis shot him a fierce glare, and Michael grinned.

He looked like the kind of man who should legally be banned from doing anything except committing crimes and consuming unhealthy substances—but in reality, cooking was his hobby, and sometimes he smiled like that.

What kind of smile was it?

Well…… how to put it.

Simply… as though he was genuinely happy.

Yes.

It was the face of someone smiling without even realizing it himself.

Michael often smiled that way when looking at Kanis.

Just now, his expression looked exactly like that time.

Kanis abruptly turned his head away again.

Whatever that is, it absolutely cannot be good for my health.

Yes, rather than doing harmful things to him, Michael’s very existence itself was harmful.

But simply letting it go filled Kanis with frustration.

He had to pick a fight somehow.

The problem was, he had almost no experience picking fights with people.

Usually, when Kanis Riventi encountered something annoying, he killed it.

There was no need to provoke or argue.

Most of the time, it was a monster.

Then what was he supposed to do to see that bastard’s face twist in embarrassment?

As Kanis sank into this somewhat corrupted desire—far removed from his original purpose—Jehel casually asked,

“Your Highness, can I pack some of this to take home? I think my niece would like it.”

“If Kanna says yes.”

“Take it.”

“Awesome.”

After about three days, the servants of the Crown Prince’s Palace had become accustomed to scenes like this.

Everywhere they went, they could see Kanis angrily shouting about something, veins bulging in his neck, while the Crown Prince worked diligently in front of him despite being scolded.

Of course, the servants interpreted this scene as something along the lines of “a shy daughter being doted on by her father.”

“They seem close.”

“They really do. I suppose blood really does call to blood.”

Whenever Jehel overheard such comments while walking through the halls, he had to stop for a moment out of sheer disbelief.

Apparently, in this entire palace, the only two people who hadn’t fallen for Michael’s lie were Kanna himself and Jehel.

But the one most responsible for strengthening the servants’ belief was none other than Kanna’s own behavior.

Since there had not been a child in the Imperial Palace since Michael himself had grown up, the servants treated Kanna with exceptional care.

Politely. Carefully. Kindly.

And Kanna, more than anything, absolutely could not endure it.

If someone even tried to wipe his mouth, he recoiled in horror and jerked his head away.

If someone gently pulled a blanket over him at night, he woke immediately with an uncomfortable expression.

Once, half-asleep, he had even looked up at a servant checking on him and momentarily wondered whether they were a monster or not.

As this happened repeatedly, Kanna first began pretending not to notice the servants.

Eventually, he started actively avoiding them.

And so, whenever the servants saw “shy” Kanna loudly yelling and “playing” with his biological father Michael, they soothed themselves by thinking, As expected, blood really is blood.

Jehel, who had come to deliver official documents for Michael’s approval, casually broached the topic.

“By the way, Your Highness, are you aware that Kanna keeps avoiding the servants?”

“I know.”

“You and I seem fine around him, so why only the servants? Is it because he feels awkward being waited on?”

As Michael handed the signed documents back to Jehel, he replied,

“He just doesn’t know what to do with other people’s kindness.”

“What?”

“He really didn’t need to inherit even that.”

At that point, Jehel sighed in understanding.

“You mean the Tower Master.”

“The habit of quietly disappearing the more warmly people welcome him—it’s exactly the same.”

Since Kanna and Kanis were the same person, the two of them were discussing something perfectly obvious with complete seriousness.