TGHB 48

Chapter 205

Night had long fallen, but the imperial ball showed no sign of cooling down.

If anything, since the event was expected to continue until early morning, one could say the real festivities were only just beginning.

Parties hosted by the Imperial Family always stirred up countless topics and were loud and lively, but today was especially unusual.

Tonight, people’s attention wasn’t on the ever‑popular Empress Azeni… nor on Lord Sirua, who rarely appeared before nobles or the public… nor even on the friendly, adorable Prince Therion, beloved by all.

It was on the one who had voluntarily gone to the Northern Fortress to protect Albrecht’s citizens from monster threats and safely returned—as the front page of the newspaper put it in bold.

The future of the nation.

The Crown Prince, Pession, was the star of the night.

“Your Highness, good evening.”

“Good evening, Lady.”

Pession greeted them flawlessly, without the slightest hint that he noticed the burdensome gazes fixated on him. His demeanor remained elegant and his smile perfect.

“There will be another victim soon…”

Clicking his tongue, Sirua—who had been hiding in a corner just to avoid being bothered and was watching his relative’s social performance—sighed.

As expected, the young ladies who were initially captivated by Pession’s smile gradually retreated one by one, as if pushed back by an invisible wall.

“Noona, try this! It’s delicious.”

“You eat it, Therion.”

“Where’s big brother? This one’s tasty.”

Therion, who had come to the ball only to demolish the finger foods, looked around while munching.

Sirua, who had been squeezing Therion’s soft cheek, also glanced around the ballroom.

Where did he go?

The ballroom was quite large, so Sirua was about to send someone to search when Pession finally returned.

“…?”

Sirua tilted his head. Pession was radiating a completely different energy from when he had left—a sluggish, ominous aura spreading from head to toe.

“Haha! Your Highness, good evening!”

Those who didn’t know Pession well didn’t notice the difference, continuing to approach him, greeting him, and trying desperately to create connections or at least leave an impression.

But Sirua knew.

Those people weren’t building connections—they were building negatives.

“Hm. What should I do.”

Normally Sirua wouldn’t care if others ruined themselves, but today it bothered him unusually.

Sigh… I’ll do a good deed for once.

✦ ✦ ✦

Sirua stepped in and rescued Pession.

Though whether Pession was the one rescued or the person clinging to him was unclear.

Normally, Pession would have ignored everything and brushed people off, but perhaps he truly wasn’t in his right state—he followed Sirua obediently to a private room.

“Where’s Therion?”

“Huh? He was right here… maybe he went to get more food.”

Pession opened and closed his hand.

He frowned slightly at the lingering sensation on his palm.

Damn it.

As Pession pressed his forehead and ran a hand through his hair, Sirua narrowed his eyes, observing him closely.

It was the look of someone trying to determine whether the Crown Prince—usually the perfect heir—was about to explode like a ticking bomb.

“Did someone upset you? Your expression looks terrible.”

“No.”

“Riiight.”

“……”

Anyone could see something had happened, but Pession steadied his breathing.

Sirua considered pressing further but decided to leave him be.

When he used to walk around grinning, having everything handed to him effortlessly, he was simply annoying. But now he looked like someone who had rotted from the inside despite lacking nothing at all… and it was pitiable.

Meanwhile, completely unaware of Sirua’s thoughts, Pession closed his eyes and recalled what had happened just moments ago.

“Your Highness, I don’t understand what you mean.”

Her trembling eyes. The confusion swirling inside them. Her shaking voice.

If that was acting, the woman should have been an actress.

Then again, she could gain far more by seducing him than by acting, so that probably explained her behavior.

He had warned her not to dream foolish dreams and ended it cleanly, so he should have shaken it off and forgotten it.

But the irritation clinging to him refused to disappear. It scraped at his nerves like a thorn.

“Hah.”

A hollow laugh slipped through his fingers as he covered his face.

He was furious, yet he didn’t know how to vent this fury. The violent impulse he couldn’t completely suppress leaked out as killing intent.

“What are you doing? You’re going to kill someone like that.”

“……”

“Relax your eyes a little. It’s scary.”

“…Rather.”

Maybe he should have actually killed her.

Then maybe she wouldn’t be bothering him this much.

If he’d known sparing her would annoy him this badly—

Pession bit his lip, the strange discomfort gnawing at his nerves far worse than the pain from his bitten lips.

“Hah.”

He ruffled his hair roughly. As he loosened his tight necktie and threw off his jacket, Sirua’s expression grew even more serious.

“If you’re sane, stop overthinking. If you’re going out, then go.”

“Ahem. You noticed?”

Embarrassed, Sirua cleared his throat and scolded Pession instead.

“Honestly, you know you look like a lunatic right now, right?”

“……”

Pession didn’t deny it.

Or rather—he couldn’t deny it.

“What on earth is wrong with you? What bothered you this time?”

“……”

What bothered him?

That woman looked too much like her.

The thought burst out before he could even hesitate, and belated shock hit him hard.

“Hah.”

Ha… damn it.

A powerful wave of disgust washed over him.

It felt like revulsion.

At a party he had attended only out of obligation, greeting people out of sheer formality… when he first noticed that blatantly intense gaze, his heart had dropped.

Because for a brief moment, he thought Arellin had truly come back to life.

He knew it was impossible, knew it was his delusion, a pointless hope, an unreachable dream—and denied it immediately.

But for the briefest instant, he had tasted a sweet dream, and the aftertaste was unbearably bitter.

“Seriously, did something happen?”

Perhaps sensing something truly unusual this time, Sirua couldn’t help but ask.

“No. Nothing much.”

“Hmmm…”

Sirua’s eyes brimmed with suspicion, but Pession offered no explanation or excuse. He merely lowered his gaze and sat with the turmoil inside him.

Everyone thought Pession wasn’t in his right mind—but Pession’s mind was perfectly clear then and now.

Too clear, in fact. That was the problem.

Because whenever he closed his eyes…

He always returned to that moment.

To the moment he watched Arellin’s quiet side‑profile as she gazed out the window.

No matter how desperately he wanted to escape it, forget it, move on… he always returned there.

Standing in that place again, seeing her again, knowing it was his memory—and yet…

Those irreversible times, those moments that would never return—were so precious, so achingly dear, that he was left wandering like a lost child.

Only after losing Arellin did Pession truly learn what loneliness was.

As he grew older, he understood the solitude she had carried.

Through her eyes, her gestures, sometimes her words… she had unknowingly shown him her exhaustion, her fear, her suffering, and her sharp, vivid pain.

And finally—

Pession came to understand the weight of the feelings she had once confessed to him, feelings he hadn’t understood back then.

Time passed.

But none of his memories faded. They remained painfully clear, so clear that waking up made reality feel like a dream.

“……”

Pession pressed down on his aching eyes with his palm.

His mind begged for rest, but his body—tempered beyond human limits—felt no fatigue.

Even constant battles didn’t tire him. Falling asleep from exhaustion had become rare, and even then he often awoke from nightmares.

And the more that happened, the faster his body grew stronger, as if forged by fire.

Has it already been fifteen years?

A long time if long, short if short. Each day was agonizingly long, yet a year passed in a blink. And that was how fifteen years had slipped by.

How much longer could he endure?

“…Arellin.”

I miss you.