The Second Night Market
"Wow! The smell of all this food is just vibrating through the air from every direction!"
"If heaven exists anywhere, it must surely be here! What an astounding place!"
Bar and Amon could hardly contain their wonder at the food stalls sprawled before them. The night market had exceeded their wildest imaginations. If they had returned to the Demon Realm without experiencing this, they knew they would regret it for the rest of their lives.
"Bar, Amon, why do you both have to be so country-bumpkin about it? Everyone's staring at us."
Rita scolded the two demons without the faintest recollection of how she herself had behaved just a few months ago.
The truth, however, was that the crowd's attention had nothing to do with their antics. Their group was simply impossible to miss.
Eli, the Academy's undisputed handsomest student who had even taken the imperial social scene by storm, stood out even in the bustle of a night market.
And that wasn't all. Quinn, being of the merfolk, bore uniquely shaped ears that turned every passerby's head at least once no matter where he went — and trailing after him as his honor guard were three more merfolk to boot.
Bayul and Aidan, meanwhile, radiated such effortless refinement at a glance that anyone could tell they were sons of great houses.
But nothing caught the eye quite like the emblem of the Full Moon Knight Order emblazoned across Ian's chest. After the incident some time ago, he refused to go anywhere without it. It was a kind of warning — do not dare cause trouble.
Those who recognized it bowed their heads in respect as they passed. It was a stark testament to just how far Duke Randert's reputation reached.
"Rita, you know how much Bar and Amon were looking forward to the night market. Let them enjoy it for now."
"Yeah! This is the biggest night market of the whole year. There's way more food and sights than last time, so you should have fun too, Rita!"
Aidan had once again appointed himself the group's guide. To a boy born and raised in Carrington, a night market like this was nothing less than a playground.
"Just stick with me!"
Chest puffed out, Aidan strutted along with more swagger than usual.
"I sent Logan a letter telling him to come to the night market. Do you think it got there safely?"
"Honestly, I couldn't care less whether that guy shows up or not. If he gets lost in this crowd, that's his problem. He'd better keep up."
At the mention of Logan, Aidan scrunched up his face and quickened his pace.
"Still, it would be nice if he came…."
Bayul's heart weighed heavy with the thought of everyone gathered together except Logan. Even if the letter had arrived safely, he worried the surging crowds would make it impossible to actually find each other.
"If he got it, he'll come. Besides, you should stop dwelling on that pain in your chest and enjoy yourself for once."
Eli clapped him on the shoulder as if he understood everything, offering quiet comfort. Bayul had tried his best not to let it show, but of course Eli was too perceptive for his own good. The truth was, he had barely slept since last night, that question gnawing at him.
"Quinn, you're really okay now, right?"
"Do I look sick to you?"
"No."
"Then why are you asking?"
"I just… am."
…Because I'm sorry.
Just as Quinn said, he had made a complete recovery in a single day. He was the only friend who had endured that agonizing ordeal alongside Bayul. He had already thanked him countless times, and yet it never felt like enough.
"Hey, keep making that face and Sir Ian's going to notice."
Out of consideration for Bayul and his friends, Ian was following a few steps behind. If Bayul still looked grim by the time they reached the night market, Ian would surely find it strange.
"And you seem to have forgotten something, Bayul — you're the one who suggested coming here. If you're the one who asked, then you're responsible for what follows, aren't you?"
"Ah… right, I did say that."
He'd said it partly to stop Quinn from heading home, but also out of a genuine desire to end the vacation on a high, joyful note.
Right. Let's not think about it now.
Not about the Spirit Stone. Not about the ache in his chest.
When it's time to play, you play.
"Aidan, wait up!"
Bayul called out to the boy ahead and hurried after him.
"Welcome to Vivian's Skewers!"
The first stop Aidan led the group to was 'Vivian's Skewers' — the very stall he had promised the Death brothers. As expected, the storefront was packed with customers lined up for a taste.
"Give me a second."
Aidan slipped through the crowd with the nimble grace of a flying squirrel and ducked behind the shop. It wasn't cutting in line — he had a reservation to make.
There were twelve of them, and the amount of skewers they intended to order was staggering. The promise to the Death brothers alone was for fifty. This was not a quantity you waited in line for.
"Vivian!"
By sheer luck, Vivian was inside. Where a woman her age found such strength, he'd never know — she was hauling an enormous vat piled high with skewers entirely on her own.
"Well, bless me! If it isn't our baby young master!"
"Give it here! I'll carry it!"
Aidan strode over and snatched the vat right out of her hands.
"Where do you want it?"
"Young master, what on earth are you doing! Give that back!"
"It's fine. Just tell me quick — where does it go?"
"No, really! Hand it to me at once!"
"Do you know how much luggage I've tossed out this vacation? This is nothing!"
Vivian had worked for the House of Leonett nearly her whole life. Just hearing that much, he could imagine how it had gone. Unable to argue with him, she shook her head and pointed to one side.
"Heave-ho! It's so light it doesn't take any effort at all! Anything else you need carried?"
"I'm fine, young master. Just tell me what you came to say. How many do you need?"
"Ooh, that's our Vivian. Sharp as a tack."
"I raised you on my back since you were a babe, young master. You think I wouldn't notice?"
Though she shot him a sidelong glance, her eyes were brimming with affection. Aidan slipped an arm around her shoulder and wheedled.
"I've got friends waiting outside. But they've got bottomless stomachs."
"How many came?"
"Twelve."
"Then about twenty should do it?"
"Not even close."
"Thirty?"
He shook his head.
"Forty — no, shall we make it fifty?"
"Vivian, have you gotten stingier since I last saw you?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"It's always 'eat as much as you want' until it's time to deliver! Why do you keep setting limits?"
"Aigoo, our madam grows older by the year and still acts the fool like this. Bring your friends around to the back. I'll set up a private space for you."
"Yes! Vivian, you're the best!"
Aidan whooped and enthusiastically nuzzled his cheek against hers.
"Oh, and Vivian? I ran away from home, by the way."
"…I beg your pardon?"
"So don't go telling people you saw me!"
With that warning, he dashed back outside to fetch his friends.
"As if I needed telling. The whole city will know regardless."
This was Aidan, after all. The moment he set foot in the night market, word spread — he was the beloved grandson of Count Leonett, whose name alone bought credit on sight. No doubt more than a few people had already recognized him on the way here.
"Our baby young master will grow up one of these days."
Vivian murmured to herself, then promptly ordered her staff to prepare a batch of special skewers.
After the skewers came donuts. Having gotten their first taste at the stall, the Death brothers now trailed after Aidan like ducklings. If exaggeration were permitted, one might say their eyes glittered so brightly they'd have played dead on command if he asked.
"You are in the young master's presence! Mind your manners!"
Rita scolded them every time they lost themselves in eating, but it worked only for a moment. In a night market awash with every imaginable delicacy, the three demon brothers periodically lost all reason.
The rest of the group wasn't quite that bad, but under Aidan's comfortable, expert guidance, Bayul and his friends threw themselves into the food and the festive atmosphere all the same. Bayul had been full of worry at first, but somewhere along the way those concerns had flown far away.
"Master, do you suppose I should try cooking with gloves on, like those humans do?"
With their bellies full, it was time to wander around with drinks in hand and take in the sights. While they waited at a beverage stall for their orders, Bar suddenly turned to Rita with a question.
"Absolutely not! As the saying goes, cooking is all in the hands! Only when the ingredients touch these hands can a dish reach its true flavor!"
Rita spread her palms wide with unmistakable pride.
"Rita, hold on a second."
Having been watching her absentmindedly, Bayul caught her wrist with startled eyes.
"What happened to your hands? They're far more chapped than before…?"
She was a girl of barely sixteen. And yet her hands alone looked as though they had lived twice that long. He wasn't asking for them to be pretty — but they were rougher even than his own, and he was a boy.
"Aw, this is like a medal of honor, that's what it is! Proof of how hard I've looked after you, young master!"
"What did you just say?"
Rita said it proudly, but Bayul couldn't bring himself to take it that way.
It was all because of him. In Hamilton, the work was at least divided up, but in Carrington, she had been handling everything herself, from the kitchen chores on down. That was how her hands had come to look like this.
*Haah. I should have taken better care of her.*
"That settles it. We're going to buy you gloves."
"…I'm sorry, what?"
"If you wear gloves like those people do, it'll be better."
"Young master, no, I'm really fine—"
"I'm not fine with it. This time, you're listening to me."
Bayul would brook no argument. He was usually happy to indulge Rita's every whim, but when he put his foot down, he was every bit as unyielding as his father, Duke Randert.
"Rita, when Bayul wants to look after you, let him. And while you're at it, why not ask him to buy you a skin tonic too? Use that stuff and your skin gets amazing, you know?"
Perhaps Bayul's enthusiasm struck Eli as refreshing, because he chimed in on his own.
"Bayul, it's over here!"
Grinning ear to ear, Aidan led the group down an alley lined with stalls selling gloves and tonics.
"I'll take two pairs of cooking gloves, please. One women's size, and the other your biggest pair."
"Ah, I really am fine with this… the true flavor of food comes from bare hands…."
Rita grumbled at his side the entire time, but Bayul saw the whole purchase through himself, from order to payment.
"Heheh, Big Brother! Now I have cooking gloves of my own too!"
Unaware of Rita's feelings on the matter, Bar clutched his new gloves and proudly showed them off to Death and Amon.
"Skin tonics are over that way."
Autumn would be arriving soon, and winter after that. The colder it got, the more the skin needed to stay moisturized to remain healthy. Bayul took Rita's hand — which had walked more miles than its years could account for — and headed for the tonic stall.
It was just as Ian, watching Bayul's warm gesture toward Rita from behind, allowed himself a private, contented smile.
*Hm?*
Suddenly, he whipped his head around.
*Who was that? I definitely sensed killing intent just now…*
The area was a sea of people in every direction. Somewhere among them, the Razai and Rivai brothers were surely lurking as well. Ian sharpened his gaze and swept the surroundings, but he found no one suspicious.
*Was I imagining it?*
For just an instant, a chill of murderous intent had passed by — cold and sharp, like a blade drawn across the throat. If he hadn't misread it, this was no opponent to be taken lightly.
*What am I going to do about this.*
Ian gazed after Bayul, who had walked on ahead, deep in thought. He needed to decide, and soon, whether to end the night market fun here and return to the estate.
"They'll sell perfume over there, won't they?"
"Perfume?"
"Yeah, I just happened to run out, actually. I need to pick up a new bottle!"
"Eli, do you even have money?"
"Obviously! What do you take me for, a beggar?"
"Sounds like you got some work done over the break, huh?"
"I earned enough to get by. And fair warning — none of it's going to a rich boy's pampered young master like you, so don't get any ideas!"
"Ugh, if I hadn't run away from home, I could've earned a ton too!"
"Want me to lend you some?"
"…What? Quinn, seriously?"
"Don't you need something? If not, never mind."
"No, no! Wait! Of course I want it!"
"What do you need it for?"
"A hat."
"What hat, all of a sudden?"
"A hat for Ingrid, obviously. I've got to get her an autumn one!"
"Well, well. The penny-pincher actually spends money for once."
"Quinn, is there anything you need? I wanted to get you a present to say thanks for the other day."
"I don't really need anything."
"I do! Bayul, you're buying me something too, right?"
"Is there anything you need more than a hat?"
"I came out here with nothing but the clothes on my back. It's not one or two things I'm missing, it's a dozen."
"Where exactly are you pulling this scam? You're planning to go home before the semester starts anyway, aren't you? Is your plan to sweet-talk naive Bayul here and fleece him?"
"What's that supposed to mean? I'm practically your tour guide! I've earned a little something, haven't I?"
"Fine, Aidan. I'll buy it for you. Just tell me what you want."
"Bayul! You can't do that! What about me? You're not buying me anything? No favoritism between friends — distribute equally and fairly, I say!"
"Okay, okay. I'll treat everyone big today! Happy now?"
Somehow, Bayul had been crowned the group's benefactor for the day. Aidan and Eli whooped and hollered like they'd come into an unexpected windfall, while Quinn simply smirked.
Watching it all quietly from behind, Ian could only sigh and flash a hand signal above the crowd. It was a message to the Razai and Rivai brothers, somewhere out there in the throng: tighten the guard. He couldn't very well douse the young master's excitement when it was running this hot, so all he could do was redouble his caution.
"Maybe I ate too much. My stomach's acting up a bit."
Just then, Death suddenly doubled over, clutching his belly as though struck by a stomachache.
"Does it hurt badly? The restroom's over that way if you need it."
"I'll go empty myself out and come back."
Holding back Bar and Amon, who were about to follow, Death slipped away into the crowd.
But the direction Death headed — the one who had complained of a stomachache as he left the group — was the exact opposite of the way Aidan had pointed. And in his perfectly straight back and utterly blank expression, there wasn't the faintest trace of discomfort to be found.