First Impressions
"You're saying we can't go back? What on earth does that mean?"
"Exactly what it sounds like."
Answering Jing, who asked with a heavy sigh, Ratel drew his sword from its sheath right before his eyes. Then, he plunged it straight into the ground.
Jing instinctively knit his brows, bracing himself for the same wondrous, blinding spectacle he had witnessed in the cave before.
But there was no need. The forest remained dead silent.
"Normally, doing this should open the gate."
"You could just do it anywhere?!"
"The location isn't what's important."
Jing clutched his head with both hands, utterly at a loss. He didn't know whether to rage over the wild-goose chase he'd been put through in Amica's Space, or over the fact that he was now saddled with this blunt young man.
"...Are we locked out forever?"
"I'm not sure. It feels like the Elder's doing, though."
"No, if they could close the gate from the start, why did they keep me trapped in there for so long?"
"Ah, that's different. No one knows how you managed to slip inside in the first place, Jing."
To Jing's dumbfounded question, Ratel lightly brandished his sword.
"That's exactly why I was looking for you—to ask you that. I wanted to see if there was another way inside. We ran into each other much sooner than I expected."
It was a reasonable explanation, but it only gave Jing a worse headache.
"I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do to help. I truly don't know how I got in there. I'm not lying."
"You said that just as confidently right before you knocked me out."
Damn it. Looking at Ratel, who held a grudge much longer than expected, Jing shook his head.
"What would I possibly gain by lying to you now? If my goal was really to get back inside, would I have left you behind in the forest?"
"Well, that's true."
Ratel conceded easily. He stroked his chin for a moment, organizing his thoughts, before shrugging.
"Even so, I don't have many options."
"So... you're going to keep following me?"
Ratel didn't answer, but his expression was resolute, as if his mind was already made up.
Should I knock him out and run away again? Judging by his movements when they fought the bandits, it wouldn't be easy, but it didn't seem impossible.
As if reading the thoughts of the agonizing Jing, Ratel added, "Just so you know, it won't be easy to escape this time. I don't have anyone to protect right now, and I don't plan on letting my guard down."
Flustered, Jing cleared his throat.
"Ahem, I wasn't thinking of such a thing at all. It's just... as you can see, I have absolutely nothing. It will be quite inconvenient for a young man like you to travel with me. I have no weapons, no money—"
"You don't need to worry about that."
Ratel cut off Jing's rambling with absolute confidence. He reached inside his coat and pulled out a remarkably heavy pouch.
"I made sure to secure the fattest purse."
Seeing Ratel look so proud of himself for swiftly pocketing money even while fleeing, Jing had to steel himself to keep from sighing aloud.
For Jing, whose only recent company had been the obedient Tollin and the precocious Young Duke, Ratel's starkly different behavior was bound to be bewildering.
Tollin had his sly moments, but I never had to worry about him like this.
Jing, who did not yet know what Tollin was currently up to in the capital, lamented inwardly. No matter how he looked at it, he could only foresee a troublesome future.
Maybe I really should knock him out again...
Clank.
"Did you say something?"
Ratel drew his sword slightly from its sheath, checking the edge. The sharp, brilliant gleam of the blade pricked Jing's eyes.
Jing, who had briefly tensed his posture, quickly relaxed his body.
"I didn't say a thing."
Since Ratel was eyeing him suspiciously, Jing spoke up to divert his attention.
"Th-that's impressive. For now... keep hold of that. Let's get out of the forest first, and then we can figure out what you should do."
And hopefully, we can part ways as quickly as possible.
Swallowing those final words, Jing took the lead.
Ever since late afternoon, a restless atmosphere had hung over the ducal estate.
The servants' faces were tight with tension as they replaced the flowers in the hallway vases and carried out rarely used tableware.
On the tray pushed by a maid hurrying down the corridor sat an ornate teapot and teacups—luxuries seldom seen in the Fides household.
It was no simple matter for someone to make such a sudden visit to the duchy.
While the Crysa brothers' visit a few weeks ago had been highly unusual, there was only one person for whom the Fides family would prepare such an extravagant reception.
"Imperial royalty..."
Knock, knock.
"Flynn, it is Tollin."
The Young Duke, who had muttered the words unconsciously, clenched and unclenched his fists a few times before answering as calmly as possible.
"Come in."
Tollin opened the door and stepped inside. He was dressed more neatly than usual, but he could not hide his pale complexion.
"I believe you must prepare quickly, Young Master. The Second Prince is currently on his way to the estate."
"Your Highness, we have almost arrived at the Fides estate."
At the polite announcement from outside the carriage, Ditto Abaran smiled gently and gazed out the window at the beautiful ancient castle.
It was a family that had stood firm in that place for a very long time.
Ever since the reign of the first Emperor, Sierra Abaran, though the castle's appearance might have changed, the dogs guarding it had passed down their lineage from generation to generation.
Ditto Abaran quite liked that castle as well.
So much so, in fact, that he would find it a pity if it were to disappear.
Thus, he had never really thought about getting rid of the watchdog. There was no need to, anyway.
Ditto Abaran tapped his finger against the window reflecting the castle.
But technically speaking, what I like is the castle, not the dog, isn't it?
Therefore, even if the castle's watchdog were to change, its master wouldn't feel the slightest bit of regret.
"You must be very nervous."
Glancing at the stiff profile of the Young Duke, Tollin asked softly.
"...To be honest, I am."
Tollin, who had hoped to ease his tension, couldn't help but chuckle at the honest, solemn reply.
"You will do wonderfully. After all, you carry Lord Agony's blood."
Hearing Tollin's confident words, the Young Duke debated whether or not he should mention that his father had actually nearly collapsed from weak knees the first time he ever laid eyes on imperial royalty.
"And even if you happen to make a mistake, Young Master..."
Perhaps misinterpreting his stiff expression, Tollin cleared his throat and spoke again.
"Do you remember what I told you before? At your station in life, it is perfectly fine to use a few shortcuts now and then."
"You also said, 'only within the limits of one's capability.'"
Clever as always.
Tollin offered a warm smile to the Young Duke, who never lost his sharp wit even in moments of high tension.
"When we are by your side, you may cross the line just a tiny bit. This Tollin will handle the rest, whatever it takes."
The Young Duke smiled slightly at the playful gesture as Tollin patted his chest and straightened his back.
Relieved by that smile, Tollin composed his expression once more and led him toward the entrance.
The lavish golden carriage crossed the garden and came to a smooth halt.
"Presenting His Imperial Highness, the Second Prince, Ditto Abaran."
Following the solemn announcement, an attendant stepped forward to the carriage door with seamless, practiced movements.
Gulp.
The Young Duke swallowed hard, unable to hide his obvious anxiety as he fixed his gaze forward.
Words that the Duke of Fides had once spoken while stroking his hair not too long ago echoed in his mind.
"Flynn, the Imperial family are gods themselves. Before them, all things are nothing more than mere dust. One day, you will face them directly."
It had probably been an answer to a question about how it felt to see a member of the Imperial family for the first time.
Remembering his father's warm face as he jokingly added that his knees had buckled on their first meeting, the Young Duke focused his gaze.
At the very least, now was not the time to be lost in memories.
Creak—click.
The well-oiled carriage door opened with barely a sound.
For a brief moment, the Young Duke felt as though every living thing in the vicinity had held its breath.
"My sudden visit must have put everyone in a difficult position."
A playful voice drifted down over the crown of the Young Duke's head.
The boy raised his stiff neck.
A golden god, whose very existence was mesmerizing, was looking down at him.
It felt as though something scorching might pour from those locked eyes.
"I... I greet Your Imperial Highness."
In a trembling voice, the Young Duke offered his formal greetings.
As always, his father had been right.
The world undoubtedly existed solely for the Imperial family.
If that were not the case, there was no explaining the sudden surge of desire to kneel and swear lifelong loyalty, triggered by nothing more than the prince curling the corners of his lips at him.
Mir caught his breath as he looked at the distant line of people waiting to receive bread and blankets.
The site where materials had once been moved back and forth to build a shelter had long since seen its construction halted.
It was shortly after that when his companions from the streets had begun to vanish one by one.
The children huddling together in the vacant lot were those who, having realized something was amiss, had been the quickest to give up on seeking help from adults.
Among them, Mir was the one who had kept the most thorough distance from the shelter.
But now, that place was the most likely location where Seya had been taken.
Jill had clearly said a large man had come to help the children, and Jin had said that same large man had taken Seya away.
Mir knew exactly who the only people reaching out to the street orphans were.
The boy curled his small body even tighter and stepped into the queue.
In the grand drawing room of the Fides estate—so pristine it looked newly renovated—the fragrant aroma of tea and a suffocating tension mingled in an awkward harmony. It created an oppressive atmosphere that made anyone present want to bolt out the door immediately.
The source of this heavy air, Ditto Abaran, lifted his teacup to his lips with a gentle smile.
"Well, since it is quite difficult to force this sewage water down my throat, shall we get straight to the point?"
At the Second Prince's sharp yet smooth words breaking the silence, the Young Duke's shoulders flinched.
"I can only offer my deepest apologies for failing to serve a tea worthy of your noble presence. My knowledge of tea leaves is lacking, so our selection was limited."
At Tollin's apology, the Second Prince set his teacup down without a word.
His flawless, elegant posture was so noble that the Young Duke temporarily forgot his fear and watched him.
The boy recalled the stories of the Imperial family that the Duke of Fides had once shared with a melancholy expression.
"The Imperial family are messengers of God, Flynn. If the day comes when you face them yourself, you will understand what I mean."
He was right. The Young Duke finally understood his father's words.
The moment he faced the Second Prince, who had stepped out of a golden carriage large enough to fit inside the duchy's smallest room and walked with slow, leisurely strides, the sheer nobility of his every step and gesture had filled the boy with an overwhelming urge to kneel before him.
Had it not been for his father's warnings, he would have gladly done so.
But the Young Duke managed to stop at a deep bow.
And this was a significant step forward—one that no one else in the room could possibly comprehend.