First Impressions
"What kind of hospitality is this?!"
A loud, eccentric voice shattered the tense silence of the drawing room. It was the kind of line one would expect from an incredibly demanding, troublesome customer.
The Young Duke opened his eyes, which he had squeezed shut so tightly it hurt. The Second Prince's chilling gaze was no longer fixed on him. For the first time since arriving at the duchy, Ditto slightly knit his brows and looked toward the drawing room door.
Tollin did the same. It was an arrogant voice whose owner was impossible to mistake—a voice he would never forget for as long as he lived.
Bam!
The door burst open, revealing a man who was unmistakably a member of the imperial family, possessing platinum-blonde hair even brighter than the Second Prince's. With a face strikingly similar to Ditto's, he scanned the four frozen figures in the room and clicked his tongue.
"Does the Fides family—servants, acting head, and heir alike—not even know basic etiquette before royalty?"
Ditto Abaran was the first to react to the irritation-laced voice.
"Brother?"
At Ditto's bewildered call, the man—who was either an uninvited guest or a savior—replied cheerfully.
"Yes, I heard you were here, so I stopped by to see your face."
With the sudden appearance of the First Prince, Rasiah Abaran—one of the very few royals capable of stopping the Second Prince—a different kind of silence descended upon the drawing room. Rasiah stood before the four of them, doing his best to mask his own embarrassment.
"Brother, didn't I just see you this morning?" Ditto asked, breaking the silence in confusion.
The First Prince opened and closed his mouth.
"We... we did. But since when have we been the type of brothers who only see each other once a day?"
Finding it hard to believe he had actually uttered such an embarrassing and foolish line, the First Prince clenched his fists out of sight.
"So, you came all this way just to see me again?"
"……Yes."
"Do you recall that we spoke for about an hour this morning?"
"Why should I hesitate when there is a face I yearn to see no matter how often I look at it?"
Even Ditto couldn't stomach such madness; his face contorted in sheer disgust.
Yes, I know. I know, damn it. I know better than anyone how creepy and insane this sounds. Do you think I want to say such stupid things?
Rasiah Abaran ground his teeth, recalling the shameless face that had forced him here about an hour ago.
The First Prince had headed to his office after a late lunch. He had intended to process the remaining paperwork after a pleasant morning conversation with Ditto about how to finally proceed with that damn shelter project.
"Ah, you're here?"
But his face had crumpled instantly at the sight of the black trash waiting for him, sitting leisurely in his office.
The fact that he was now somewhat accustomed to these sudden visits and no longer jumped in shock made him feel subtly disgusted with himself. Rasiah slammed the door shut as he stepped inside.
"Why are you here again? You were the one who said I could go ahead and work with Ditto last time."
"Where did the Second Prince go?"
"Why are you asking that?"
The First Prince frowned again, exasperated by how natural it felt to be ignored by the Seventh Prince.
"Did he go to the Fides Duchy?"
"If you already know, why on earth are you asking?"
"Hmm."
Rasiah walked over to his desk, looking thoroughly sick of the Seventh Prince, who had ignored him multiple times now.
"Are you busy right now?" the Seventh Prince asked the moment he sat down.
"Can't you see? I'm working. Do you not know what an office is for?" Rasiah sneered, robbed of his usual shouting, but the black-eyed prince didn't even blink.
"Then it should be fine for you to step out for a moment."
"What are you talking about? I said I'm working."
"You need to go to the Fides Duchy."
"Are you seriously deaf?"
"I'd appreciate it if you went as quickly as possible."
Unable to tolerate this entirely one-sided conversation any longer, Rasiah slammed his hand on the desk and stood up.
"No! Why the hell should I go there?!"
His seventh younger brother, watching him struggle to keep his voice down, simply stared back with that unsettlingly blank expression.
"Do you really need a reason to move?"
Rasiah wasn't stupid enough to miss the underlying threat. Since when did you have the right to ask that? Yet, Rasiah had already yielded to his bizarre, inexplicable requests several times before.
As Rasiah kept his mouth shut, the Seventh Prince shrugged.
"It's not difficult. Just visit the Fides family right now and bring the Second Prince back."
"Ditto? Why?"
"Because nothing good will come of him staying there."
The Seventh Prince spoke lightly, as if it were merely a passing whim. The First Prince ground his teeth.
"We spent an hour discussing business this morning. What am I supposed to say if I suddenly show up?"
"Ah, I see."
The boy seemed to ponder for a moment, then answered dismissively, as if it weren't his concern.
"Just make up an excuse. Say you came because you missed him. Isn't that what brothers do—yearn for each other even if they meet every day?"
Too exhausted to ask what kind of crazy brothers in the world would do that, Rasiah sighed and got up.
"Oh, and when you get there, don't even look at the Young Duke. Don't speak to him either."
The annoying yet impossible-to-ignore demand drifted through the closing door.
"Something feels off."
"What, do you need to use the bathroom? You'll have to hold it until we arrive."
Seya glared at Jack with an annoyed expression.
"Not that. I feel like something bad is happening."
"Well, things aren't exactly great for you right now."
Jack shook the rope tied around one of Seya's arms.
Seya ignored him, lost in thought. By now, Mir must be incredibly worried after hearing from Jin. He wanted to escape quickly, but this giant named Jack was surprisingly thorough. At the slightest hint of an escape attempt, Jack would glare at him with a look that said, 'You're not trying to run, are you? Surely not?' Seya had no choice but to follow where the man led.
"Oh, this looks good. Give me two more of these." Jack took two skewers from a street stall. "Here, eat one."
Seya stared blankly at the golden-brown skewer thrust in front of him.
"Why do you keep feeding me?"
"Don't you want to eat? You kept glancing at them."
"……."
His thoughts read, Seya silently accepted the skewer. But he only held it. Swallowing his saliva, Seya made no move to eat, which Jack found strange enough to make him stop in his tracks.
"What? Why aren't you eating? It's not poisoned. You literally just saw me buy it from the stall."
Why do you think? I want to save it for Mir.
"I'm saving it for later."
At Seya's dishonest reply, Jack glanced down at the child's grease-stained hand. Fearing Jack might take it back, Seya subtly hid the skewer behind his back. He wouldn't take back something he already gave, right? As Seya narrowed his eyes and glared, Jack silently turned back the way they came.
Pulled along by the rope without knowing why, Seya lowered his hand from behind his back once Jack stopped at the same street stall.
"Here." Jack handed him a paper bag filled with skewers. "Don't bother saving it. Just eat when you want to."
Reading his gruff expression, Seya quickly snatched the bag. There was no reason to refuse a free gift.
Jack thought the sight resembled a wild dog being tamed. But whether because he was a human child or a child of the streets, Seya was not easily tamed. More like a stray than a puppy, the boy silently gathered the sharp wooden skewers from the eaten food, stacking them neatly as he followed behind a self-satisfied Jack.
The servants of the Fides Duchy could not hide their confusion, having encountered imperial royalty twice in a single day—beings most people would never see in a lifetime. None of them dared to look upon these sacred entities, let alone stand close enough to eavesdrop on the drawing room. Only Pale, standing at the end of the hallway, stared at the firmly shut door, praying that nothing terrible would happen.
Meanwhile, inside the room where the disaster Pale feared had been narrowly averted, an awkward standoff was underway. Tollin stared blankly at Rasiah and Ditto, the two princes exchanged subtle glances, and the Young Duke struggled to remain calm, unable to control his trembling pupils. It was Tollin who first broke the silence among the four.
"Forgive me for not greeting you at the entrance. I greet Your Highness, the First Prince."
Prompted by Tollin, the Young Duke also quickly bowed his head. "I greet Your Highness, the First Prince."
Rasiah Abaran, who had been scowling as he accepted Tollin's greeting, flinched when he went to look at the Young Duke and abruptly snapped his head away.
"……Yes, quite."
Seeing him reply without casting a single glance toward the Young Duke, the Second Prince raised an eyebrow.
"Brother, are you alright?"
"Of course. I am always fine."
No matter how one looked at it, something was off, but since Rasiah insisted so firmly, the Second Prince simply nodded.
Confirming Ditto's reaction, the First Prince waved his hand dismissively, changing the subject.
"How could I sit still when my younger brother is so busy? I heard you were here and decided to drop by. It does my heart good to see your face. Well, it looks like your business here is finished?"
"……Yes, the important matters have already been concluded." The Second Prince, having regained his smiling facade, nodded.
"Splendid. Then we should head back, shouldn't we?"
Sensing Rasiah's subtle attempt to drag him away, Ditto pretended not to notice and looked around at Tollin and the Young Duke.
"I would love to... but I was just teaching the young Duke a fun game."
"A game?" Only then did Rasiah notice the Second Prince's aide standing a short distance away and the shattered teacup fragments on the floor. He nodded understandingly. "Still playing like a child at your age, I see."
To the Young Duke, the First Prince's demeanor felt like that of a genuine, close family member. He wondered if this was what it would feel like to watch a lion speak. Though the atmosphere was far from comfortable, the cruelty from moments ago had vanished, replaced by a slightly softer air. The child cautiously observed the First Prince, finding him somewhat less terrifying than the Second Prince.
"What kind of difficult game requires teaching anyway?" Rasiah muttered dismissively. But in the next instant, before the Young Duke's eyes could even track the movement, the First Prince snatched up the teapot. It was then the child realized his assumption had been a grave mistake.
The heavy ceramic sliced through the air, whipping up a wind.
Fortunately, the Young Duke did not have to witness what became of the flying teapot. Tollin had swiftly shielded the boy's vision with his own body. However, the loud shattering sound and the rich scent of tea filling the room allowed the child to easily imagine what had transpired behind Tollin's back.
As the Young Duke gasped, the First Prince's nonchalant voice reached his ears.
"I hit the dead center, so I win. The game is over. I'm sure the Young Duke understands by now."
Along with the innocent urging of the First Prince to head back came the soft chuckle of the Second Prince.
It was the moment the Young Duke's feelings toward the imperial family solidified into pure terror and wariness.