A Pretext
Mir slowly paced around the damp, freezing room, which lacked even a single window. The only thing illuminating the dark, cramped space was the candlelight flickering from candlesticks placed in each corner of the walls. Without even that, the children would have had to shiver in fear in the pitch-black room, on top of the biting cold. They had been dragged here without knowing why, slowly consumed by the terror of watching their friends disappear one by one. Thinking that those precarious flames resembled the fragile lives of the gathered children, Mir looked around at them, some sitting listlessly, others collapsed on the floor.
A few of the children clutched small cups of water and stale-looking chunks of bread. Since they're providing food and water, they probably don't intend to kill us just yet... But why kidnap children who had nothing to their names but their own bodies? In other words, what they wanted was the children themselves. Mir shuddered slightly as he recalled the faces of two companions who had gone missing and then returned. It was a sight he never wanted to witness again.
They said no child matching Seya's description had been brought in yet. If I got here before Seya, should I wait a bit longer? If Seya wasn't here, he didn't want to stay in this wretched place for even another second, but if Seya were to be dragged in later...
"Why are you so calm? Are you sure you were kidnapped like the rest of us?"
A child who had been eyeing Mir as he paced around crept closer and spoke.
"What's it to you?"
Mir replied dismissively, wondering why this kid—who had claimed earlier that he didn't even want to talk—was suddenly showing interest.
"Did you really get caught on purpose?! Why? Don't tell me it's to find that kid Seya you mentioned earlier?"
Mir didn't bother answering. The boy had already decided on his own answer anyway, and Mir saw no point in responding. It wasn't hard to predict what the reaction would be.
"Seriously? You're out of your mind, aren't you?"
It was always this reaction. In an environment where everyone was too busy trying to feed themselves, traveling in packs was merely a way to increase the chances of finding food and lower the chances of dying. Stealing together raised the success rate. When fleeing, being in a group lowered the chances of getting caught compared to being alone. But that also meant they were the kind of companions who would abandon someone without a backward glance if they got captured. Most street packs were like that. It was just that the children gathered in their secret back-alley hideout shared an unusually strong bond. But to Mir, Seya was exceptionally precious, even among them. If someone like this kid asked him why, he wouldn't have much to say. He was just Seya.
"Just because."
Not wanting to give a long explanation, Mir gave a half-hearted reply and turned around. Just then—
Crash!
A harsh sound shattered Mir's thoughts as the door was thrown open with zero regard for the people inside. The locked door swung wide, and a man dressed in black stepped in. He differed from the other thugs who frequented this place only in that he looked far more battered and disheveled. Mir quickly hid himself among the huddle of children.
"You worthless little street rat!"
The man snarled, violently throwing a child he had been carrying over his shoulder onto the floor. Droplets of blood splattered. A few children standing in front of Mir let out soft shrieks.
"This brat gave me so much damn trouble!"
"Ugh. You've beaten me enough to vent your anger, so what more do you want? No wonder you're just a low-level lackey in a gang that kidnaps helpless kids, with a petty mind like that."
Hearing a voice that hadn't lost its defiant edge even after being captured, Mir, who was hiding among the children, flinched.
"Why, you little—!"
Enraged, the man grabbed the collapsed child by the scruff of the neck and forced him up. As the dirt- and blood-caked hair fell back, the child's face was revealed. Mir gasped.
It was Seya.
Glaring back at the panting man, Seya violently slapped away the rough hand gripping his neck.
"Why, what? From what I heard earlier, you can't even kill me yet. So why don't you stop wasting your energy? Huh?"
That unyielding attitude, even in this situation, was unmistakably Seya. What should I do? Knowing that rushing out to get between them would be utterly pointless, Mir clenched his fists tight and watched the situation unfold. As the man raised his hand to strike again, Seya growled at him.
"Are you sure you want to risk losing a finger this time?"
The threat was clearly potent enough to make the man instinctively pull his hand back. Seeing the numerous bite marks covering his hand, it seemed he had already learned the hard way that Seya's words were no empty boast. At the man's pathetic display, a smirk spread across Seya's blood-crusted face. The man's face contorted with rage for a moment, but then he let out a sneering laugh.
"You miserable little brat... 'Not yet' means that if you're deemed unfit, I can kill you on the spot. Just you wait. Once the selection is over, I'll personally take care of you."
At those cruel words, the surrounding children gasped in unison. Some even had tears welling in their eyes. But it wasn't enough to break Seya's spirit.
"You'd better watch your fingers too. I'll make sure to rip off at least one index finger before I die."
"You little piece of—"
"Hey! That's enough, get over here. We can't have him bleeding out."
The man, who was about to reach for Seya again, clicked his tongue at the sound of his companion calling him from outside.
"Just you wait."
With those parting words, he kicked Seya in the shin and stormed out of the room. Mir, who had been on his feet and ready to spring forward the moment the man raised his hand, didn't wait a second longer and rushed to his friend.
"Seya!"
The boy, who had been rubbing his bruised shin, snapped his head up at the sound of his friend's voice.
"Mir!"
As Mir approached his friend, who was greeting him with joy, his expression grew increasingly grim. The closer he got, the more clearly he could see the battered state that contrasted so sharply with Seya's bright expression. A swollen eye, hair matted with dirt and blood, and a long gash on his forearm from which blood was still dripping.
"I'm so glad to see you! I was worried sick thinking something terrible had happened to you."
Mir thought that nothing could be more terrible than their current situation, but seeing Seya genuinely rejoicing at their reunion, he simply nodded.
"I have so much to tell you. If you hear what I went through today, even you'll be shocked!"
Watching Seya chatter away excitedly, Mir let out a faint smile. Seya was so bursting with life that it made Mir's previous fear of him vanishing from the world seem almost ridiculous.
"Oh, right. And this."
Seya rummaged through his back pocket for a moment and pulled out something wrapped in a paper bag.
"Ah, damn it. That bastard squashed it all."
Glaring at the closed door, Seya held out some cold street food. Having been beaten mercilessly by the man, it had been crushed out of shape, making it hard to even tell what it originally was.
"It might look like a mess, but meat is meat, so just eat it. You haven't eaten anything since morning, right? Oh, and I brought this too. They said it's honey."
Scratching his head sheepishly, Seya pulled a small jar out of his other pocket—the one he had swiped from the Duke's mansion. At the sight, Mir bit his lip, then picked up a skewer and put a piece of meat in his mouth. The cheap, cold meat felt warm, and the corners of his mouth lifted. See? Seya is still Seya. My friend, who needed no further explanation.
The moment the Young Duke of Fides stepped out of his father's bedroom, he was changed into the neatest and most respectable attire under Tollin's direction.
"Do not forget to pin the brooch to his chest. Not something too gaudy, but as modest yet expensive as possible. It must not be too heavy either."
Attaching and removing all sorts of ornaments he wouldn't normally wear was quite exhausting, even for the Young Duke. Knowing that the Young Duke was not the type to complain simply because he was tired, Pale stood anxiously behind Tollin.
"Lord Tollin, please calm down. Anyone watching would think the Young Duke is getting married. Rather than dressing the Young Duke, there are more urgent matters..."
Pale finally spoke up cautiously.
"What on earth are you talking about?"
Tollin's fierce glare quickly shut him up, but Tollin continued.
"If it were a wedding, it would naturally have to be a hundred, no, a thousand times more splendid than this."
While Pale was left speechless by this deadpan nonsense, Tollin went on.
"Whatever the case, this is a once-in-a-lifetime event, the day he will come closest to the god Abaran until the day he dies. We cannot be careless."
Since there was no falsehood in his words, Pale backed down, thoroughly cowed.
"Just leave it be. Lord Tollin's mind must be in turmoil as well. The Temple wouldn't dare harm the Young Duke lightly, but there is no doubt that this is a warning."
Watching Pale, Jack lowered his voice and spoke. Pale, who was about to say more, shut his mouth tight when he saw the grim look on Jack's face as well.
Tollin had said this was a warning. A warning not to interfere in the affairs of the Capital any further. The Young Duke did not even know that the street child who had stirred up the Fidus mansion had been captured. Until the ceremony was over—no, probably even after it ended—the Young Duke would remain ignorant of what had happened to the child. One day, he would realize that all the adults he trusted around him were keeping secrets from him, but he would have no choice but to understand. And that day would be the day the child's absolute trust in the adults of the Fidus estate would shatter.
Feeling a bitter taste in his mouth, Pale frowned and silently watched the Young Duke being groomed by Tollin. Finally, Tollin's meticulous—or rather, fastidious—inspection came to an end. Dressed in a way that looked subtly but immensely expensive, the Young Duke boarded the carriage with slightly awkward steps. This time, Tollin boarded the same carriage as the Young Duke. The rare offerings to be presented to the Temple were loaded as well. Knowing how sensitive Tollin had been about this matter since the last incident, Pale saw them off without raising any questions.
"I shall return. I leave the estate in your hands while I am gone."
At the mature response, Pale offered a warm smile.
"Do not worry, my lord. Though not as long as you, I am still one of those who have worked at this estate for quite some time."
Tollin gave a bitter smile at his words, but no one noticed. Leaving behind Pale's smiling send-off, the carriage departed. Pale watched the carriage recede across the garden for a long time. Praying that the Fidus family's crisis would end here, he made a silent, earnest plea.
But if earnest prayers could bend the world to one's will, all the hardships of the world would have vanished long ago. Not long after the carriage carrying the Young Duke and Tollin departed, another letter arrived at the Fidus estate. The hurried, scribbled handwriting was striking. Upon reading it, Pale had to send word to Tollin, who was heading to the Temple, with an urgency that matched the frantic script.
The fifth young master of the Selby family has gone missing.
At that very moment, upon receiving the news, both princes in the Imperial Palace let out cold, mocking smiles.