An Unwanted Realization
Was Raphael the sort of man who said things like that?
Well, she couldn’t speak for how he behaved with others. But he had never once smiled at Cayena with such gentle warmth or spoken to her in that tone.
No. I mustn’t let myself be fooled by that misleading way he talks.
Cayena shook her head, forcing her foolishly fluttering heart to calm. It would be best to end their meeting here.
“…I have matters to finish today, so I must take my leave. As for visiting the Academy to have the documents notarized, it would be better to schedule it for another time.”
When she rose from her seat, Raphael stood as well.
Cayena walked ahead, trying to steady herself. From behind, he followed and spoke.
“Allow me to escort you, Your Highness.”
Cayena turned to refuse.
“No, there’s really no need—”
Only to find him already right in front of her. She hastily stepped back.
“Ah…!”
She wobbled slightly and reached out. Raphael was strong enough to catch her hand and pull her upright, yet doing so might jar her injured arm. Using that as his excuse, he braced her back firmly and drew her into his arms. Startled, Cayena clutched at his chest.
“Are you all right?”
The voice that reached her ear was blunt yet strangely tender. Cayena felt a wave of déjà vu.
I was held by him in the Imperial Library, too.
Just like then, the embrace gave her an overwhelming sense of perfect protection.
Raphael gently brushed aside the hair that had slipped across her face. Her mind snapped back into focus. Cayena tried to pull away at once, but her body refused to obey. She was mortified.
“Sir Kidrey.”
Raphael gazed down at Cayena, who had gone rigid in his arms. Something was definitely wrong. She avoided his touch far too vehemently—almost as if she feared it.
“Do I disgust you?”
“No, of course not.”
Disgust? What an absurd misunderstanding.
“Then why do you keep avoiding me?”
“That’s…”
For a moment she was speechless. It seemed her caution had gone too far. But wasn’t this more comfortable for him? Cayena had assumed Raphael would naturally welcome her distance. After all, he was the kind of man who felt nauseated by contact with others.
Yet right now his complexion looked perfectly normal. There was no pallor, no hint of discomfort. Cayena chewed her lip, her voice losing some of its confidence.
“I was afraid it might make you uncomfortable, Sir…”
I’m certain that’s the case, so why does this feel strange?
The signs that he avoided physical contact had been clear.
Seeing her lower her gaze in obvious distress, Raphael felt his heart stir. How could he possibly find this uncomfortable? Even he didn’t fully understand his own feelings at the moment. But one thing was certain.
“I am not uncomfortable in the slightest.”
Raphael realized he needed to state his position plainly to this overly cautious woman.
“What makes me uncomfortable is you avoiding me.”
That can’t be true.
Cayena wanted to argue, but she only managed to frown slightly.
Raphael’s lips curved in a faint smile at her expression, then straightened again.
…For some reason, he felt embarrassed.
“Shall we go, then?”
Instead of releasing her, he offered his hand—an invitation to escort. Cayena stared at it a moment before gently taking it.
He says he’s fine, so…
The room suddenly felt rather warm.
Chapter 9. An Unwanted Realization
“Where is Jeremy right now?”
The moment Raphael returned to the annex, he asked after Jeremy’s whereabouts. He wanted to know how the investigation into Henverton Gillian was progressing.
“He is still out, my lord.”
Still investigating, then.
Raphael nodded and headed for his bedroom. Baston, trailing beside him, spoke up.
“Master, you didn’t treat Her Highness with your usual complete lack of human warmth again, did you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Earlier, in the reception room…”
Baston began to answer the indifferent question but stopped short. There were too many ears nearby. He drew closer to Raphael. He failed to notice the slight hardening of his master’s expression.
“When you came out of the reception room, Her Highness’s face looked a little strange.”
Raphael shifted his body ever so naturally, creating a bit of distance as he replied.
“Nothing happened, so stop making a fuss and jumping to conclusions.”
“When have I ever jumped to conclusions…?”
Baston pouted.
Was it my imagination? He really did seem different from usual.
Yet the man before him now was exactly the same as always. Then again, Raphael had been like this from the moment they met. According to Jeremy, his personality had been identical even when he was much younger.
A solemn, dignified child. How creepy.
Baston had once wandered with a mercenary band before chance led him to become a squire in the Kidrey ducal household. The family back then had been rather odd.
The whole atmosphere was razor-sharp.
It was milder now, but at the time the discipline had been so severe it felt suffocating.
Baston recalled his first impression of Raphael.
He was infuriating.
From childhood, Raphael had been handsome, tall, and effortlessly talented at everything. Yet he spoke very little and almost never smiled.
It wasn’t that he found the boy even more annoying because the maid he secretly admired had gushed about how wonderful he was.
…Probably.
Countless people adored him.
Some even called him a first-love manufacturing machine.
Even Her Highness the Princess was the same.
Once again lost in his sentimental thoughts, Baston’s eyes sparkled. The sight of his master’s expressionless profile as he climbed the stairs seemed especially magnificent today. It must be thanks to the cream-colored shirt he had recommended.
“Baston.”
He jumped and looked up. At some point Raphael had removed his outer coat and was holding the shirt out to him. Lost in thought while walking, Baston hadn’t even noticed they had reached the bedroom.
“Ah, right away, my lord.”
He took the shirt and unfolded the loungewear a servant had brought, helping Raphael into it. As he did, he swallowed hard without meaning to. It wasn’t just the perfectly sculpted physique; his eyes had caught on the long scar running across his master’s back.
That wound had been taken in battle on Baston’s account. He still remembered the sight of Raphael speaking with a blank face even as blood poured from him.
“Pull yourself together, Baston Debora.”
The dry voice that had always seemed so irritating had, in that moment, been so reassuring it brought tears to his eyes. Without him, Baston would certainly have died at the barbarians’ hands.
Though the master never seems to mind the scar at all.
Soon the mark was hidden, swallowed up by the black shirt.
The duchy shared a border with another nation. Because of that, barbarian raids were frequent. The savages had been gnawing away at the western frontier and pushing southward.
When Raphael came of age to take the field, he finished his preparations and promptly swept the barbarians away. In a single stroke he had resecured the western border.
People in the capital have no idea what war even looks like, so they wouldn’t understand just how ruthless he can be.
Raphael showed no mercy—almost excessively so. Like a man incapable of sympathizing with his enemy’s pain, he cut them down simply because it was something that had to be done.
After that, Baston had cheerfully concluded that his master’s heart must be made of ice.
And now spring has finally come even to our master!
Baston’s breathing grew excited.
At that moment Raphael met his gaze with frigid eyes.
“Your breath is unpleasant.”
“Ahem, my seasonal allergies have been acting up a little…”
Now dressed, Raphael reached into the jewelry box and picked up the familiar ruby cufflinks—then paused. His eyes had fallen on the icy blue diamond he usually ignored. The color reminded him of Cayena’s eyes.
Knock, knock.
A servant rapped on the bedroom door and entered.
“Advisor Jeremy has returned. He says he has an immediate report. How shall I instruct him?”
Raphael turned his gaze away and answered.
“Send him in.”