* * *
It was that expression again.
Ashard couldn’t take his eyes off Eren, who stood there staring blankly at Carlyle and Julius.
From time to time, Eren’s face would contort as if he were about to fall apart.
Ashard remembered vividly the first time he ever saw that expression—the day Eren had asked him to go out and see a play.
That day, he’d lost hold of Eren’s hand in the crowd, and watched helplessly as he was swept away.
He hadn’t been able to reach him.
After searching for a while, he found him tucked away in a corner of an alley, blankly staring up at a lantern.
Those blue eyes had been filled with unmistakable fear.
Without thinking, Ashard had pulled him into a hug.
At the time, he’d assumed it was just the fear of being lost.
But now he knew better.
Eren had made that same expression when those three bastards from Epentel showed up.
And again, when he’d come back from being dragged off by Helid, his ankle broken.
Though his face twisted with pain, there was always this resigned look—like he’d known all along it would come to this.
Ashard never could quite figure out what went on in that small head of his.
But one thing was certain—Eren was thinking something unnecessary again.
“Snap out of it. Why are you spacing out like that? Are you hurt badly?”
There was no answer.
Ashard had asked to break him out of his thoughts—whatever dark places he might be drifting to—but it was useless.
Eren stood still, and his expression gradually hardened.
Ashard thought he knew everything there was to know about Eren by now, but he couldn’t read that face at all.
“There’s a lot of blood. We need to get you treated, now.”
He reached out to grab Eren’s hand and pull him along, but the boy didn’t move an inch.
He met Ashard’s eyes briefly, then slowly lowered his gaze.
What is he looking at?
At the end of Eren’s line of sight was Ashard’s shoulder—soaked in dark red blood.
It didn’t even hurt.
By size alone, Ashard’s wound was much worse than Eren’s injured hand, but he didn’t care.
What mattered was getting Eren treated, fast.
Ashard lived with scars on his body—that was his norm. But not Eren.
He tried again to take Eren’s hand, to pull him toward help.
But his body wouldn’t move.
That resigned expression had rooted his feet in place once again.
They were close in distance, but somehow, Eren felt so far away.
As if he were slipping out of reach.
Ashard gripped Eren’s hand tighter without realizing it, as if letting go now meant losing him for good.
“…Thank you, Lord Ashard.”
The words that finally came from those small lips were just a quiet thank you.
Maybe it was gratitude for saving him from the monster that had attacked.
But why—why did it feel like Ashard’s heart dropped into his stomach?
“Don’t thank me. Of course I would save you.”
Thump, thump. His heart pounded so hard it rang in his ears, drowning out all other sounds around him.
When Eren thanked him, and he replied that it was only natural—he couldn’t bring himself to look at the boy’s face.
Somehow, he knew he shouldn’t.
Just as he couldn’t read that expression, he couldn’t predict what kind of face Eren was making now.
“So come on. Let’s go get that wound treated, okay?”
Silence.
As if silence was the only answer Eren could give him now.
The quiet settled like a heavy fog between them.
Ashard couldn’t help himself—he looked at Eren’s face again, and the disappointment that washed over him was impossible to hide.
Their eyes met. And, just like always, Eren smiled.
But Ashard saw it—just before that smile formed, the despair that had lingered in Eren’s expression.
Like he was in agony, the light had vanished from his blue eyes.
That endlessly sunken gaze. The smile that rose on his lips, as if forced by duty.
And once Ashard realized it was all just a mask meant to hide from him—he was overwhelmed with self-loathing.
Why? Why are you making that face, Eren?
At dawn, Eren made his way to the imperial palace.
He hadn’t gotten what he wanted, but a promise was a promise.
He was there to deliver a summarized version of the magic formula Melody and Elyrion had been so desperate to obtain.
Just as expected, after the gargoyle attack during the banquet yesterday, the nobles were deeply moved by Carlyle and Julius, who had protected them.
Even before the two could say anything, the nobles had stepped forward and requested the artifact restraints be removed.
Since it was a banquet hosted by the Imperial Family, all the prominent houses of the Empire had been present.
That not a single person had been harmed was, in their eyes, a monumental achievement.
With members of the royal family in attendance as well, the three of them—Carlyle, Julius, and even Helid—were freed from the surveillance they’d long endured, all under the excuse that they had protected royalty.
Naturally, the artifact restraints that had been clamped on them like collars were lifted too.
That single act had earned them praise instead of suspicion.
Eren had been puzzled why Helid, of all people, was being praised alongside the others—but the confusion didn’t last long.
Rumors had spread that the three of them were the ones who had defeated the fallen Emperor of Epentel.
The public now hailed them as heroes.
“If I disappear, those three will surely come looking for me. And if they’re busy chasing after me… then Lord Ashard will be safe.”
Eren knew that Ashard would chase after him too.
But still, he didn’t change his mind.
Being trampled beneath the feet of the original leads was the only role someone like him could play—but this was the one and only way he could protect Ashard.
Forgetting came quickly.
Being forgotten would be even easier.
Ashard had too many responsibilities.
Too many people to protect.
Too much to do.
In the midst of such a busy life, someone like Eren would fade from memory before long.
He was simply going back.
Back to the way things were before they met—to where he was supposed to be.
A place completely unrelated to the original story.
A time when there was no danger, no pain.
Call it selfish.
No—it was selfish.
Even though he knew nothing lasted forever in this world, he had dared to wish for something eternal with Ashard.
He had wished for it, knowing full well that it would hurt him.
That was Eren’s selfishness.
* * *
