* * *
“I found him.”
“Where?”
“Downstairs.”
“Thank goodness.”
Sehir let out a long sigh of relief at the news that Isa had been found.
Glancing briefly toward the King and Kerelona, he made a gesture of calming his racing heart.
“How did he end up all the way down there?”
“I didn’t get the chance to ask.”
“What? Didn’t you come with him?”
“No.”
Kaindel muttered tersely, hesitating for a moment.
Even if it was Sehir, he wasn’t sure if he should mention what Isa had just gone through.
Just thinking about it made his chest tighten.
If he ran into the man who had almost taken Isa again, he doubted he’d stay calm.
Even here in the banquet hall, he felt like his fists would fly first.
Kaindel’s lips twitched as if to speak, but he swallowed a sigh instead.
“Isa said he wanted to rest, so I brought him to the carriage. I’ll head back soon.”
“Then I’ll…”
Sehir began to mutter as he quickly grasped Kaindel’s intention to return shortly.
But before he could finish, the King, who had been silently observing the banquet hall, suddenly rose from his seat and stepped toward the center.
The eyes of the attendees, pretending not to notice him, all followed his movements.
“Well then, since it seems everyone is here, bring it out.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
At the King’s gesture toward the entrance, the chamberlain nodded to a group of waiting attendants.
The attendants exited the hall and soon returned, wheeling in a tray.
On the tray was something black, still faintly pulsating.
Kaindel immediately recognized what it was—the heart of the Great Calamity, the very proof he had brought back as evidence of his victory.
But he couldn’t understand why the King was revealing it now.
If the plan was to showcase the heart during the banquet, it should have been brought out at the start.
Why now, of all times?
He thought of Isa, likely asleep in the carriage.
Acknowledging his deeds as a hero without Isa present would only complicate matters.
Yet waking Isa, in his current drugged state, and bringing him into the hall wasn’t an option either.
It wasn’t impossible, but considering Isa’s humble origins as a commoner, it would be better to introduce him as a companion of the hero in front of the gathered nobles.
Even if revealing Isa’s role had to wait… for now, Kaindel decided he couldn’t leave.
With that, his lingering thoughts came to a close.
Though the idea of compromising when it came to Isa left a bitter taste, it wasn’t entirely unbearable.
What weighed on him more was the unease of leaving Isa alone.
Isa was already in a fragile state, and even though the coachman was with him, Kaindel wasn’t certain it had been the right choice.
Still, he had to see what the King was up to.
Kaindel licked the inside of his cheek and tore his gaze away from the Great Calamity’s heart.
Turning his head, he found himself locking eyes with the King.
The King greeted Kaindel’s gaze with a benevolent smile.
“Do you all recognize what this is? The heart of the Great Calamity. The Duke Schudelgarten brought this back after vanquishing the beast.”
“…”
Handing his wine glass to the chamberlain, the King’s voice brimmed with excitement as he spoke, causing a stir in the hall.
Whispers spread like wildfire as the attendees realized the object’s true nature.
‘The heart of the Great Calamity? How ghastly!’
Murmurs of amazement and horror echoed throughout the room.
Ignoring the noise, Kaindel composed his expression.
He could feel the curious stares of a few nearby nobles.
Sehir, too, seemed to notice, gently nudging Kaindel’s elbow as he whispered.
“Kaindel, are you sure it’s okay? Isa’s not here right now.”
“It’s fine. We can reveal Isa’s connection later.”
“Later? When’s that?”
“Later.”
Kaindel was about to finish with a vague promise of when the time is right when—
“By the way, where’s that gray-haired whore?”
The faintly mocking voice of a woman reached him.
Though he didn’t want to hear it, the words struck him like a blow.
‘Gray-haired whore.’
The phrase carried a strange familiarity, and Kaindel’s gaze snapped toward the speaker.
If they meant someone with gray hair, there was only one person that came to mind.
But Isa wasn’t a whore, so he tried to dismiss the thought.
That is, until the conversation continued.
“Right? I haven’t seen him since earlier. Isn’t he always trailing after the hero like a shadow?”
“Exactly. That gray-haired whore. I think I saw him heading to the lounge earlier.”
“The lounge? How brazen of him, acting like he belongs here. It’s disgusting.”
“…”
The words lingered in Kaindel’s mind—lounge, gray-haired, whore.
Each term seemed to point unmistakably toward a single person.
The bitterness in the voices and their shared target left no room for doubt.
Isa, his companion and lover.
The man from earlier in the hallway had also called Isa a whore.
At the time, Kaindel had dismissed it as drunken rage from a man acting on immature spite.
But when had Isa become a target of such slander?
Was this why he’d hesitated to bring Isa into the public eye from the beginning?
Kaindel’s chest tightened, a wave of nausea rising within him.
It wasn’t dizziness—it was revulsion, a deep-seated disgust that felt like lead pressing on his chest.
“Now, wait…”
“Duke Sudelgarten.”
Before he could confront the voices, the King called to him from the center of the hall.
Kaindel had no choice but to turn back toward him.
“…You summoned me, Your Majesty.”
His voice was low and rough, the raw emotions clawing at his insides making his throat tighten.
He felt anger, frustration—but had no outlet for it.
Ever since the man had tried to drag Isa away in that dazed state, these feelings had simmered inside him.
The King arched an eyebrow at Kaindel’s delayed response.
“You mentioned before that you had five companions, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Then why are there only four here?”
“Well, that’s because…”
He was at a loss for words.
There was no way he could admit, in front of all these people, that Isa was under the influence of drugs.
He wasn’t about to hand more ammunition to those already calling Isa a whore.
Yet, no plausible excuse came to mind—his thoughts had ground to a halt, broken beyond repair.
As his silence stretched, murmurs began to ripple through the crowd.
“…The gray-haired whore.”
“A whore, huh…?”
“Looks like a girl and still…”
“All he does is cause trouble.”
The crowd’s scornful voices were all aimed at Isa.
They hurled the word “whore” at him, as if labeling and mocking him somehow elevated their own worth.
And they all seemed to wait with bated breath for whatever words might fall from Kaindel’s lips.
The king, displeased with the silence dragging on despite his own question, clicked his tongue.
“Duke Schudelgarten, are you deaf to my words? Bring the last one forward already. Or must we waste even more time on some mere commoner?”
“…”
“Must my people, gathered here, squander their time over someone so insignificant? Duke Schudelgarten.”
“I…”
Kaindel exhaled sharply, each breath ragged and uneven.
The suffocating scent of perfume thick in the air made his head pound—its intensity crossing the line from fragrant to nauseating.
Pressing a hand to his aching forehead, he released a slow, measured breath, smoothing his lips into a composed curve, forcing a smile where tension had stiffened his face.
“I believe I may have misspoken earlier.”
“Kaindel.”
A faint, cautionary voice came from Sehir at his side, but Kaindel had no time to heed it.
“That man is not someone to be so carelessly mentioned here.”
“You dare—”
“I’ll explain everything in detail later. For now, I ask that we leave it at this.”
The lounge.
The gray-haired whore. Whore. Whore.
Mocking laughter rang in his ears.
Kaindel absorbed the sound, letting it settle within him as he maintained his calm facade.
“Please.”
* * *
so sad