* * *
“…!”
The grip was so strong, for a moment Ranshel thought someone was trying to strangle him.
If there had been any killing intent in it, he might’ve reflexively fought back.
That’s how intense the pressure was.
“…This insolent servant has… overstepped his bounds.”
A breathless voice, strained and low, came from behind him.
Ranshel’s eyes widened and he tried to look back, but the arm holding him was too firm—he could only squirm a little.
“…I didn’t expect you to arrive so quickly.”
Frey, shoulders trembling, lifted his head with a soft smile.
His eyes glistened slightly at the corners—had he actually teared up?
‘Was it that touching…?’
Ranshel wanted to keep persuading Frey, but something told him that if he tried, he might actually get strangled this time.
Zavad wasn’t exactly great at expressing emotions.
“Please, take a seat. I’ll have something prepared for you.”
At the ring of a bell, the maids waiting outside burst into the room.
Zavad must’ve come through that hallway too, but Ranshel had been too caught up in his own speech to notice.
“That won’t be necessary. In fact, it might be improper to let someone like me stay in the Saint’s quarters. I’ll take my leave with this servant.”
Zavad loosened his collar as he spoke, his breathing already calm again.
Frey waved to the maids to begin clearing the table, smiling softly.
“No need to be in such a rush. Since you’re here, you might as well hear what I have to say.”
“…I’m in the middle of training, so I’d appreciate it if we could wrap this up quickly.”
Zavad finally released Ranshel’s shoulder and stepped back.
Only then could Ranshel turn to see Zavad’s face.
Just like he said, Zavad was still in his training gear, as if he’d rushed straight over from the practice grounds.
His black hair was tousled, and sweat trickled down his tense jawline.
Ranshel found himself oddly fascinated.
It wasn’t often you saw Zavad looking so disheveled.
He’d never seen the man actually training before, which made it all the more striking.
In contrast, Frey looked immaculate as always—refined and poised.
He lifted the freshly poured teacup from the maid and spoke:
“I didn’t expect you to come in person. I told your servant just to deliver a message, knowing how busy you are.”
“…Next time, please call for me directly. How could I refuse the chance to see the Saint? No matter the urgency, nothing is more important than even your smallest request.”
“I appreciate the sentiment. But this matter happens to be quite important.”
Zavad frowned slightly, brushing his damp hair back.
The strands stuck to his skin, revealing a clean, sharp forehead.
“The negotiations are complete, then?”
“Yes. We’ve received the signed agreement from the Duke’s household. We can finally begin preparations for the engagement in earnest.”
Ranshel, watching Zavad’s face from behind, turned forward again—only to suddenly be pulled to his feet.
“Once the ring is ready, I’ll see you at the Great Temple.”
“Take care.”
Without another word, Zavad crossed the room in long strides, heading for the door.
Ranshel looked back and forth between the two of them, who hadn’t made eye contact even once, and was promptly dragged out into the hallway.
“There’s no need to see me off.”
Zavad, having steered the approaching servants out of sight, grabbed Ranshel by the arm and walked with steady steps toward the main gate.
Ranshel was still a bit dazed.
Zavad had suddenly appeared, grabbed him, and started dragging him away—his head was spinning.
After pushing Ranshel into the carriage waiting outside, Zavad shut the door and banged the back wall with his knuckles.
The carriage began to move immediately.
Ranshel, jostled by the swaying carriage, slowly began to gather his scattered thoughts.
Zavad leaned back against the seat with his eyes closed, looking exhausted.
Ranshel, trying to catch him before he dozed off, quickly spoke.
“Master.”
“Let’s ride in silence. Every time you open your mouth, I get this sickly sweet smell. It’s disgusting.”
“Well, I ate something sweet. Obviously. You could’ve had some too, you know.”
“Why the hell would I eat that crap? Seriously, even a child wouldn’t just accept random food from someone.”
“…An engaged person isn’t ‘just someone,’ though.”
At those words, Zavad’s closed lids slowly lifted, revealing his crimson eyes.
He stared at the servant in front of him, mouth curling into a crooked smirk.
“Yeah. Took years to finally get it moving.”
“…Was it because the Duke opposed it?”
“We’ve had the negotiations fall apart dozens of times. It wasn’t even a bad offer for the Ducal house, but the senile old man kicked it aside like trash.”
Zavad let out a long sigh, filled with bitterness.
Ranshel quietly studied his weary face and said:
“Still… you made it happen. Congratulations on your engagement.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“…You could show a bit more joy. You’re marrying someone you like.”
Rather than joyful, Zavad looked like he was holding back rage.
His fist clenched tightly, and he let out such a heavy sigh that Ranshel briefly worried the floor might give way.
“…What is it, seriously. Why does it feel like I’m being punished for liking someone? I can’t even hold my head up high. I’m starting to wonder if you’re trying to attack me or support me.”
“Don’t be like that. Just be honest with yourself. Liking someone isn’t something to be ashamed of.”
“……”
Zavad opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it again without a word.
His jaw was tightly clenched.
Turning his head toward the window, he took a deep breath.
After a long pause, he asked in a much calmer tone:
“So, I brought you there today. Did the Saint finally reveal their identity?”
“Ah, yes. They’re not a woman…”
“Then maybe people will finally lose interest. And you—stop tagging along like a lost puppy whenever you’re called.”
“……”
Ranshel stared at him, now thoroughly confused by yet another bout of jealousy.
Zavad had agreed to the engagement knowing that Frey was male.
And they were planning to go through with the wedding.
So, had he always liked men?
‘No… Frey isn’t just any man.’
It’s not like you see guys that beautiful every day.
Well, maybe for Zavad it’s common, considering what he sees in the mirror.
Still, the two had completely different kinds of beauty and elegance…
“…You two really look good together.”
“Uh, thanks.”
“I’m jealous. You met someone that beautiful.”
“Wait—what?”
Zavad, still staring out the window, turned to Ranshel like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.
“…Didn’t you hear about the Saint?”
“Yes, I did.”
“…And you still think they’re beautiful?”
“Well, yeah…”
Ranshel didn’t understand the confusion.
It’s not like Frey’s appearance had changed just because they revealed their gender.
They were still kind and gentle.
Even if they did commit the crime of placing a fake saint in the sanctuary.
“…You really haven’t changed, huh.”
Zavad muttered, lowering the curtain on the window and shutting his eyes again.
With the sunlight blocked, the carriage grew dim, leaving only the soft sound of the wheels rolling.
[Contribution score has changed.]
[Event Contribution]
The Most Villainous One: 25% → 30%
In the quiet interior, a system notification chimed.
Ranshel stared at the updated numbers, unsure whether he should be happy.
The conflicting emotions felt strange.
* * *
