* * *
From John’s perspective, it made sense.
Someone he had known since childhood was now lying naked in bed.
Hearing about it was one thing, but seeing it firsthand was another.
It must have felt like a scythe had sliced through his skull.
Nael could understand. He had trembled with fear his first time, too.
Insisting that Nael was in no condition to move, Ren personally brought the bathtub into the room.
He carried bucket after bucket of water, filling it up.
It must have been exhausting, but every time their eyes met, Ren simply smiled, his gaze soft as a crescent moon.
When Nael tried to help, Ren firmly refused.
All he could do was sit back and watch, which only made him more uncomfortable.
Next time, I’ll just wipe myself down with a damp towel.
Once he settled into the warm water, his stiff muscles finally relaxed.
Ren and John left to bring food, leaving him alone.
Compared to Killian’s powerful frame, John wasn’t much, but still—no matter how tall or muscular he was, this kind of work would surely wear him down.
Nael felt guilty.
He had been dragged into a life of being served, while John was thrown into arduous labor.
Nael stared at the ceiling.
‘Just a few months… Then I can go back to the South. Back home.’
He smiled at the thought.
The moment he stepped off the ship, it would be home.
“Mmgh…”
But as he laughed, his stomach tensed, and a familiar warmth trickled out.
Startled, he reached between his legs.
Even after washing, Killian’s seed still seeped from within him.
A thick, sticky clump oozed from his inner walls, making him shudder.
The sensation was unbearable.
He needed to get it all out.
Hooking a finger inside, he scraped at the slick, stretched flesh, and more spilled forth.
The sheer volume was overwhelming.
Nael grimaced, diligently scooping out the remnants.
The feeling of it sliding down his insides was maddening.
Milky-white liquid floated lazily in the bathwater.
“Lord Nael, is something wrong?”
“A-Ah! N-no, it’s nothing…”
“Ah.”
Nael’s face burned with sudden heat.
He had been so focused scooping out that he hadn’t even noticed Ren entering the room.
“I apologize. Would you like me to step out for a moment?”
The embarrassment was overwhelming—so much so that he wished he could disappear into the steam.
But before Nael could answer, Ren spoke again.
“If you need anything, just call me. I’ll be right outside the door.”
“A-Ah! No, it’s fine. I-I’m done.”
Feeling ridiculous for panicking, Nael stole a glance at Ren.
But Ren, unfazed, was simply going about his duties.
While Nael washed himself, Ren busied himself changing the bedding.
By the time he was done, he had also prepared fresh clothes for Nael and set a meal on the table.
Ren never stopped moving.
It reminded Nael of the time in the baron’s house when he had tirelessly worked to handle tasks meant for two people.
Ren was now just like the past version of himself—taking care of all the menial chores, completing each task with quiet efficiency and without a moment to rest.
“…I’m sorry.”
At Nael’s small, whispered apology, Ren briefly paused.
“This is my job.”
“…Do you have any family, Ren?”
“Yes. You remember Norman, the man who treated you? He’s my grandfather. My parents passed away when I was very young, so I don’t even remember their faces.”
“Oh.”
So that’s why Norman always grumbled, ‘That brat, Ren.’
Now that he knew, Nael let out a quiet chuckle.
The soft sound of his laughter rippled through the bathwater before vanishing.
“…Huh? What did my grandfather say? Ah, he told me not to let people talk about me behind my back. Did he badmouth me again?”
“No, it wasn’t that bad.”
He had made an offhand remark about how Ren was useless at everything, but that didn’t count as an insult.
At least, Nael didn’t think so.
Nael hesitated before speaking again.
“Um… what about you? Do you have family, Master?”
“It would be improper for me to speak of His Grace the Grand Duke with my unworthy lips. However, I will say this—His Grace values you deeply.”
“…For now.”
“…Forgive me. I spoke out of turn. If my words have caused you distress, I sincerely apologize.”
“It’s fine. To be honest… thanks to you, I feel much better.”
Really, I’m okay.
Seeing Ren look like he was about to kneel in apology, Nael hurried to stop him.
“Really! It’s fine. Now get up, Ren—I’m hungry.”
He quickly assigned Ren a task, hoping to shift the conversation elsewhere. It worked.
After eating, Nael sat idly, feeling as content as a well-fed cat.
Was it really okay to live like this?
He found himself envious of Ren, who always had something to do.
Killian was supposed to teach him how to read and write, but what about the rest of his time?
He had never known leisure—comfort had always been a luxury beyond his reach.
“Ren? I have a favor to ask.”
“Yes, Nael?”
“I want to work too.”
“…I must have misheard you.”
Nael narrowed his eyes. His slightly pouting lips seemed to say, ‘You heard me just fine.’
Ren coughed lightly and shook his head in mild exasperation.
“His Grace would never allow it.”
“I don’t want to just lie around all day. Back at the baron’s house, I worked every single day without rest. There has to be something I can do. Even if it’s something small—I just can’t stand doing nothing.”
“…I can’t exactly assign you work. But… would you like to explore the ship with me? You haven’t seen all of it yet, have you? Now that we’re getting closer to the North, the air is colder. I’ll prepare a coat for you. We should arrive the day after tomorrow.”
The coat was nothing like the lightweight cloaks he had worn in the South.
It was so heavily lined with animal fur that he looked almost like a snowman.
Only his face peeked out, and his hands were tucked firmly inside the sleeves.
Just how cold was it going to be?
Nael pulled the coat tighter around himself, his hands stubbornly clutching at the thick fabric.
A cool breeze slipped in through the open windows.
The sea stretched out, calm and still.
“Ugh… it’s so heavy…”
“There’s no helping it. Just bear with it a little.”
“But you’re not wearing anything like this.”
“If you catch a cold, my grandfather will have my head.”
Ren spoke matter-of-factly, his tone suggesting he had already been thoroughly scolded by Norman for letting Nael collapse earlier.
Until now, there hadn’t been a moment to properly appreciate the ocean.
The sunlight reflected off the water like scattered jewels, making the surface shimmer.
Nael let out a quiet breath of admiration.
A vast ship cutting through the unfathomable depths of the sea.
A sail adorned with the crest of House Deville. His mouth fell open in awe.
Not a single island was in sight—no roads, no landmarks.
How did they know where to go?
The House of Deville bore the emblem of a raven, wings spread wide as if soaring to the heavens.
A faint scorch mark marred the fabric beneath it—a remnant of Edward’s reckless actions.
Suddenly, Nael found himself wondering what had happened to him.
“Ren, what happened to the young master?”
“You don’t need to concern yourself with that.”
“…Did Master…?”
Did he execute him?
Did he punish him severely?
Nael wanted to ask, but his lips wouldn’t move.
He feared that saying it aloud would make it real.
* * *
