* * *
The final stretch of the voyage disappeared as if stolen from memory.
Killian entrusted almost everything to Aiden and rarely left his quarters.
Meanwhile, Nael spent all his waking hours in bed with Killian, and sometimes even those meant for sleep.
There were moments when Killian would slide himself into Nael while he was dozing, stopping only when Nael woke up in tears.
During their time together, Nael reached his climax multiple times in a single session until he was spent, left trembling at dry peaks.
When he teetered on the edge but couldn’t release, he would cling to Killian in desperation, pleading for permission to come.
Finally, as they neared the northern lands, the distant shore appeared as a speck on the horizon.
In about an hour, they would set foot on land.
Despite the anticipation of arrival, Nael let out an involuntary sigh—his aching back refused to cooperate.
“Ugh…”
“Are you all right?”
Ren, noticing his discomfort, gently patted his waist in concern.
“If you permit it, I can carry you to the carriage. I will inform His Grace in advance.”
“What about Master?”
“His Grace will ride on horseback all the way to the castle. He is a symbol of the North. He must display his presence to the northerners. He cannot accompany you. He has instructed me to escort you to the carriage instead.”
Nael gave an awkward smile.
The distance between them remained unbridgeable. Killian held a formidable position within the empire, his achievements vast and legendary.
He had never lost a battle, and his name carried weight even in the most remote rural estates.
Meanwhile, Nael was nothing more than a lowly commoner.
“Yes, Ren. I’ll be in your care.”
He donned a coat and hat made of processed animal fur, leaving only his eyes and nose barely visible.
The man reflected in the mirror was wrapped in layers of fur, his expression one of resignation.
“I think I’m wearing too much.”
Killian must have ensured everything was properly prepared, but this felt excessive.
The sheer weight of it pressed down on his shoulders as if trying to bury him into the ground.
Looking down, Nael saw Ren tightening the laces of his thick boots.
Unlike him, Ren wore only a thin leather coat.
On impulse, Nael took off his hat and placed it atop Ren’s head while he was focused on tying his shoes.
Len blinked his brown eyes in surprise, gauging Nael’s intentions.
Nael simply smiled at him.
It wasn’t much, but at least now Ren looked warmer.
“The hat covers my eyes.”
“Nael, this is not something that was bestowed upon me.”
Nael flapped his arms, making the heavy fur coat sway clumsily.
“If I wear any more, I’ll look like I’m dragging around a blanket. Everyone will laugh at me.”
“Southern people struggle to withstand the northern cold. Though this isn’t the harsh season, I must follow His Grace’s orders. Please understand.”
Len took the hat off and placed it back on Nael’s head.
As he pressed it down, it covered Nael’s eyes completely.
He had to pull up one side of his coat sleeve just to adjust his outfit.
Watching his struggle, Ren cleared his throat in mild embarrassment.
Beneath the brown fur, Nael’s golden hair shimmered like crushed jewels, his lips curving into a soft smile.
The sight reminded Ren of a fairy forced to wear clothes made of skinned animals.
“Ahem, it seems hastily prepared and a bit too big.”
Nael hardly recognized himself in the mirror.
Back in the South, a thin shirt and pants had sufficed.
Even in what was considered winter there, a light layer was enough.
What kind of winter awaited him in the North?
Lost in thought, Nael’s reflection was suddenly overshadowed by a towering figure.
“Am I interrupting?”
A deep, noble voice wrapped around him.
The steady clack of polished boots approached.
The moment Killian’s refined features came into view, it felt as if all the light in the room had been absorbed into him, casting the surroundings into shadow.
Nael stared, unable even to blink, his green eyes struggling to contain the sight of him.
Killian’s crimson gaze swept over him, meticulously taking in every detail.
That piercing scrutiny set Nael’s face ablaze.
The memories of that morning—being stripped bare, crying beneath him—flooded back, making his embarrassment swell all over again.
“Nael Baker.”
Nael flinched.
Whenever Killian was displeased, he called his full name.
His emerald eyes darted about, unable to find a place to settle, landing only on the mirror.
“When your master enters the room, you come to him.”
“Oh… Yes, Master.”
Nael’s expression softened as he stepped forward.
“We’re really getting off the ship today.”
“Mm. We’ve arrived. We’ll disembark soon.”
“This was my first time on a ship, and for so long, too. Actually, I’ve never been on one before at all. I just want to set foot on solid ground again. I can’t even remember the last time I did.”
“I see. It’s been a while for me too.”
Isn’t the North his home?
The word ‘a while’ sounded strange.
Nael tilted his head slightly, waiting for him to elaborate, but Killian’s lips remained firmly shut.
His gaze outside the window was unreadable, clouded with something Nael couldn’t decipher.
“Um…”
After a short silence, Nael gathered his courage to ask—but just as he was about to speak, his voice was abruptly cut off.
Killian’s low, solemn words filled the space instead.
“Len.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“If Nael tries anything foolish, break his ankle. Nael, if you cause a commotion like you did at the harbor, I will have Ren beheaded before your eyes.”
His warning carried a chilling finality.
Nael hadn’t even thought of running away, yet Killian still distrusted him completely.
The shift in Killian’s gaze was like ice settling over him.
“Answer me.”
“…Master, I… Yes, Master. I won’t run. Please believe me. I’ll spend the winter quietly and return to the South with you.”
“Good. That’s how it should be.”
Killian firmed his expression, making sure Nael understood.
A tiny fledgling like him could try to take flight at any moment—so it was best to clip his wings now.
Just as Killian turned to leave, Ren interjected.
“Your Grace, Nael seems to have some trouble with his waist. I intend to carry him to the carriage.”
“I see.”
There was neither approval nor disapproval in his tone—just indifference.
His voice was devoid of inflection, leaving the matter entirely in their hands.
As the sound of his footsteps receded, Nael hurried after him.
Killian halted at the sensation of being followed.
Nael hesitated before lowering his head.
“I’ll walk, Master.”
“Will you manage?”
Nael nodded vigorously. He didn’t want to provoke him any further.
If he could stand, he could walk.
He had already rushed to catch up to Killian’s long strides, after all.
Seeing this, a satisfied smile appeared on Killian’s lips.
“Then do as you wish.”
With that, he placed a brief kiss on Nael’s cheek before leaving.
Nael reached up, touching the lingering warmth with his fingers.
“He must be quite busy,” Ren remarked.
“Oh! Ren, what about John and Edward? Are they heading back now? Can I see them off?”
* * *
