* * *
A sudden question came to mind—what would happen to John and Edward from now on?
He had asked Ren to look into it, but he hadn’t had the chance to meet with him again to ask.
His only duty seemed to be confined to the bed, where he would wake up only to endure Killian’s insatiable desire.
Ren’s expression stiffened for a moment before he shrugged.
“They should be fine.”
“Have you not been able to check?”
“I’ve looked into it from time to time. Sir Nael, you don’t need to worry. His Grace wouldn’t have been able to simply let that situation slide either.”
It was an incident that had drawn the attention of many. Nael understood that from Killian’s perspective, there was only so much leniency he could extend to Edward, even as the son of a baron.
“Let’s go.”
The voyage of over a month had finally come to an end.
The northern winds, on the cusp of winter, were fierce and biting.
Had Ren not prepared for him, he might have frozen stiff in the unfamiliar cold, shivering uncontrollably.
Among the tanned faces reflecting the sunlight, Nael stood out distinctly.
“I’ll carry you.”
“No. I told Master I would walk with dignity. I can’t just ask to be carried now.”
“Then take my hand. Watch your step.”
Grasping Ren’s fingertips, Nael moved his heavy body.
The northern air felt different.
The salty scent of the sea was laced with a metallic chill, welcoming him.
As he stepped off the swaying ship and onto solid ground, he felt the earth beneath his feet.
He couldn’t hide the tension on his face in this unfamiliar environment.
Nael hesitated, reluctant to walk. Without the rocking of the ship, it felt oddly unsettling.
Watching the sailors stride forward without hesitation, he clung tighter to Ren’s hand.
A carriage, waiting nearby, seemed to be watching him.
They had truly arrived in the North.
Placing a hand over his chest, where a small hope had begun to sprout, Nael lifted his gaze to the silent sky.
“Move it!”
“Ugh! Damn it, do you know who I am? How dare you lay hands on a noble!”
A familiar voice rang out. Nael’s eyes were drawn to the sound, to the rough voice spilling from the mouth of a man who looked like a beggar.
It was Edward, floundering in a pathetic state.
His cracked lips were swolRen, and his clothes were tattered, revealing patches of bruised, purpling skin.
Clutching his waist, unable to straighten up, he was helplessly shoved forward.
Yet his mouth never ceased, spewing rage.
Nael moved impulsively.
Seeing Edward in such a miserable state made his heart ache for a moment.
Even if Edward had looked down on him, calling him a half-wit, they had still lived together in the South.
Ignoring Ren’s urgent voice calling him back, Nael walked straight to Edward.
“Sir Nael!”
Nael removed his hat and placed it over Edward’s head.
His golden hair, hidden beneath it, cascaded down in waves.
With teary eyes, Nael looked at Edward.
“Young Master.”
“You half-wit. Filthy beggar.”
Edward’s pained expression twisted in an instant.
His distorted gaze bore into Nael, sharp and filled with contempt.
His fists clenched as if he might strike at any moment.
“Ha. Nael, I see you’ve been selling your ass and living comfortably.”
Edward ground his teeth, so hard his swollen lips split, beads of blood forming.
The moment his kindness was dismissed as cheap pity, Nael’s cheeks burned with shame.
“With that pretty face of yours, you must’ve wrapped the Grand Duke around your finger and lived easy, huh? Isn’t that right? We’re both Bakers, but fuck… While I was sold for a few measly coins, getting stuffed with some filthy prick—! You knew what was going to happen to me. And yet, you didn’t stop it? You just let it happen?”
“I never…”
Edward tore off the hat and threw it to the ground, stomping on it with his dust-covered boots.
Each time he stamped his foot, specks of dirt and grime flew up, soiling the fabric.
He let out a furious scream, as if vomiting up his resentment.
“Disgusting whore! Just like your mother! Tch!”
His spit, carrying the heat of his body, struck Nael’s face.
The harbor instantly descended into chaos.
The sailors and knights, who had been busy with their work, all turned their attention to Nael.
He should have said something.
He should have realized that Killian’s punishment, no matter how justified, wasn’t enough.
If only he had begged for Edward’s forgiveness, even just a single word—it might have made things a little better.
“I’ll speak to Master. If you just wait a little, I’ll find a way—”
“You idiot. And you’re only saying this now?”
The commotion didn’t end until the knight escorting Edward began to beat him.
The knight unfastened the scabbard at his waist and struck Edward’s head, forcing out a ragged scream.
Nael, startled, tried to intervene, but he was a beat too late.
Blood trickled from Edward’s torn forehead, drenching his face in dark red.
“D-Don’t hit him! Ugh!”
“Sir Nael!”
Ren’s urgent voice sounded muffled, as though submerged underwater.
His head reeled from the blow he had taken.
A thin line of blood dripped down his pale skin, forming droplets on the fur of his coat.
“Nael Baker.”
Suppressing the throbbing pain, Nael barely lifted his head.
The crimson eyes that met his were filled with disbelief.
It hadn’t even been an hour since he had promised to obey.
Killian’s lips curled into a gentle arc, but it sent a shiver down Nael’s spine.
He seemed to be imitating a warm smile, an attempt to mask his displeasure.
The realization alone made Nael shrink in fear.
He swallowed dryly.
He couldn’t even register the blood trickling down his forehead.
His trembling hands clutched the hem of his thick, long coat.
He hurriedly stepped forward and knelt before Killian, his unsteady voice revealing his fear.
“Master. I… I was wrong.”
“Norman.”
The sharp reprimand in Killian’s voice pressed down on Nael’s shoulders.
The knight behind him bowed deeply.
“Your Grace, it was not intentional—”
“Ah, so the fool is right here.”
The bustling harbor fell silent, all attention drawn to Killian.
Thud.
The knight dropped to his knees, lowering his head as if to bury it in the ground.
Killian’s gaze, heavy with arrogance, coolly regarded the man as if he were nothing more than an insect.
“You’re so stupid, it’s not even amusing. Isn’t that right, Nael Baker?”
“M-Master…”
Nael was foolishly naive. Innocent and unnecessarily kind. He was too pure, too untouched by the ways of the world.
Weakness was a poison.
Of course, if that damned baron was willing to offer up his own son’s body, it was clear he had taught him nothing of value.
The sight of Nael unhesitatingly offering up the hat his master had given him, just because his eyes had met Edward’s, made Killian’s stomach churn.
Even with Ren at his side, he continued to make trouble.
He was truly a creature that required constant supervision.
It seemed there was still much to teach him.
Killian sighed, exasperated, but at the same time, a strange thrill welled within him.
Nael’s anxious, trembling gaze clung to him.
Ignoring him on purpose would break his spirit.
Would strip him down, piece by piece, until he had no choice but to submit.
Until he became completely dependent on him.
* * *
