* * *
The stable hand looked like a loyal vassal trying to plead with his lord at the risk of his life.
If Klen were a tyrant, that head of his would’ve already flown.
Luckily, Klen wasn’t a tyrant.
If he were, there would’ve been a bloodbath back in the room.
“I’ll be fine.”
“I say this out of concern.”
The story about Klen falling off the horse before—it was probably just an act.
They said he fell while riding a wild horse, yet not a single bone broke?
The stable hand called it a one-time miracle, but I suspected it was all carefully staged.
Even as he saddled the horse under Klen’s orders, the stable hand kept glancing my way.
His eyes seemed to beg me to persuade Klen—or maybe it was a desperate plea to help if he got dragged into trouble.
If he asked for help, it would probably be from the Count, the Countess, or Fabian.
But if they got involved, things would only get messier.
So I gave him a small, reassuring smile.
“……”
Instead, his brow furrowed even more.
Though his face was confused, wondering if I was making the right choice, his hands completed the task flawlessly.
Once everything was ready, Klen lifted me onto the horse first, then climbed up behind me.
One arm wrapped firmly around my waist to hold me steady, the other gripped the reins.
The warmth I’d felt from his chest earlier now pressed against my back—it wasn’t unpleasant.
“As you know, that horse is a bit wild… Please return as soon as you can.”
That was the second time someone told him to come back quickly.
Thanks to the image Klen had carefully built for himself, people seemed to find him unreliable.
“I’ll be careful.”
His cheerful smile only made people more anxious.
He was doing it on purpose—he liked to mess with people sometimes.
Tap—
Neigh!
With a light kick, the horse bolted forward.
It was nothing like the calm horse I’d ridden before.
Barely moments after we set off, the horse started lifting its front legs, kicking its hind legs, shaking wildly as it ran, clearly trying to throw us off.
“Ugh.”
Under normal circumstances, I might’ve enjoyed the thrill, but right now, my stomach churned.
I felt like my insides were about to revolt.
Not controlling the horse myself made it worse, and my body still wasn’t in great shape.
If I fell in this condition, I’d be lucky to survive intact.
“Settle down.”
Whenever the horse raised its front legs, Klen tugged the reins sharply, and when it bucked, he gently stroked its mane.
He handled the beast skillfully, soothing it.
Before long, its wild movements calmed, and it began to run smoothly, as if nothing had happened.
But with the horse under control, another problem arose.
The wind rushing past us at high speed was sharp and cold, making me shiver uncontrollably.
“…!”
Just as my shivering worsened, Klen leaned in, curling around me protectively.
His body temperature should’ve felt cold—he always seemed cool to the touch—but right now, there was a strange warmth.
Once I adjusted to the situation, the horse burst through the gates, racing across the city.
Soldiers, noticing Klen was the one riding, cleared the way, letting us pass through the city gates with ease.
The moment we exited the city, my chest filled with a refreshing sense of freedom.
The wide-open view, the rush of air—it felt like I’d become a bird flying through the sky.
It reminded me of sneaking out alone on horseback before.
The horse thundered forward, unrestrained.
For a moment, I even forgot my aches, simply staring blankly at the rapidly passing scenery.
“If you never rest, of course your body breaks down.”
“…?”
Only after we’d ridden far from the city did Klen finally speak, his lips pressed in a thin line.
I turned my head to look at him.
The motion made my posture wobbly, unstable enough that I could’ve fallen.
But the arm around my waist held me securely, so I didn’t feel like I’d actually fall.
When our eyes met, his lips curled faintly.
It was a smile, but not a bright one—more like the bitter aftertaste of medicine lingering in your mouth.
“You don’t even seem to know why you’re sick…”
“And you do?”
Even I wasn’t sure.
Was this not just a simple illness?
Was there some other reason behind it?
The horse’s pace slowed slightly.
Klen placed his hand on my forehead, brushing my hair back.
Strands slipped between his fingers, fluttering in the wind.
“You’ve hit your limit suppressing your nature without resting.”
“…?!”
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
Despite my stiff, aching muscles, I twisted my body to almost face him.
My neck hurt, my joints creaked, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
‘He knows?’
Cold sweat trickled down my spine.
When? How?
But then, memories flashed through my mind.
Even during the hunting competition against the gargoyle, my body was already struggling.
If I truly were as weak as I pretended, I couldn’t have lasted even a minute against that monster.
Maybe he knew even before that.
He’d acted suspiciously, as if he’d seen through my performance from the start.
The possibility that he’d seen through me was always there—but now that the moment had come, I had no idea how to handle it.
I pressed my throbbing head.
“I—I don’t know… what you mean.”
I decided to play dumb.
My mind wasn’t working properly, my words stumbled, and cold sweat beaded on my skin.
But I forced myself to sit up straight, feigning confidence.
Maybe he was just testing me, seeing if I’d admit I wasn’t truly sick.
“Your fever dropped suddenly, no cough, and medicine doesn’t seem to help, correct?”
“…”
“Not to mention, the moment you stepped outside, you started looking better.”
“That’s…”
I couldn’t deny it.
My body clearly felt stronger now.
If even I noticed it, it must be obvious to him.
At this point, pretending to faint again would be far too suspicious.
“It’s true… maybe the cause of my illness really is psychological.”
If I can’t completely deny it, it’s better to admit to some of it.
Staying composed is always better than stumbling over my words.
Of course, that doesn’t mean I can accept everything.
“But how exactly does that lead to the conclusion that I’ve been suppressing my true nature?”
“Hm.”
Klen gave a sly smile, as if he’d just heard something amusing.
Then, locking eyes with me, he slowly opened his mouth to speak.
“For someone with a chronic illness, your complexion is awfully good.”
“…!”
A sharp jolt ran through me, like my heart just plummeted.
My complexion?
That’s not something I can control.
It’s not like I can use illusion magic to make myself look pale.
“Is that so…? Well, that’s fortunate, then.”
That was the only reply I could muster.
If I look healthier than my fragile body suggests, that’s a good thing.
I want to look healthy, too.
I packed all those feelings into that answer.
Besides, not everyone with an illness necessarily looks sickly.
Taking advantage of the brief moment our eyes broke contact, I turned my body to face forward again.
Without meeting his gaze, the tension and pressure wrapped around me started to dissolve.
The pounding headache finally began to ease.
“…!”
But it didn’t last long.
* * *
