* * *
“You’re finally going to the South, the place you missed so dearly. So why the sad face?”
My lips parted hesitantly. I wiped away the tears and spoke.
“I’ll go with you.”
I grabbed his collar.
Nael, now so close that he could hear my heartbeat, looked up at Killian with tear-reddened eyes.
“The war you’re heading to—I’ll go too.”
“……”
“I know it’s not over. Everyone says the Grand Duke belongs on the battlefield, not in a peaceful castle. You yourself said the next campaign would be in the South. You said you’d take me then. I remember everything. So, Master…”
“……”
“I may not be skilled or helpful, but… I still want to go.”
“The air reeks of blood. Whole corpses are hard to find. It’s full of agonized screams.”
“I’ll go anyway.”
“You won’t sleep well, barely eat. If supply lines fail, you’ll eat the same as the soldiers.”
“That’s fine. I can survive on just one potato.”
“Why…?”
“Because I don’t want to be apart from you. Master, don’t you…”
Want to be with me, too?
Nael asked in a tiny, uncertain voice.
Killian chuckled.
So that’s what this was—Nael wanted confirmation.
That they felt the same.
That it was okay to not endure the waiting alone.
His vulnerability was endearing, and Killian pulled him into a firm embrace.
“What if I said I won’t go? Whether it’s war or anything else—what if I say I won’t go?”
“Would that be okay?”
“Of course.”
Even if it meant becoming a coward, even if he had to lie or make excuses—any of that was fine.
If needed, someone else could go in his place.
He could provide soldiers and supplies instead.
This wasn’t something Nael needed to worry about.
Before, he might have wandered endlessly—but now, he had to stay by Nael’s side.
Sending someone so delicate into hell—it wasn’t something he could forgive himself for.
“Your heart is too soft. It’ll be hard to live in this world.”
His honest feelings slipped out.
“That’s why I need to be here.”
“Yes. Master, you have to stay right next to me.”
Nael stroked his long black hair, stood on his toes, and kissed Killian’s throat.
“Now I’ll choose a jewel.”
“No need. We’re taking them all.”
Nael surveyed the jewelry boxes that not only took over the table but spilled across the floor.
The gems sparkled like rainbows in the sunlight, yet Nael seemed to be the only one bothered by it.
There were simply too many.
He had no dresses that would suit such ornaments, nor did he have nearly enough space to store them.
“I should tell Philip to sort them and send them to the Baron’s estate.”
“To the Baron’s estate…?”
“Yes. Someone needs to manage the empty manor, don’t you think? Lily is clever enough to read, so I believe she can take over your role. Of course, it’s too sudden now, so she’ll be guided by someone reliable.”
When Nael first heard the news that the Baron had been attacked and gone missing, he was restless.
Aiden brought the Baroness’s handkerchief, saying the entire family had disappeared and their coach had been found, twisted and smeared with blood.
The drops of blood had dried into a dark brown on the cloth.
Even Edward’s survival was uncertain, but from the amount of blood, Aiden concluded he’d likely been devoured by wild beasts.
Everyone expected Nael, known for his tears, to break down immediately.
But contrary to those expectations, he accepted it quietly.
He only nodded his small head once and said he understood, never asking again.
Perhaps, deep down, Nael had come to resent them.
After sending his ailing mother to the heavens, Nael was left with yet another burdened family member.
Struggling just to stay alive, he had no energy to look after others.
He kept the cabin with Lily, doing what was asked of him and enduring their cruelty when needed.
After years of the same routine, topped with Edward’s accident, Nael had probably grown numb. That’s what Killian assumed.
As soon as he received the news, Killian dispatched a letterbird to the South.
A large raven, like a hawk, soared into the sky carrying a short message.
His instructions were to have everything perfectly prepared before Nael arrived at the Baron’s estate.
“Baron Nael Baker.”
The new title sounded foreign to his ears.
“Baron… really?”
Killian just looked on fondly as Nael rolled the name around in his mouth, finding it endearing.
“It still feels weird.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
“I suppose.”
Since there were no bodies, the Baron’s funeral would be held quietly in the South.
A priest would come, say prayers, and bury an empty coffin, believing the dead would return to the god who birthed them.
Nael’s last memory of the Baron was being shoved into a bedroom with threats.
Even after the Baron came North, they never met.
Nael made no attempt to see him either.
It was more accurate to say he was afraid.
He feared punishment for not protecting Edward.
Though Killian had claimed him, if the Baron had raised his hand, Nael knew he would’ve submitted without resistance.
Killian, ever the realist, said it was common for the desperate to turn to evil in times of famine.
While their deaths were unfortunate, there was no need to mourn—such things happened all too often.
He said it knowing Nael, who didn’t show it outwardly, would slowly be eaten away by guilt.
“It’s not your fault. Edward brought them to the North by his own doing.”
They were in front of the fireplace when Killian wrapped an arm around Nael’s waist.
Though grown, Nael’s small frame fit perfectly in his arms.
Nael rested his cheek against Killian’s chest, so firmly it looked like his face might melt into it.
It had become a habit at some point.
Killian didn’t mind.
The way Nael’s breath tickled his chest through his small nose was oddly pleasant.
He swallowed a sip of red wine from a clear glass.
The gulping sound echoed clearly in Nael’s ears.
“The ship leaves in two days. Before that, those who kidnapped you must be dealt with. What do you want to happen?”
“…”
“I’ll allow anything—except forgiveness.”
“Back then… I was terrified. I thought you wouldn’t find me, that they’d send me far away forever. Sell me to a brothel, make me live like something less than human…”
Nael tilted his head up and kissed Killian’s jaw.
Killian placed the now-empty wine glass back on the table.
The firelight reflected in the glass, reminding them both of the fire that day.
Nael buried his face in Killian’s chest and desperately inhaled his scent, like it was medicine for his pounding heart—one that actually worked.
“If I never got to see you again… just the thought of it. But, Master, I have no right to decide their fate. All of the North is yours, so I will obey. But as for what becomes of them…”
“…”
“I don’t want to know.”
“All right.”
So it must be kept from your ears.
Even though Nael didn’t finish his thought, Killian already knew what he meant.
He had half-feared that Nael, soft and gentle as he was, might beg him to spare them.
If the choice were his alone—
He wouldn’t hesitate.
* * *
