* * *

“That’s the kind of money commoners would have to work half a year to save up. Giving something like that away would cause a huge commotion.”

Lowell pulled out some coins that matched the prices he had studied in preparation for the festival.

“Two chicken dishes, please. That would be five coins, right?”

“Yes. Here you go.”

While Lowell seemed thrilled, Felix realized from the very start that this wasn’t going as planned.

The festival was supposed to be an enjoyable outing to cheer Lowell up, but from their attire to the food, everything had to go through Lowell’s hands.

Felix couldn’t help but question whether he was doing this right.

“Here you go.”

But when Lowell’s face lit up with a sunflower-like radiance, all those pointless doubts vanished.

Felix naturally accepted the chicken dish and, without hesitation, took a bite.

Lowell, on the other hand, widened his eyes in surprise.

He had expected some sort of complaint—“You expect me to eat this?”—but Felix unexpectedly enjoyed the meal heartily.

“You’re surprisingly fine with this kind of food.”

“In war, you eat dirt if you have to.”

Lowell couldn’t even imagine Felix eating dirt.

‘I thought he’d elegantly say, “I’d rather starve,” but I guess everyone’s the same in extreme situations.’

As Lowell bit into the chicken, its rich, savory flavor filled his mouth.

It wasn’t as crispy as rotisserie chicken but more reminiscent of oven-roasted chicken, a nostalgic taste nonetheless.

‘I guess I’m not experiencing morning sickness.’

Lowell devoured the chicken with such gusto it seemed like he might eat the bones too.

He briefly wondered if he had eaten too eagerly but felt no regret—it had been ages since he’d had such a satisfying meal.

Lowell sighed at his body’s limitation of feeling full after just one chicken.

‘In the past, I could’ve easily eaten three.’

Licking his lips, Lowell washed his hands and wandered to other stalls.

Among them, a jewelry stand caught his eye.

Despite not being particularly interested in jewels, he was drawn in by a rare gemstone.

“See anything you like?”

Felix asked, curious at Lowell’s sudden fascination with jewelry.

He hadn’t expected him to be interested, so he found it intriguing.

“These are a perfect match! I’d suggest a pair of rings, but since it’s the last day, there’s not much left. I’ll have to bring more to Phoibos next year,” said the merchant in a distinctive Halo Empire accent.

As the merchant mentioned, most items were already sold out.

But Lowell didn’t mind.

His attention was fixed on a bracelet adorned with an elegant black gemstone.

Since black was considered ominous by the people of Halo, it seemed the high-quality item hadn’t sold well.

“That’s obsidian, imported from the neighboring country.

It’s a top-grade stone, but, as you can see, the color doesn’t sell well here.”

The merchant glanced at Felix’s black hair, worried he might have offended him.

“I think it’s beautiful. How much is it?”

“Three silver coins.”

It wasn’t an easy purchase for commoners, but the brisk sales of other items indicated their quality.

‘Still, that price feels like a bit of a rip-off.’

Lowell hesitated but decided against haggling.

Pulling out the coins, he thought, ‘Haggling in front of the person you’re gifting this to would be embarrassing. Better to just buy it.’

After receiving the bracelet, Lowell took Felix’s hand.

“What are you doing?”

Instead of answering, Lowell clasped the bracelet onto Felix’s wrist.

“It’s my first gift to you. I couldn’t walk away when I saw a gemstone as beautiful as your eyes.”

Had anyone else said it, it might’ve sounded like an insult mocking Felix’s cursed black features.

But Lowell spoke with such pure sincerity that Felix couldn’t detect a trace of malice.

The bracelet’s color didn’t bother him; he had learned that the meaning behind the gesture was far more important.

“Don’t you want anything for yourself?”

Unfortunately, the remaining items didn’t suit Lowell—a bracelet too large, a necklace for women, or rings meant for children.

Felix’s disappointment was evident as he scanned the display.

Lowell figured it was better to buy something than leave empty-handed.

“That one, please.”

Lowell picked the largest ring available.

It was just big enough to fit a slender woman’s or a man’s pinky.

The blue gemstone in the center was pretty but not intricately crafted.

“That looks too small.”

“It’s cute, isn’t it?”

The merchant quickly handed Lowell the ring, who slid it onto his pinky and playfully held it up to Felix.

“It fits perfectly. I’ll use it as an engagement ring.”

“That? As an engagement ring?”

Felix looked dumbfounded, but Lowell was unbothered.

“You’ll buy this for me, won’t you, ‘Rix’?”

Feigning innocence, Lowell teased, calling Felix by an alias.

He knew Felix only carried gold coins but trusted the experienced merchant wouldn’t make a scene over it.

“No need for change.”

“Thank you very much!”

As expected, the merchant discreetly pocketed the gold coin.

Humming a tune, Lowell took Felix’s hand again.

“You’re not seriously using that as an engagement ring, are you?”

Felix held back the urge to say he’d get something better.

Instead, he repeated his question.

Lowell shrugged.

Expensive jewelry only invited trouble, and this modest piece felt just right.

Felix didn’t like it, but seeing Lowell’s satisfaction, he said nothing more.

“Shall we watch that performance?”

A play was about to begin nearby.

It seemed to be the last one of the festival, performed in an outdoor tent.

“Sure.”

Felix, uninterested in anything but Lowell, would’ve agreed to watch a circus if Lowell had asked.

Yet Lowell kept seeking his opinion, hoping Felix would eventually discover his own preferences.

“It’s starting.”

The play was a tragedy.

The first act was a cliché romance where a man and a woman fall in love.

But the second act introduced a war, intensifying the tension.

Deceived by the villain into believing her lover was dead, the woman, Selina, succumbed to despair and took her own life.

“Good grief.”

Lowell sighed, glancing at Felix.

Initially indifferent, Felix became engrossed, frowning in concentration.

When Selina plunged a dagger into her heart, Felix flinched visibly.

During the intermission, Felix suddenly asked, “What would you do?”

“About what?”

“If your lover went to war and died, what would you do?”

His awkward phrasing betrayed his embarrassment.

Lowell thought carefully before answering honestly.

“The living have to keep living.”

The most cliché phrase, yet Lowell believed it to be true.

It wasn’t about suppressing grief and simply carrying on with life.

After allowing oneself enough time to mourn, the best way for those left behind to move forward was to live on, even if it meant carrying the traces of sorrow that refused to fade.

That’s how he had managed to get by when he lost his parents during high school.

“Otherwise, I might have fallen apart long ago.”

Lowell hoped Felix, standing by his mother’s grave with a sorrowful expression, would come to the same realization.

“Really? That’s unexpected.”

But Felix, contrary to the gravity of Lowell’s answer, responded casually, as if it had been a mere question of curiosity.

Lowell nodded, internally thinking that Felix, too, would need to make an effort to overcome future partings.

It was then that Felix spoke again, his next words breaking all of Lowell’s expectations.

“Then, someday, I suppose I’ll meet someone else too?”

It was only then that Lowell realized he had completely misunderstood the intent behind the question.

Felix’s query wasn’t about how to cope with losing someone dear, nor was it an innocent expression of curiosity.

It was something lovers might ask each other to reaffirm their feelings—a signal, subconscious as it may have been, from Felix.

Because of the stiffness in Felix’s tone, Lowell hadn’t imagined it to be such a sweet, intimate question.

By the time he tried to salvage the situation, it was already too late.

“The third act is about to begin!”

Felix’s head was already turned toward the resumed play, showing no intention of listening to anything Lowell might say.

The play ended with the revenge of a man returning from war.

The troupe bowed, and the audience clapped.

Lowell, too, dropped a silver coin into the donation box before standing to leave.

Unlike earlier, Felix didn’t hold Lowell’s hand.

When Lowell, unable to bear it any longer, tried to lightly reach out, Felix ignored him, even turning his head away.

And yet, Felix didn’t even understand why he was upset.

‘How am I supposed to cheer him up?’

* * *