* * *
“Come find me when you graduate and return to the castle. We can talk about the things we couldn’t discuss now, by then.”
“Yes… alright.”
Ranshel replied weakly, sounding disheartened.
But suddenly, a hand appeared over Ranshel’s shoulder.
“Time for my reward, don’t you think?”
“…I don’t have any money.”
“Not that.”
Doter flipped his hand so the back was visible, then lowered his arm and tapped Ranshel’s fingers.
It was the hand wrapped in bandages.
“Forgive me.”
“…….”
“Don’t hate me, and let’s stay friendly. Promise.”
Doter held out his pinky finger.
Caught off guard, Ranshel hooked his pinky with his, letting out a small laugh.
It was such a childish promise, but strangely, it felt trustworthy.
“Okay, promise. But you have to help me a lot.”
“Of course. You won’t find a better ally than me.”
“Hmm… I’m not so sure.”
“No, really. Look at how much I’m already helping you. Though, I should probably let go now, I’m starting to get nervous.”
“…What?”
Doter, finishing his sentence vaguely, leaned back without explaining further.
Before long, the surroundings began to grow noisy.
The noble students, having finished their exams, were pouring out through the school gates.
Ranshel’s wheelchair rolled forward, weaving through the crowd, and that’s when Zavad came into view.
It had only been half a day apart, so why did it feel so nice to see him again?
Ranshel smiled brightly without even realizing it.
But as the crowd parted more, shimmering golden hair caught his eye, right next to Zavad.
Zavad’s gaze was also directed that way.
‘Right, of course, they’d run into each other at the exam venue.’
It wasn’t unexpected, so Ranshel wasn’t particularly bothered.
But the moment Zavad lifted his gaze—smiling softly at Frey—and their eyes met, the smile on Ranshel’s face slowly faded.
It had been a while since he’d seen that expression—an unbearable look of brewing irritation.
It was the same feeling as when they first met, back at Pomel Castle, with Zavad hiding inside that storage room.
No, oddly enough, this time felt even worse.
Hadn’t things gotten a little better between them?
At least a bit of warmth?
Zavad had even patted his head. Could that really have been just an illusion?
Confusion swirled in him, but Zavad’s eyes were filled with something closer to contempt and anger.
Ranshel’s energy drained away.
‘Yeah right… as if he cares about me…’
Doter really lied too easily.
“Oh, Hans. You’re looking much better now. From a sobbing crybaby to a reliable bodyguard, huh?”
“Ahem… thanks for staying with me…”
“Don’t mention it. I’ll go tidy up now. Gotta start preparing to leave.”
Hans, having wiped away his tears, appeared, and Doter left the scene cheerfully, as if his job was done.
Hans resumed pushing Ranshel’s wheelchair from behind.
Ranshel, now thoroughly downhearted, headed toward the school gate.
The convenient system of not having to walk wasn’t making him happy at all.
Zavad, standing nearby with arms crossed, kept glancing his way—but his eyes were so sharp, Ranshel didn’t want to get any closer.
Today was far from comfortable.
Ranshel didn’t have the strength to deal with Zavad’s temper.
“Danie!”
Frey spread her arms wide toward her maid.
Danie, who had been with the escort knights, quickly rushed over to her.
“Did everything go well?”
“Yeah, all good. I don’t think there’s anything to worry about now.”
As the two reunited and chatted warmly, Ranshel stared blankly into the air.
He wanted to follow Doter and leave, but his legs weren’t his own.
“I’ll see you next time, then.”
“Take care.”
Once Frey left, Zavad immediately approached them.
The glare he’d given Ranshel transformed into a gentle expression directed at the escort knights.
“Thanks for waiting, everyone.”
“It’s no problem, young master.”
“Looks like we have a long journey ahead. Let’s pray for a safe return.”
That bizarre holy act of his was still ongoing.
Ranshel felt thoroughly bitter, but the escort knights gazed at Zavad with heartfelt admiration, hands clasped.
Rumors of Pomel Castle’s ‘evil spirit’ probably weren’t a concern anymore.
“Hans, if you have any messages for your mother, now’s the time.”
Zavad kindly offered as he grabbed the wheelchair handle.
His devoted new follower, Hans, bowed repeatedly with gratitude and headed over to the escort knights, planning to send word to his mother via those returning to the castle.
“Petro, do you have any instructions about the gardens?”
After sending Petro over as well, Zavad’s expression instantly changed.
Now that only Ranshel remained, there was no need to put on an act.
Ranshel’s mood worsened.
He didn’t expect special treatment, but wasn’t this blatant disdain a bit much?
Zavad was so benevolent to everyone else, but why only toward him was he so fierce?
No, he actually knew why.
To Zavad, Ranshel was exactly the kind of person he could treat that way.
There was no reason to be kind.
No need for effort.
If someone wasn’t worth the trouble, he wouldn’t waste energy.
That was always Zavad Pomel’s nature, even in the original story.
Ranshel hadn’t forgotten.
Zavad only opened up to Frey.
His attitude toward others depended entirely on their usefulness.
That cruel indifference made him even more popular—the way he was cold to everyone but the heroine.
But why did it feel so unsettling?
Why expect anything else when he already knew this?
He thought he had at least reached Petro’s level now… but he hadn’t.
He was still far beneath him, and that was all.
Ranshel stared sullenly at the ground.
Just then, a blunt question came from behind him.
“Who was that guy earlier?”
“…Huh?”
“The guy behind you. Not Hans.”
“…Ah, you mean Lord Doter?”
Ranshel was truly dumbfounded.
What kind of question was that?
“What do you mean, what was he? He’s part of your escort unit.”
“So he shows up to guard me, wastes time, and leaves like some useless freeloader?”
“…Why are you saying that? What’s wrong with you?”
It wasn’t good to start planting such an image now.
Doter was someone who could be a huge help to Zavad.
But if Ranshel explained what happened today in detail, he’d also be exposing himself as an assassin.
He rolled his eyes, thinking hard, before speaking.
“Lord Doter is… um, kind, cheerful, and really well-spoken. Oh, you remember the quail, right? You didn’t eat it, but that was him. He hunted it. It’s not easy to shoot such a small bird in unfamiliar woods. He’s really skilled with a bow.”
Ranshel did his best to praise Doter without revealing his own secrets.
He hoped Zavad would see Doter as a talented individual.
But Zavad let out a laugh, as if it was absurd, then walked over to stand right in front of Ranshel.
His voice came out like he was spitting the words.
“Seeing you say that nonsense again, it’s clear you’ve learned nothing. Maybe wash your eyes properly next time? Stop praising just anyone.”
“No, I mean it this time…”
It was so unfair. Doter was truly capable… Ranshel wanted to defend him.
“…What’s with your hand?”
But he didn’t get the chance.
Zavad’s gaze, which had been scanning Ranshel, now landed on his bandaged hand.
It seemed any interest in Doter had long disappeared.
“Oh, on the way here, I just… it’s nothing, really.”
“What do you mean nothing? What happened?”
“I cut myself on something sharp. Just a little accident.”
“How’d you end up grabbing something like that? Explain it properly.”
“There’s nothing much to explain. It was so minor I already forgot the details. You might not understand, young master, but when you work, your hands get hurt more often than anywhere else. For me, it’s just common, happens all the time — nothing worth remembering.”
Ranshel rambled nervously.
Over-explaining could easily lead to revealing too much — and expose his identity.
There wasn’t much from today’s events he could honestly confess.
It was safer to stay quiet.
“……”
Zavad let out a heavy sigh.
His eyes, fixed on Ranshel’s hand, slowly drifted away.
‘Is it over…?’
* * *
