* * *

Kaindel clenched and unclenched his fists.

Of all times, he had left his sword behind for the banquet.

If this suspicious man were to attack him, he had no means to defend himself.

Still, he didn’t feel like calling the guards just for one crazy man.

That would mean admitting he had sneaked out of the banquet hall.

‘Maybe I’ll just wait a little longer.’

As Kaindel pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, the man’s incoherent muttering reached his ears.

“Then was it the Seriel Lake I fell into?”

“What?”

“Never mind, just talking to myself. Don’t worry about it, Kaindel.”

Thank you for caring; it means a lot.

The man slowly shook his head, brushing his hand across his lips.

Then, as if to meet Kaindel’s gaze, he sat down beside him.

He didn’t seem to care that his clothes would be dirtied by the soil and grime.

Such nonchalance was rare among nobles.

“Kaindel, why are you here?”

“I came to rest for a bit.”

“Did you come to meet His Majesty?”

“…I’m here for the patronage party.”

Kaindel glanced up and down at the man’s disheveled appearance, then shifted the topic.

“More importantly, what’s your name?”

“My name? You don’t know it? Oh, right. I guess it makes sense that you wouldn’t know. After all, this isn’t the Kaindel I know…”

The man cut off his cryptic muttering and fell silent.

After a long pause, his eyes lifted to meet Kaindel’s once more.

His silver gaze, unwavering and serene, curved into a crescent moon.

It was a soft smile, beautiful even.

“I guess you’ll only know my name when you’re older. Based on the fact that you didn’t know me when we met at that restaurant.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s natural for you not to understand yet. But someday, I promise I’ll tell you everything, Kaindel.”

“Don’t tell me… you don’t have a name?”

“It’s not that I don’t have one… well, no. I suppose, for now, you could see it that way.”

This man must be completely insane.

Through his conversation with the nameless man, Kaindel came to that conclusion, a sneer tugging at his lips.

Even the pope could only glimpse the future through divine prophecies.

Great sorcerers had to sacrifice years of their lives just to catch the faintest glimpse of what lay ahead.

But this man before him acted as if he already knew the future.

Worse yet, his words were riddled with cryptic nonsense.

It was utterly absurd.

‘I might as well leave and rest elsewhere.’

Realizing that staying any longer would be a waste of time, Kaindel rose to his feet.

But just as he was about to leave, the man suddenly grabbed his wrist.

The grip was weak—desperate but lacking strength.

And yet, Kaindel couldn’t shake off the hand or take another step forward.

“W-Wait a moment.”

As Kaindel stopped in his tracks, the man pulled out a silver necklace from his pocket.

It was a crude piece, with a plain white ring strung onto the chain.

“Oh no, it’s all wet.”

The man murmured apologetically, wiping the necklace several times with delicate hands.

Only after ensuring it was as dry as possible did he offer it to Kaindel, a smile brighter than the full moon spreading across his face.

“It’s a birthday present, Kaindel. I wanted to give it to you on your actual birthday, but, well… I didn’t think I’d get the chance. Since you’re still Kaindel—the Kaindel I love—I’d really like it if you accepted it.”

“A necklace?”

“That’s right. Do you like it?”

“…I…”

I have no desire for something so insignificant.

Kaindel swallowed back the words rising to his throat. Somehow, he felt he had to.

Despite his young age, Kaindel was adept at reading people’s true intentions.

His father had trained him to do so, and attending countless grand banquets had honed the skill further.

The man’s intentions were painfully pure. It was a kind of sincerity Kaindel had never encountered before.

The man’s heart was laid bare—thrilled to be sharing such a moment with him, yet fearful of his reaction after receiving the gift.

The overwhelming affection was palpable.

“To Kaindel I love,” he says.

Kaindel fidgeted with the necklace the man had given him.

For such a small object, it felt unbearably heavy, as though he were lifting a thousand pounds.

Love. That single word the man had spoken tickled his insides, sending warmth to his cheeks.

Just as Kaindel suppressed the cruel retort that had threatened to escape, intending instead to utter a perfunctory word of thanks, he heard his mother’s furious voice echoing through the trees.

“Kaindel!”

She must have come out from the banquet hall to find him.

So, the Duke Bussemug had already departed.

The summons had come sooner than expected, leaving him feeling cornered.

Forcing a polite mask over his features, Kaindel dropped the man’s hand.

Oddly enough, the lingering warmth on his wrist left him feeling regretful.

“I must go now. If, by chance…”

“Hm?”

He hesitated, the words hanging on the tip of his tongue.

He had nearly asked whether the man would be at this pond during the next garden party.

Whether he was or wasn’t should make no difference to Kaindel—it mustn’t make any difference.

The Kaindel I love. The Kaindel I…

…How foolish.

Quelling the faint emotions that had sprouted against his will, Kaindel clasped the necklace behind his back and gave a small bow, observing proper courtesy toward his elder.

“I’ll be back.”

It was the best promise he could manage for now, considering his jumbled feelings.

Thunk—

“What a strange person.”

Reclining in his bed, Kaindel tossed the necklace into the air.

For a moment, the mural painted across his bedroom ceiling—depicting a clumsy youth caught stealing a goddess’s golden apple—was obscured before reappearing.

Thunk—

“A lunatic.”

The necklace, having fallen, landed neatly in his palm again.

He repeated the meaningless action over and over, not out of boredom but because his mind was preoccupied with far too many thoughts.

After spending quite some time like this, Kaindel eventually sat up.

He brushed back his tousled golden hair, which promptly fell back into place, smooth as silk.

The reason for the mural on his ceiling was all too obvious: a constant reminder to pledge his loyalty to the Supreme Deity.

The clumsy youth was meant as a cautionary tale, urging him not to succumb to frivolous desires but to fulfill his duties as a hero born under the deity’s love.

Kaindel hated being in his bedroom.

It was supposed to be a space for rest, but even here, he couldn’t escape the feeling that he was being forced to act the part of the hero.

It felt as though someone were meddling with his brain, bending him into submission despite his resolve to be no one’s dog.

But today was different.

“…I’m going insane.”

* * *