* * *
Pushed and pulled by the small crowd, Nael nearly lost his balance.
The children, no taller than his waist, bounced excitedly.
“Let me see too! Don’t push!”
“Big brother, let me have a look too!”
“Is it because of the flowers?”
“Nael, we should return now.”
Nael couldn’t ignore the eager children and chose to disregard Ren’s warning.
One by one, he handed out the flowers.
Before he realized it, his hands were empty.
The children giggled with joy, admiring the petals and comparing their flowers with one another.
Watching them run off into the distance, Nael suddenly remembered—he had wanted to give some to Killian.
Oh well, he could always pick more.
“Nael.”
The stern, heavy voice made his smile vanish.
Dark shadows lingered in Ren’s brown eyes as he spoke, his tone tight with suppressed anger.
“Flower seeds are incredibly rare in the North. They must be purchased from other regions and are difficult to cultivate. Many flowers die before they can even sprout or grow stems. And yet, you gave away something so precious to children. Their parents could work day and night and still never afford or grow such flowers.”
“But… the children looked so happy.”
“Nael.”
Nael flinched, squeezing his eyes shut.
Could the joy in those children’s faces truly be reduced to mere monetary value?
But it was too late.
The children were long gone, and even if he found them, he couldn’t just take the flowers back.
They would be heartbroken.
“I’ll inform His Grace, though I cannot predict how he will react.”
“I’ll tell him myself.”
“…Very well.”
“I did make a mistake, but I don’t think he’ll be angry over something like this. He’s not that kind of person. If I explain honestly, he’ll understand.”
Ren reluctantly agreed but pouted in displeasure.
It was unusual to see the always-polite Ren show even a hint of emotion.
Was he really that upset about the flowers?
Was he worried about Nael getting scolded?
Or…
“Ren, do you want a flower too? Should I ask His Grace? Or we could go to the greenhouse now.”
“W-what! No, Nael, that’s not—”
Ren abruptly turned and hurried back to the castle, leaving his sentence unfinished.
Watching his retreating figure, Nael chuckled.
Ren, who always trailed behind him, was now walking ahead at a brisk pace.
Nael quickened his steps to follow.
Whenever he fell behind, Ren would stop and wait for him, confirming his sulky mood.
“His Grace is too busy to join you for dinner.”
Phillip, ever courteous, poured water into Nael’s glass.
The clear liquid trickled smoothly before he gracefully withdrew the pitcher.
“Is he very busy?”
“Since he has been away for some time, his duties have piled up. He is also scheduled to leave beyond the castle walls tonight. He asked that you rest instead of waiting for him.”
“Will he be gone long? I have something important to tell him. Could you let him know I’ll wait?”
Phillip looked troubled.
He wouldn’t stop Nael from waiting, but he gently warned that it might be a long time.
“That’s fine.”
“If you find yourself bored, I could bring you some books.”
Nael frantically waved his hands.
To him, books were nothing more than lines of black worms crawling across yellowed pages.
No matter how valuable they were, they were useless if he couldn’t read them.
There was no need for Phillip to go to the trouble.
“I’m fine, really. It’s just…”
Scratching his cheek awkwardly, Nael trailed off.
Back at the baron’s estate, being illiterate hadn’t been a significant flaw.
He had neither the opportunity nor the time to learn, and no one had ever offered to teach him.
Learning had simply never been an option.
Sensing Nael’s discomfort, Phillip changed the subject.
“Understood. Then, is there anything else you enjoy doing?”
After some thought, Nael made a request.
“Is this… truly what you enjoy doing?”
Even the seasoned butler was at a loss.
He had granted Nael’s request, but if the Duke were to witness this scene, he could not predict how he would react.
Nael, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, diligently polished each ornament in the room with a damp cloth before drying them with another to prevent water damage.
His skilled movements erased all traces of the servants’ work.
Phillip sighed, feeling as though something was pricking at him.
“You don’t need to do this. The Duke’s household has plenty of staff. As a guest, you should be receiving service, not doing the work yourself.”
Under the moonlight, the exquisitely crafted candlestick gleamed in Nael’s hands.
Sweat beaded at his temples—his body, which had grown accustomed to idleness, ached from the effort.
“I’m doing it because I want to.”
The servants already cleaned the Duke’s chambers meticulously every day.
After failing to dissuade Nael, Phillip finally gave up and left the room, shaking his head.
By the time Nael had polished every decoration in the room, his arms felt too heavy to lift.
He barely had the strength to wring out the cloth.
Sweat trickled down his back, dampening his clothes, and a single droplet rolled down his chest.
The northern nights were long, the sky dotted with countless stars, yet their light did not reach the ground.
Was His Grace alright?
Even though he knew he wasn’t alone, he couldn’t help but worry.
What if the horse lost its footing?
What if his master fell?
At the sound of the bedroom door opening, Nael turned away from the window.
His lips, which had been curved into a bright smile, quickly fell when he saw who was standing before him.
“I’ve prepared your bath. It seems His Highness will be late, so why don’t you retire for the night? It’s quite late.”
Even as he made his way to the bathroom, his gaze kept drifting to the window.
His feet felt glued to the floor, unwilling to move.
Philip spoke in a calm voice.
“It would be best to wash up and wait before His Grace returns. I’ll have the couch moved near the window, so you can watch comfortably.”
“Oh, right. Thank you, Philip.”
After hurriedly finishing his bath, Nael stepped out, only to be met with an empty bedroom.
His shoulders sagged with disappointment.
Droplets of water fell from his still-damp hair onto his bare shoulders.
The couch had been moved closer to the window, likely at Philip’s instruction.
He sank onto it, leaning against the backrest as he gazed outside.
Whenever he caught the faintest movement near the main gate, he sat up straight in anticipation.
Then, after several moments of disappointment, his heavy eyelids finally won. He nodded off, eventually falling into a deep sleep.
Soft morning light brushed against Nael’s face, stirring him from his hazy dreams.
When had he fallen asleep?
He was still in his robe, lying on the couch.
He should have felt cold after spending the night like that, but strangely, he didn’t.
Had Killian returned without him noticing?
“You’re awake.”
“Philip.”
“I was worried you might be cold, so I covered you with a blanket.”
“What about Master?”
Philip shook his head wordlessly before speaking in a gentle tone.
“My Lord, His Grace spends more time away from the castle than within it. There’s nothing to worry about. If he returns, you’ll be the first one he calls for.”
“He’s not hurt, right? What if the horse couldn’t see well in the dark and he fell? Or what if the hooves got stuck in the mud? What if something terrible happened?”
Philip responded with a light smile—because Nael’s worries were unfounded.
“I understand your concerns, but His Grace’s steed is among the finest. There’s no way it would let him fall.”
Though still feeling a bit down, Nael’s eyes suddenly lit up.
If Killian wasn’t back yet, then he could go out to meet him.
He quickly began layering his clothes and turned to Philip.
“What about Ren? I want to wait at the castle gates.”
“…I’ll summon Sir Aiden.”
* * *
