* * *
When he returned to the room, Klen didn’t say a word, even as the night grew late.
“There’s a hunting competition?”
“…Pardon?”
“I heard there’s going to be a hunting competition next week.”
In the end, it was me who had to speak first, flipping through the pages of a book I wasn’t even reading.
Another page had turned without me taking in a single word.
Klen’s eyes widened in surprise.
I was even more startled by myself for realizing so quickly that he wasn’t faking it.
“How did you find out?”
“The Countess paid me a visit.”
“Ah…”
Seeing his brows furrow, it was clear she hadn’t told Klen anything.
“Mother’s unexpectedly quick to act.”
Even Klen hadn’t anticipated the boldness she showed this time.
He must’ve been the one who shut down all conversations using the excuse of my frailty—not for my sake, but for his own.
He clearly hated bothersome things.
He’d even looked slightly pleased at the thought of avoiding it.
Maybe the Countess had been so persistent in trying to involve me because of Klen.
If someone as slippery as him kept wriggling away, and a new method of catching him appeared right in front of her… why wouldn’t she use it?
And if she could convince me, I’d make a great lure.
“But… I didn’t expect them to hold a hunting competition in a forest they’re supposed to be protecting.”
Hunting competitions usually involved catching rabbits, deer, or wild boars.
Sometimes, to stir up excitement, animals were pre-raised and released just before the event.
Those unfamiliar with the wild didn’t flee well, so they were easy prey—something some people enjoyed.
‘I hate that kind of thing.’
Turning something like that into amusement was deeply off-putting.
Hunting should be for survival, not for fun.
“Didn’t your mother explain that?”
“Explain what?”
“Our hunting competitions are a little different from other regions.”
When Klen climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipped on one side.
That’s how close he was.
He flopped down, then shifted a little closer.
Was it just my imagination?
It felt like the distance he left between us kept shrinking.
“How are they different?”
“We don’t hunt animals. Killing for fun rather than for food… that sort of act would only provoke the wrath of nearby divine beasts and spirits.”
My head bobbed up and down without hesitation.
What a relief.
These people seemed to think like I did.
Klen smiled, apparently amused by my reaction.
“Instead, we hunt monsters.”
“…!”
‘Monsters.’
That was a surprisingly clever and unusual kind of hunting competition.
“Some monsters kill animals just to torment them. Others keep finding their way into the forest no matter how hard we try to stop them—it’s a real headache. Plus, we have to be mindful of the local security.”
“We even found the corpses of orcs and goblins nearby.”
“Haha. Did Mother tell you that too?”
Maybe Klen really was the reason behind this whole competition.
I closed the book. I hadn’t been reading it anyway.
Klen took the book from my hands and placed it on the table, then patted the bed gently—an invitation to lie down.
I lay down a little distance away from where his hand had touched the sheet.
Even then, his warmth reached me.
It was a strange feeling—getting used to always having someone by my side, feeling them there as I drifted off to sleep.
“Maybe I should have cleaned up afterward…”
Clen muttered softly.
He sounded regretful, but there wasn’t a shred of sincerity in his tone.
“Oh, right.”
Just as I was about to close my eyes, his voice woke me again.
“I heard you were sweating cold and had a fever earlier… Are you okay?”
His hand on my forehead felt cool.
Not cold like ice, just pleasantly cool.
Maybe that’s why it felt nice.
My fever from earlier had already gone down, but his touch still felt refreshing.
His body temperature must be pretty low.
“Seems like the fever’s gone.”
He seemed aware that his hand was cold, judging the warmth of my skin against his own to figure it out.
Should I fake being sick?
The thought swirled briefly in my mind, but I quickly decided against it.
Klen might say something like the Countess did—about punishing the healer.
And who knows where that foul-tasting, suspicious medicine would appear from again.
I quickly opened my mouth.
“I only felt like that because I moved around a bit. I’m fine.”
“But the maid said you were drenched in cold sweat, and your face was so red she thought something terrible was happening. She even grilled me, asking if I’d brought the right medicine.”
I did look like that on the outside.
But it wasn’t from being sick—it was just the aftereffects of a good workout, and the heat, too, was from effort.
Even if Klen pretended to be clueless, he was still a noble.
For a maid to confront him like that… isn’t she a little too bold?
And the fact that she suspected Klen of bringing the wrong medicine instead of blaming the healer was impressive.
“…I’ll explain everything to her properly later.”
Not that I was sure how much she’d believe.
“Then, are you really okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Rather than concern, his face next to mine held curiosity.
He almost looked amused.
‘Did he see through my act?’
Cold sweat began to form on my hands.
I found it hard to keep looking at his face, so I turned my head, pretending to shift positions.
And this time, I really did close my eyes.
Yet even behind closed lids, I could feel his gaze.
Sometimes he acts like he’s seen through my performance.
But when I pretend to be weak and collapse, he looks at me with concern again.
Since he never asks directly, I can’t confirm it myself.
A crisis in my still-brief career as a pretender.
I really wish I could peek into Clen’s mind and see what he’s thinking.
*
After that day, I never exercised in my room again.
But I couldn’t forget how good it felt to move my body, so I eventually began sneaking out under the excuse of taking a walk to get in some light exercise.
The attendant, perhaps trusting me at least a little, would leave me alone if I said I wanted some time to myself.
Of course, if he saw even a hint of heat in my face, he’d panic and drag me straight back to my room.
He’d make a big fuss about me collapsing from the sunlight, and if I even stumbled slightly, he’d bombard me with concern.
My image as a frail person was still going strong.
Today, too, I walked the path with my attendant.
With the hunting competition approaching, the usually quiet castle had begun to bustle.
The excitement in the air rubbed off on me, and I started to feel giddy for no reason.
‘Ah… I want to spar.’
I wanted to channel this excitement into a proper match.
Now that my body had tasted real movement, it longed for more.
How wonderful it would be if I could freely wield my sword in the hunting competition.
“….”
But I couldn’t. If I couldn’t participate, then at least I wanted to watch someone else.
I turned on my heel.
“Sir Adrian. I, uh…”
“Shh.”
* * *
