* * *
The knight scoffed at the answer.
“How pathetic. A whore trying to act all demure is still just a whore.”
“……”
“You think someone like you—no different from a pebble on the street—is worth the Grand Duke’s time? A few gold coins mean nothing to him.”
“……”
Creak. Thud. Creak. Thud.
The knight’s footsteps made the wooden floor tremble lightly.
He walked with a limp, and as he neared, he grabbed Nael’s chin and tilted it up.
Before the pain could register, a foul stench hit Nael’s nose, making him flinch.
It was the same scent Dylan had carried.
The knight had a similar reek.
Nael clenched his teeth and glared at him.
The knight’s lips curled into a mocking smile as he leaned in, voice low like he was sharing a secret.
Nael held his breath to avoid the man’s sour stink.
“Don’t be scared. Just listen. This is a special secret, just for you.”
“……”
“See, we gave the Grand Duke a little present.”
“……”
“Two corpses. That look exactly like you.”
Gasp.
‘Two corpses that look like me.’
As the words sank in, Nael forgot to breathe.
The implication was clear: Killian now believed Nael was dead—and had stopped searching.
“Corpses…?”
BAM! BAM!
A violent pounding shook the door.
The knight stood abruptly.
“So impatient. I’m going! I’m going!”
With a grin, he added, “I’ll tell you more when I get back.”
Nael glanced warily at the door, then toward the room’s only window.
It was small—but just big enough for him to squeeze through.
The problem was, how far could he get, barefoot in the snow?
He reached toward the window.
“Ugh!”
Snow had collected and frozen in the gaps of the window frame, refusing to budge no matter how hard he pushed.
His palms turned red from the effort, and the numbness crept up to his forearms.
Just then, voices drifted in from somewhere.
“—The snow’s stopped. We should move now.”
“Let’s try to find a horse from somewhere.”
“We’ll need Sir Dylan’s permission for that.”
“He’s being held in the Grand Duke’s castle, so we won’t be able to contact him for a while. It’s safer to relocate and reach out separately. Staying in one place too long just makes it easier to track us.”
“What about that guy?”
“Sell him off to a brothel or something. If the Grand Duke took a liking to him, he must be worth something. The tattoo can be covered up. It won’t be a problem.”
The knight let out a sneering laugh, as if everything he said was perfectly normal.
Nael clamped his hand over his mouth to stifle even a breath.
“We’ll scout the area. Check inside the castle and return. Keep watch here.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
“Don’t get careless. Just because he looks stupid doesn’t mean he won’t bolt. Once this job is done, we’ll have enough to get the hell out of this godforsaken North.”
Nael collapsed, as if his legs had given out.
He had his suspicions—but hearing it with his own ears stole the air from his lungs.
He could barely exhale, like someone was squeezing his throat.
His breath came out in fine threads, misting and fading into the cold.
‘I need to find a way. A way for Master to find me.’
The only person who filled his heart now was the one who could pull him out of this place.
At the sound of footsteps, Nael rushed back to the bed.
He threw the cloak over his face to hide his expression and began rubbing his toes as if nothing was wrong.
He tried to act indifferent to the approaching presence, though his heart pounded so loudly it felt like it echoed in his ears.
Creeeak. The wooden floor groaned with a ghostly wail, and a knight entered, letting out a sigh.
“You still haven’t eaten?”
“…I’m not hungry.”
“…”
A sharp silence followed.
With the man’s face hidden from view, Nael couldn’t guess what kind of expression he wore.
The knight poked at Nael’s back with his finger.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m cold. My feet hurt.”
“Ah. Guess we’ll need to get you shoes. Not that it matters. You’ll be on horseback anyway.”
The man pulled up a chair and sat right next to him.
Nael could feel the sharp gaze stabbing into his back like blades.
His spine twitched with tension.
Trying to break the silence, Nael cautiously opened his mouth.
“About earlier… the body.”
“Ah, that? Wasn’t a big deal. Blond hair, green eyes. Hard to come by in the North, actually. But we managed.”
Nael nearly jumped to his feet.
He bit the inside of his cheek hard to stop himself, but couldn’t hide the shiver that rippled down his back.
What is Sir Dylan planning?
He had no intention of sending Nael south.
Those sweet words were lies, like candy meant to distract him.
Because I shouldn’t be by Killian’s side.
Nael forced himself to speak, hoping the man would attribute the tremor in his voice to the cold.
“When does the ship to the South depart?”
“Within three days.”
Killian had once said that northern ports closed temporarily during deep winter—but the man lied without hesitation.
They’re not planning to let me live.
Whether they sold him to a brothel or killed him here, one thing was clear: they would separate him from Killian no matter what.
He bit down on his lower lip to stop himself from crying.
His skin tingled where Killian’s name had been inscribed.
[I’ll carve my name right here.]
[Master’s name?]
[Yes, just below this collarbone, so everyone knows you’re mine.]
‘I have to make sure Killian can find me.’
‘In this vast North, I need to give him a way to pinpoint my location.’
What should he do?
Nael felt despair wash over him.
The cold and hunger were secondary.
He could endure that.
But he couldn’t bring himself to even sip the water they gave him.
He had to return.
He missed Killian—certain that he must be out there, looking for him.
He wanted to hold those vivid red eyes that filled his mind.
‘I miss you.’
Tears welled up, blurring his vision.
Sniff.
A tiny sound escaped him, and the knight scoffed, as if waiting for that moment.
“Crying?”
The mocking voice pierced his ears.
Nael steadied his breath, trying to stay composed.
“It’s just the cold. My nose is running.”
He wiped it on purpose, smearing it on his hand.
The knight visibly recoiled in disgust, muttering curses as he stepped back.
Only after the man took the untouched bowl of soup and left the room did Nael feel the tension ebb.
His teeth chattered uncontrollably, and his whole body trembled.
He stood, limbs weak from crying.
The window still didn’t budge when he pushed it.
Clunk.
Even the soft sound startled him, and he turned his head toward the closed door.
‘What if I break the window?
They’ll lower their guard eventually.
It’s just big enough—I could fit through.’
He sat back on the hard bed, staring at the door.
His thoughts were sharpening again.
Outside the window, dusk had begun to fall.
Golden sunlight poured in through the small window, tinted orange by the setting sun.
Days were short in the North.
Nights, endlessly long.
* * *
