* * *
Ash-gray smoke curled into the air.
Black birds circled above, shrieking.
Their cries felt like an alarm bell—Killian could not afford to hesitate.
“Your Highness!”
Killian pushed forward, weaving through scorched earth and skeletal trees.
His eyes locked on the smoke in the distance—everything else blurred away.
He neither saw nor heard anything else.
‘Nael is there.’
Only that single thought pulsed in his mind.
‘Those who dared steal what’s mine… I’ll rip them to pieces.’
Flames sparked in his crimson eyes.
Drawing his sword, his gaze blazed with fury as if the enemy commander stood before him.
“Nael!!”
The beastly roar tore through the air.
His voice thundered, announcing his arrival to any listening enemies.
Aiden could do nothing but chase after the Grand Duke.
Emotions he’d never known before—rooted in fear—swirled into a storm.
Grinding his teeth, Killian surged ahead.
The smoke felt like a hallucination.
‘My eyes must be tricking me… because I wanted it so badly.’
It wasn’t far from the villa.
So close, yet he hadn’t found him sooner.
A hut used by hunters—resting between hunts.
Now abandoned, since it wasn’t hunting season.
The wooden shelter was ablaze.
Suddenly, every hair on Killian’s body stood on end.
“Nael!”
Even just whispering his name sent a wave of dread crawling down his spine—the fear that he was already gone.
The flames consumed the hut, sending plumes of ash-gray smoke into the sky.
Thin flakes of ash rode the wind.
As Killian rushed forward, Aiden blocked his path.
“It’s too dangerous, Your Highness. Let us go in first.”
Killian didn’t reply.
He shoved Aiden aside with one arm—an act of defiance from a subordinate against a superior.
Though the fire seemed shallow from the outside, he knew better.
The heat, the way it burned, the stench—it was more than it seemed.
If Killian entered now, he might not make it back out.
When the armory caught fire, everyone had rushed to extinguish it.
Dozens had battled the blaze.
But not here.
No one would stop this fire until the old hut was nothing but ash.
“Your Highness!”
Killian drew his sword toward Aiden, who stood in his way.
“Step aside.”
His voice was cold and deadly, causing Aiden to emit a strangled sound as if his throat were tightening.
Killian didn’t wait for a response.
He shoved him aside.
With a loud bang, Killian kicked the shabby door open.
The worn and tattered wood couldn’t withstand the force and broke apart.
Inside, the searing heat made it nearly impossible to breathe.
The air was so thin it wrinkled his brow.
He shouted Nael’s name, frantically turning his head like a mother searching for her young.
Dry winters with low humidity made fires spread easily.
Especially in rundown places like this—completely defenseless against flames.
Killian’s sense of urgency spiked when he saw the beam holding up the ceiling crackling as it burned.
He had to find him. Fast.
Cough.
A faint cough came from somewhere.
Killian’s every nerve tuned in to the sound.
“Nael! Nael Baker!”
Cough, ju, cough…
Smoke was no obstacle.
Killian deepened his voice and shouted again.
That thin voice held no strength.
Keep calling. Let me find you by your voice, Nael.
Cough, cough.
In a corner, Nael was curled up.
When he saw Killian, he rubbed his eyes.
The smoke stung too much to see properly.
He was too scared and trembling to even get up. In front of the fire, he felt infinitely small.
Tears streamed down Nael’s face.
The air was scorching and thin, making it hard to breathe.
He wanted to crawl out, but it felt like his limbs were paralyzed.
The fire that had started at the door was now roaring up to the ceiling.
His consciousness was fading, and all he could do was tremble.
“M-Master. Cough.”
“Don’t speak.”
Killian threw off his cloak and wrapped it around Nael’s body.
The flames devoured every corner of the house.
The wooden floor cracked under Killian’s weight.
The splitting floor felt like the life path he had painstakingly cleared was now shattering beneath him.
He couldn’t let Nael stand on this anymore.
It was time to break that path completely and rebuild it from the ground up.
Nael slowly closed his eyes in Killian’s arms.
Even unconscious, his eyes didn’t stop tearing up.
“Nael, let’s go home now.”
With that sigh-like whisper, Nael succumbed to the darkness.
The flames rising to their toes opened wide, as if to devour him whole.
He thought he would die.
His body stood frozen, stiff like a log.
No matter how much he tried, not even a finger would move, and he surrendered to the fire.
Everything went dark.
Not a single speck of light.
“Nael, it’s okay now. I’m here with you.”
Gasp, gasp.
He woke up, breathless.
Drenched in cold sweat, even the blankets clung damply to him. As the chill followed wakefulness, he shivered.
A week had passed since they returned to the castle, but Nael hadn’t recovered.
He slept more than he was awake, and when nightmares took over, only Killian’s touch could calm his labored breathing.
Killian didn’t allow anyone else into the bedroom.
Naturally, Nael lay in Killian’s bed, attended to only by him.
Killian often scolded the servants and sighed deeply.
His low, solemn voice reached Nael’s ears, though most of it drifted by in his foggy mind.
“Master…”
Nael slowly lifted his heavy eyelids.
Killian approached and gently stroked Nael’s golden hair with its soft, thick curls.
Smiling more tenderly than ever, he asked:
“Can’t sleep anymore?”
Nael smiled faintly, swallowing his sorrow.
Killian looked utterly exhausted these days.
Yet he still came running, thinking only of Nael’s safety.
It felt strange, but comforting too.
“Master…”
One of Killian’s brows lifted.
He met Nael’s gaze, signaling he was listening.
Nael didn’t hesitate.
The man who spoke a foreign tongue alongside the knight seemed dangerous.
Even just the fact that he had taken Nael without Killian noticing proved as much.
Killian pulled Nael onto his lap.
As the robe slipped, it exposed Nael’s pale shoulder.
Seeing his own name carved below Nael’s collarbone, Killian swallowed down a growl.
That he couldn’t even protect what was his—it was a hellish feeling of helplessness he never wanted to relive.
In Killian’s arms, Nael softly began to recount everything that had happened.
It had been a whole week.
The culprits might already have fled.
When he finished, Killian pressed a brief kiss to Nael’s rounded forehead.
“Everything will be okay now. We caught them. We found their ringleader. No one will ever hurt you again.”
“What about Norman?”
Nael asked quietly, a bit subdued.
Killian pulled him close, as if to cage him in his arms.
Even without hearing the answer, Nael already knew.
He bit his lower lip.
That immense loss.
Nael felt he might understand what it was like for Norman to lose his family.
He never wanted to feel that kind of emptiness again—being alone in the world overnight.
Killian wrapped him in a blanket to chase away the chill, pressing a kiss to his crown.
“Master, I…”
“I know. I promise—I won’t let anything dangerous near you again. I won’t let you suffer.”
Nael gave a faint laugh.
The heavy atmosphere melted away instantly with that smile.
When he laughed, his cheeks lifted round and high, and his eyes curled into crescents.
Killian watched the sparkle in his eyes and kissed his eyelids.
Nael chuckled at the ticklish feeling, burying his face in Killian’s chest.
How long had it been since they’d known such unearned peace?
Nael reached out and gently touched Killian’s cheek.
When Killian leaned into the touch, the warmth of his skin pressed into Nael’s palm.
Killian smiled with a soft curve of his lips.
Nael wrapped his arms around Killian’s neck and pulled him in.
It was a completely impulsive act.
“I always believed you’d come find me, Master.”
* * *
