Richard froze.
The warmth of the arms around him,
the firm muscles that had lifted him with ease,
and the impassive gaze bearing down on him from above.
It all felt like a dream.
No, it was closer to a nightmare.
...This is insane.
His vision blurred.
His heart pounded madly, and his stomach plummeted.
“......”
He was in Cailus’s arms.
Those arms were wrapped securely around Richard’s waist,
while his legs dangled helplessly in midair.
No matter who saw them, the position was unbearably embarrassing... and humiliating.
Damn it. I want to die....
His mind drifted farther and farther away.
“...Would you mind letting go of me?”
He barely managed to steady his breathing before speaking.
Even those words emerged in a faintly trembling voice.
“......”
Cailus silently looked down at him,
then slowly raised one corner of his mouth.
“...Very well.”
And then he truly did
release Richard without mercy.
Thud—!
“...Urgh?!”
His body, suspended in midair,
was dropped straight onto the ground without warning.
Richard landed awkwardly.
One leg folded beneath him, while one hand struck the ground as he barely caught his balance.
His head reeled, and his posture was in complete disarray.
“You fucking bastard—!”
His fury and humiliation exploded all at once.
Face burning red, he jerked his head up.
Humiliation, despair, and yet another surge of rage crowded his eyes.
“How could you just drop me like that?!”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Cailus gave a slight shrug.
“No, that’s—!”
“You politely asked me to let you go.”
He answered with an impassive expression, as though he had merely complied faithfully with Richard’s request.
“I only gave you what you wanted. What did I do wrong?”
“......”
Richard was speechless for a long moment.
His lips trembled.
This bastard really...!
It was obviously an insult, but the fact that Cailus’s argument somehow made perfect sense only made him more infuriating.
And at that moment,
memories of several nights ago abruptly surfaced.
That night, on the bed.
Scenes he could not deny but never wanted to acknowledge.
...Ah, damn it.
The tips of his ears turned fiery red.
“Enough. I’ll be going now.”
After speaking, he sprang to his feet and brushed the dirt from his clothes.
Dust scattered in the wind.
Cold sweat streamed down his spine.
“Are you running away?”
Cailus’s voice rang low behind him.
Those few words brought Richard’s steps to an abrupt halt.
“That night,”
Cailus continued slowly.
His voice was low, concealing something sharp beneath it.
“What scheme did you use?”
Richard drew a short breath.
Had Cailus not realized?
That night, he had seemed to know both the potion’s effects and Richard’s intentions....
Yet now he was questioning him as though trying to uncover the truth.
“......”
Richard slowly turned his head.
His expression stiffened, and complex emotions churned in his eyes.
Surprise, confusion, and even a subtle trace of wariness.
But his lips moved shamelessly.
“What do you mean, scheme?”
He shrugged and answered with feigned innocence.
“I didn’t do anything.”
His gaze was confident.
He knew it was a lie, yet his expression held absolute certainty that he would never be exposed.
Cailus stared at him in silence,
then quietly sighed.
“...Fine.”
One corner of his mouth twisted upward.
“Whatever your scheme or objective may have been,”
his gaze gradually turned colder.
Then he said,
“Why don’t we both agree that it never happened?”
They would treat that night as though it had never happened.
“......”
Richard pressed his lips firmly together.
His expression twisted subtly.
It felt as though their positions had been completely reversed.
That was... what I was going to say.
Having Cailus say it first somehow made him feel even worse.
“Very well.”
Richard gave the brief reply and turned away.
In the bleak silence, only the soft sound of grass being crushed beneath his feet could be heard.
Then he abruptly stopped.
He slowly looked back.
“...Your Highness.”
Cailus also turned to face him.
A silent gaze. Eyes that seemed utterly devoid of emotion.
With something resembling a smile on his lips, Richard asked,
“Do you happen to have feelings for me?”
When the question cut through the air,
everything seemed to stop.
Cailus stared at him without moving.
After a long silence,
“...No.”
One cold word tore through the stillness.
His answer was short and clear.
There was not the slightest hesitation or uncertainty in it.
Richard narrowed his eyes.
His lips were still smiling, but a subtle crack appeared in his expression.
“...Then I’m relieved.”
He murmured the words and turned away.
He said nothing more.
Behind him, no further words came.
No answer, no excuse, nothing.
Only the frigid silence flowed between them once again.
Richard walked on, feeling the wind stir his collar.
Behind him, only the fading sound of footsteps remained.
The day of the Imperial hunting competition dawned.
At winter’s end, the forest was blanketed in white frost beneath the cold air, while the fields bustled with nobles.
Tents large and small stretched in a long line beside the Imperial stables, white flags fluttering above them.
This was more than a simple hunting event. It was a gathering place for noble society and a miniature reflection of its power struggles.
The guests were far more interested in who had received whose handkerchief than in the hunt itself.
The highlight of the Imperial hunting competition
was the “token of protection,” in which a young noblewoman presented a handkerchief to the person she loved.
Ostensibly, it was a prayer for their safe return. In truth, it was a public declaration of courtship.
“Your Highness! Please accept my handkerchief!”
“Your Highness the Crown Prince! Over here! I made this silk one myself!”
The laughter and cheers of young noblewomen filled the field.
At the center of it all was Cailus.
Mounted on a black horse and impeccably dressed in a black uniform, he looked like a figure from a painting.
And as always, his face bore a cold, impassive expression.
...Well, he’ll refuse them all.
Watching from a distance, Richard swallowed a hollow laugh.
Cailus had never accepted a handkerchief before.
No matter how prestigious a young woman’s family might be, he always turned away without the slightest interest.
Unless it’s from Lady Beatus....
Richard unconsciously searched for Daphne.
Then he noticed the handkerchief in her hands.
It was small and neatly made, embroidered with pale wildflowers.
Daphne held it carefully between both hands as she cautiously looked around.
Richard’s heart sank for no reason.
...Has she already chosen someone to give it to?
Not knowing whom she would approach filled him with inexplicable anxiety.
Just then—
“Young Lord Friedrich.”
A voice struck him from behind.
Its cold tone and barbed cadence stabbed into his back.
It was familiar.
Richard turned and found a woman approaching on horseback.
Princess Cesica.
She wore a violet uniform with silver ornaments gleaming along its high collar.
A neatly folded purple handkerchief rested in her hand.
“It has been a while.”
She looked down at Richard as she spoke.
Her eyes held unmistakable hostility.
As though she wanted to cut his throat then and there.
“...What do you want?”
Richard naturally took a step back.
His body reacted before his mind could.
She disliked him.
No, she despised him.
Ever since the Duke had been taken away, she had always looked at Richard that way.
“It’s a handkerchief. You’ll accept it, won’t you?”
“...You must be joking.”
He asked in disbelief, but she merely furrowed her brow.
“Take it.”
Her voice was firm.
It was an order.
She looked ready to draw a bow if he refused.
In the end, Richard awkwardly extended his hand.
Rustle—
The purple handkerchief settled into his palm.
More striking than the feel of the fabric was the sharp look she left him with.
Princess Cesica stared down at Richard for a long moment,
then gave a quiet scoff and turned her horse away.
“...What was that? What just happened...?”
Thoroughly confused, Richard stared down at the handkerchief in his hand.
Cold sweat trickled down his spine.
At that moment—
“Um...!”
A familiar voice.
His heart plummeted.
He knew who it was without looking.
Lady Beatus.
She was approaching him with a handkerchief in her hands.
Her expression was gentle, her steps hesitant.
Surely not....
After a moment’s hesitation, she stopped before Richard.
And then
she opened her mouth.
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