At last, Cailus raised his head and looked down at him, his face still expressionless.
They were close enough for their breaths to brush each other’s faces.
Richard’s fingertips trembled faintly, his lips pressed firmly together.
Cailus’s gaze slowly traveled down Richard’s face, past his nape, and below his collarbone.
“......”
Richard shrank back slightly.
Then it happened.
Cailus planted one hand on the pillow beside Richard’s head.
Richard flinched instinctively, but—
What came next was unexpected.
Cailus quietly pulled away.
Then he slowly leaned back against one side of the bed.
“This should be enough.”
His voice was low.
“Being told to spend a passionate night together does not necessarily mean we must sleep together.”
“......What?”
Richard’s eyes widened.
“We were certainly heated enough, and our emotions clashed fiercely.”
Cailus spoke with both arms braced behind him.
“This should satisfy Daphne’s wish for a ‘passionate night.’”
He slowly extended a hand.
“Still, we should at least observe the bare minimum of formality.”
“...Wh-What do you mean?”
“Spending the night in the same bed.”
With those words, his hand moved toward Richard.
An open palm.
There was no intent to attack, no hostility.
Just a hand held quietly out to him.
“...You mean we should sleep holding hands?”
“You may interpret it that way.”
Cailus answered without meeting his eyes.
Richard remained silent for a long while.
His heart pounded violently, and his face burned.
......This bastard. He’s playing with me.
Even so—
He stared at the proffered hand, then very slowly lifted his own and placed it over Cailus’s.
His hand trembled.
A faint warmth passed between them.
“...Damn it.”
Richard muttered under his breath.
But it sounded closer to self-mockery than a curse.
Without even looking at him, Cailus slowly leaned back once more.
Their fingertips rested lightly atop the covers.
It was unpleasant.
A warmth he neither wanted nor was accustomed to.
Richard silently turned his back and lay facing the opposite direction.
“...Do not come any closer.”
His voice was low and subdued.
“We have held hands, so that is enough. Now... turn around and go to sleep.”
After a brief silence, Cailus turned his head.
His face showed neither disappointment nor anger, only its usual blank expression.
“......Very well.”
With that terse answer, he said nothing more.
Richard silently lowered his eyelids.
As though they had agreed upon it beforehand, they simultaneously shifted toward opposite ends of the bed.
Silence.
The night was achingly still.
Sunlight seeped through the gap in the curtains, faintly tinting the room.
Richard slowly turned his head, squinting against the light through closed eyes.
......What?
The unfamiliar scent of the covers.
Embroidered sheets threaded with gold.
And the sound of breathing, far too quiet.
His eyes flew open.
“......”
His gaze immediately met Cailus’s. Cailus was sitting propped against the headboard, turning the pages of a book.
At some point, he had changed into his formal uniform.
“You’re awake.”
His voice was low and dry.
Richard silently sat up.
The moment he straightened, the covers slipped down with a soft rustle.
The belt of his robe had nearly come undone, and a faint mark left during the night lingered on his nape.
“......”
Richard quietly pulled his robe closed and clenched his teeth.
He knew perfectly well that nothing had happened, yet the entire situation left a foul taste in his mouth.
“You slept soundly last night.”
Cailus spoke softly as he turned a page.
“As soon as I turned my back, you began to snore.”
“...Do not exaggerate. Nothing of the sort happened.”
Richard’s retort was cold.
Cailus neither laughed nor argued.
He merely turned another page.
“...When are you leaving?”
Richard asked expressionlessly.
“There is a knight standing outside the bedroom now. Apparently, to lend credibility to the claim that we shared a bed, we must remain together until at least noon.”
“...What utter nonsense is that?”
“Daphne insisted upon it, I am told.”
Cailus closed the book.
The cover fell shut with a heavy thud as he turned toward Richard.
“We have no public engagements today anyway. Make yourself comfortable.”
“Make myself comfortable? Like this?”
Richard replied sarcastically.
“I wake up to find someone reading at the head of my bed, and I am supposed to relax?”
“It must be preferable to having someone chatter noisily beside you while you are trying to read.”
Cailus added the remark as though it were of no consequence.
“......”
Richard clenched his teeth and pulled a pillow toward him.
His gaze had gone cold as ice.
“Yes, yes. I shall remain quiet as you command.”
With that, he pulled the covers up to his chin and turned his back.
Cailus watched him before slowly rising.
“Good. Then I shall quietly read a little more.”
As though nothing had happened, he sat at the foot of the bed again and reopened his book.
But somehow, he began turning the pages a little more slowly.
Their meal was served in the bedroom.
Because it was their first morning after sharing a bed, the palace maids did not enter to set the table themselves. They merely brought the trays to the bedroom door and left.
“I had them prepare something simple.”
Cailus lifted a fragrant cover.
There was warm soup, freshly baked bread, smoked ham and cheese, and orange juice in a glass.
“It is rather modest for an Imperial meal.”
Still under the covers, Richard spoke without turning around.
A sneer curled at the corner of his lips, and his eyes were filled with wariness.
“I heard you have a small appetite. I was also told you dislike strongly flavored food.”
“...Your intelligence gathering is certainly thorough.”
“If we are to share a room, I ought to know at least that much.”
Cailus picked up a plate and set it on the table beside Richard.
His movements were careful, and his gaze never touched Richard’s face.
“I will not stop you if you mean to starve yourself out of spite... but then Daphne might misunderstand. She might think I truly did something to you all night.”
“I did not realize you were capable of caring about such misunderstandings.”
Richard slowly sat up.
After fastening his robe, he climbed out of bed and walked cautiously to the table.
“Would that misunderstanding not be a remarkably accurate guess?”
“If it were, you would hardly be in such good condition.”
Cailus lifted his spoon and quietly scooped up some soup.
The soup in the slender silver spoon gleamed, neither too hot nor too cold.
Richard sat down expressionlessly.
But he hesitated for a moment before picking up a piece of bread.
“You did not poison it, I trust.”
“Why would I go to such trouble?”
“Do you not hate me?”
Richard hurled the question at him, his gaze frozen with naked hostility.
“I would not resort to anything so foolish that anyone could see through it.”
Cailus slowly took a spoonful of soup.
“......”
Richard turned away without a word.
...So he does intend to kill me discreetly.
Well, it wasn’t as though Richard intended to die easily.
Silence settled over the table once more.
They continued eating for quite some time amid the cold stillness.
Just as the meal was coming to an end—
Knock, knock.
Another knock sounded at the door.
“Dessert.”
A palace maid’s voice came from outside, and the door soon opened cautiously.
Glass dishes stood neatly arranged on a silver tray.
Dark red cherries and cream had been delicately placed atop crimson pudding.
“Cherry pudding...?”
Richard’s question was low and sharp.
As though someone had deliberately laid a trap for him.
An unpleasant sensation crawled up his back.
He raised his gaze.
And found Cailus wearing an inscrutable smile.
“Do you not like it?”
Cailus asked lightly.
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