Delroz’s expression darkened even more, as if Banteon’s words had affected him deeply. Was he being pathetic for getting hurt by a mere piece of paper? Was that what Delroz was thinking? Banteon felt wronged too. It wasn’t like he wanted to get cut and bleed over a piece of paper.
“That’s not it. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have gotten hurt at all.”
“I see. So it’s my fault…”
Now Delroz’s complexion had sunk, dark as the shadow falling beneath his feet. Watching him, Banteon let out a sigh. Surely he hadn’t followed him all this time just to talk about this. He was obviously skirting around the main issue—there had to be something else.
“So what do you really want?”
“……”
“Should I guess?”
Since Delroz wouldn’t say anything, Banteon had no choice but to speak first. It was a waste of time to keep dragging this out pointlessly.
“You came to say I was wrong about the Guide Awareness Syndrome, didn’t you? That you were right and I was wrong. That’s why you’ve been tailing me like this.”
“That’s not it.”
“If it’s an apology you’re after, fine. I misjudged you. I even had you isolated because of my mistake—if you want compensation, I’ll provide it.”
At the mention of compensation, Delroz flinched and lifted his head.
“I don’t want anything like that.”
“Then what the hell do you want?”
Why keep trailing him, practically draining his blood drop by drop? When Banteon pressed him impatiently, Delroz finally sighed and spoke.
“The problem… I guess it’s that you finally know I meant every word I said.”
“Yeah.”
“Every time I see you with another Esper, it twists something inside me. I want to get closer. I finally believe my feelings are real.”
“…Right.”
“So what now?”
Even if Delroz was being sincere, that didn’t give Banteon any reason to change his stance. He had made it clear from the beginning that he wasn’t interested. At this point, repeating himself felt like a waste of breath.
“You…”
“No, I know exactly what you’re going to say. You’ll just brush it off like always. Say I’m not your type and that’s that.”
Before Banteon could say something like, Why should I care whether you’re serious or not?, Delroz gave a bitter smile and answered himself.
“If that’s the kind of answer I’m going to get anyway, then I’d rather just stay quietly by your side. I’ve been following you silently, haven’t I?”
As if the reserved version of him until now had been a lie, Delroz laid his heart bare with raw honesty. His voice, finally pouring out all at once after being held back for so long, carried emotions too tangled to untangle.
His golden eyes, brimming with suppressed feelings, had settled into a quiet stillness. Like a flame that burns hottest in silence, the emotion flickering within him was anything but light.
“Come inside.”
He pushed the door open.
He hadn’t wanted to bring Delroz into his private space, but this wasn’t something to talk about in a hallway where anyone might hear. If it was a confrontation that had to happen eventually, it was better to get it over with.
He sat Delroz down in front of the table used for entertaining guests and leaned back against the desk stacked with documents. This wasn’t some cozy chat—they weren’t here to sit face-to-face and bond.
“So, you’re saying you don’t want anything else. You just want to stay near me a little longer?”
“Yeah.”
His hand instinctively reached for the drawer to take out a cigar, but he stopped himself. His fingers, left without a purpose, tapped awkwardly on the table.
So that was why he’d been following him so persistently—just to stay nearby. What had seemed like childish behavior was actually the result of deliberate thought, at least in Delroz’s own way. Knowing that Banteon would reject him outright, he’d chosen to stay close without saying a word, so he couldn’t be pushed away.
The reason for his actions over the past few days turned out to be surprisingly simple.
In a way, it was a clever strategy. If he had told the truth from the beginning, Banteon would’ve shut him down on the spot and walked away—but instead, he’d managed to stay around for days.
“Delroz. I get that you’re being sincere. So let me be sincere too.”
“……”
“You were right. I’m uncomfortable around you.”
When Delroz looked up, the pain in his gaze stabbed straight into Banteon. Even the lightest offer—just to stay by his side—had been rejected, and the golden eyes sunk deeper.
“It’s not just a matter of preference. Your impulsive thoughts, your unpredictable actions—I can’t handle them. It’s more than just a difference in how we were raised. You know it too, don’t you? From top to bottom, we’re different. Everything from how we talk to how we dress…”
He stopped himself, taking a breath before continuing.
“…It’s exhausting to deal with your outbursts, and it’s a hassle to constantly fend off your suspicions about the people around me. Just watching you is tiring.”
Getting all of that off his chest left him feeling both lighter and heavier. He rubbed the back of his neck and turned his head. Delroz had lowered his gaze and was quietly listening.
After being called out this directly and in such detail, anyone would be hurt—but Delroz’s gaze didn’t even flinch.
“Is that all?”
“What?”
“Things you don’t like about me. You’ve mentioned my way of speaking, how I act, how I dress. What else do I need to fix?”
Delroz muttered quietly, sinking into thought.
“My face? My voice? Ah, you said before that you didn’t like my build either. That one’s a bit tricky. Can’t exactly change that, can I?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Tell me what to do. What do I have to change so I don’t make you uncomfortable?”
“What the…”
Had he even heard what Banteon had said? The turbulence that had shaken Delroz’s eyes until now was gone—his gaze was steady and unwavering.
Even after Banteon had bluntly said it wasn’t just a matter of taste, that everything about Delroz didn’t sit right with him, Delroz still showed no intention of backing down.
“I guess turning away after being rejected is what you nobles call ‘manners,’ right? Sorry, but I’m not giving up that easily. I wasn’t raised with all your fancy etiquette, after all.”
Delroz lifted his head, and a dangerous gleam flickered in his eyes.
“I’m a little too desperate to just walk away after hearing ‘no.’”
The raw confession was so direct it made Banteon’s face heat up. He hadn’t expected Delroz to give up easily, but the stark honesty still caught him off guard, leaving his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
He’d had countless confessions before. Too many to count. People declaring they liked him had become so routine they hardly registered anymore. Subtle advances happened so often they blended into the background.
But never before had anyone spoken so plainly. Delroz’s words stripped away all pride, yet his eyes held not a hint of shame—they were steady, firm.
“I’m going to try everything I can from now on.”
Delroz hadn’t liked Banteon from the beginning. So when had things gone wrong? Was it when they learned each other’s situations? Delroz had been the first to suggest parting ways once he found the Guide who had saved him.
Banteon moistened his parched lips. It didn’t matter what Delroz felt. The answer had already been decided long ago.
“Delroz. You’re the one who drew the line from the start—told me not to get any ideas. Treated me like some bothersome burden. And now you want to look good in front of me?”
“Yeah.”
The confident answer made Banteon scoff.
Thinking back on it, even if Delroz hadn’t said all that degrading crap, Banteon still wouldn’t have accepted him. From the start, the fact that he was a commoner-born Esper had already rubbed him the wrong way.
But it was Delroz’s attitude that had built the wall between them even higher. When he wasn’t interested, he’d freely twisted Banteon’s words and actions. And now, suddenly wanting to get closer—it just sounded selfish.
“Sure, people’s feelings can change. But why should I have to go along with that whim?”
“Back then…”
“Back then, you didn’t know, but after a little guiding you think I’m worth keeping around? I suddenly seem important now?”
Delroz’s hand clenched tightly. Banteon saw it but didn’t stop.
Espers were all the same. When guiding went on for too long, they always ended up wanting to claim the Guide for themselves. Even if the person wasn’t their type, they’d try to control them anyway. The Espers who had approached Banteon just because of Esrante’s glow were no different.
Delroz was the same. Saying he wanted to “look good” was just a pretty excuse—Banteon knew what it really meant.
“You don’t need to try so hard. I’ll guide you if it becomes necessary, so stop wasting your time. If you go out of control, it’ll be just as much of a headache for me.”
As everyone could see, Banteon had a lot in this kingdom—status, power, benefits—and he wasn’t going to let things get messy. Delroz knew that too. He’d seen the privileges Banteon received firsthand, countless times.
“You ended up stuck in isolation for a while after sneaking into my room and lashing out, but that won’t happen again. So don’t worry. This was the answer you came for anyway, wasn’t it?”
“…That’s not what this is.”
His gaze drifted elsewhere. Even if he denied it, for an Esper, nothing mattered more than guiding. All the Espers who chased after Banteon wanted the same thing…
Ah.
A memory of their last encounter flashed through his mind. There was another reason, wasn’t there?
“You don’t seem to mind touching men anymore. Want to test that out or something?”
It wasn’t uncommon for attraction born from guiding to turn into sexual interest. After being guided by a male Guide for so long, maybe he’d started getting curious. But Banteon had no intention of entertaining that kind of base curiosity.
“You’d have no shortage of volunteers for that. Why not try someone else? I’ll pass. You’re a mess.”
His skin still throbbed where Delroz had bitten him, like it hadn’t fully healed.
Delroz’s silent gaze didn’t budge. It burned into Banteon, making the back of his neck itch. Then a soft sigh escaped Delroz’s lips. The faint tap-tap of his shoe against the floor betrayed his growing restlessness.
