Chaika’s bowed face was, as expected, soaked with tears and filled with guilt.
“I don’t deserve it, Lord Mihail.”
Chaika quietly repeated what he had said earlier. His voice was weary and broken.
Mihail couldn’t understand what kind of qualification one needed to receive someone’s care and affection in the first place. He couldn’t comprehend it at all. He wondered why Chaika thought that way. And he wanted to say that such qualifications didn’t exist. But there was something more important than that. Something he absolutely needed to know.
“Chaika.”
When Mihail called him softly, Chaika lifted his head and met his gaze before answering, “Yes.” Even that single, short reply made Mihail’s chest feel unbearably full. He wanted to crush him in his arms out of sheer affection.
“If you answer just one thing, I’ll leave for today.”
Chaika hesitated, then nodded.
Mihail reached out and gently stroked Chaika’s cheek. As if he were touching fragile glass that might shatter at the slightest mistake, he was careful and soft. Chaika lowered his eyes slightly and leaned his face into Mihail’s hand. He was lovely.
“Just tell me this. Whether you like me or not.”
Mihail spoke while looking straight into Chaika’s eyes. Chaika’s pupils shook violently, like a ship caught in a storm, and his golden eyelashes fluttered in spasms. His small, reddish lips twitched helplessly. Mihail obsessively observed every tiny change—his gaze, his movements, his trembling. He wanted to know the truth. He had to know.
“…I….”
Chaika’s lips parted and pressed together again countless times. A faint sound of breath escaped, then stopped; another syllable almost came out, then died away. Mihail waited patiently.
“…I….”
At last, a single word emerged from Chaika’s mouth. After finally forcing out that one word, Chaika placed his hand over the back of Mihail’s hand that was stroking his cheek and continued.
“I like you, Lord Mihail. I like you, Your Grace. I really, really, really, really like you. I like you so much.”
His voice was so soft it was almost a whisper by Mihail’s ear, but every single word drenched Mihail’s entire body. A shudder that began at the tips of his limbs climbed up through his arms and legs, spread to his torso, his heart, and finally his head.
Chaika gently removed Mihail’s hand from his cheek and pressed his lips to the back of it as if it were something precious. Then he let go and stepped back.
“But I don’t deserve to like you, Lord Mihail. I… I can’t. I’m sorry. Please, just go.”
After saying he liked him, his final words were a plea for Mihail to leave. Mihail felt like he was being flung up to heaven only to be smashed into hell, then hurled back up again and dropped into the deepest pit. Chaika’s every reaction, every word, did that to him.
“If you truly care about my younger brother, please allow this child to remain here, Your Grace.”
Nile once again pulled Chaika behind him, hiding him with his body.
Mihail couldn’t understand Chaika. Truthfully, given Mihail’s nature, he didn’t need to understand others. He could simply do as he pleased. But this time was different.
“I’ll come by every day. That much should be fine.”
Nile hesitated briefly at Mihail’s words, then nodded.
Mihail left Nile’s residence just like that. He hadn’t given up. He simply didn’t want to act violently toward the creature. And he didn’t want to show him such a side of himself. And then—
“Summon the herbalist. Immediately.”
Mihail barked the order at the butler beside him, almost chewing the words, as he strode violently down the corridor.
There had to be some other reason Chaika was reacting in such an incomprehensible way. Nile didn’t seem like he’d talk even if pressed, and Mihail couldn’t very well resort to torture to pry it out of him. There was no reason to give Chaika—who trusted his older brother so deeply—a reason to distrust Mihail. Chaika himself showed no intention of speaking either, so Mihail would have to uncover the truth on his own.
***
There was still no progress in identifying the plant Chaika was secretly cultivating. Mihail summoned the herbalist and intimidated him, then assigned several people to assist. Instinctively, Mihail knew that the strange herb was connected to Chaika’s odd behavior. If he learned what it was, he would understand why Chaika was rejecting him—or at least be able to guess.
He had no intention of letting Chaika go. He had no intention of respecting the creature’s wishes. He had merely taken one step back to achieve his goal. In the end, the creature would end up in Mihail’s hands.
With the creature no longer constantly at his side, the days felt unbearably long and empty. Mihail couldn’t even remember what he used to do to pass those endless days before Chaika appeared. He was seized by an overwhelming urge to rush over, scoop Chaika up, and bring him back immediately.
The coarse texture of his hair, his slender waist, his thin ankles and wrists that fit easily in one hand, his delicate neck and shoulders, the slightly protruding bone visible whenever he bowed his head, his skin so pale it was almost bloodless, the way his lips parted slightly when he concentrated as he breathed out faint, colored breaths, the uniquely bitter scent of medicinal herbs mixed with something else—something distinctive….
The strange little sounds he made—hik, ngh, ah—when lifted, held, or startled, the way his body flinched no matter where he was poked, the golden eyelashes that trembled every time he brushed back his hair as if he could never get used to it, the jewel-like violet eyes hidden beneath them, and—
“…Lord Mihail….”
That small call of his name, tinged with hesitation and shyness, as if he never grew accustomed to saying it no matter how many times he did.
Mihail wanted to snatch the creature up and hold him tight, to breathe in his scent deeply. He wanted to suck and lick every part of his body, to bite down hard. To clamp his teeth around that pale, slender nape—if he put just a little more strength into his jaw, that fragile skin and muscle would tear away with ease.
Mihail clenched his itching teeth tightly. Things had gone so far that he even felt the urge to tear the creature apart and devour him. Never in his life had he needed such an enormous amount of patience as he did now.
It was fortunate, in many ways, that Mihail had reached an age where he had properly learned what patience was. For Mihail, and for Chaika as well. If his patience were any shallower than it was now, he would have committed every act long ago.
Instead of storming into Nile’s residence and snatching the creature away according to his instincts, Mihail exercised the utmost patience and approached cautiously. Just like when he had first tracked the creature down, he decided to close the distance little by little. If the first time had been a pursuit for the sake of hunting, this time was baiting and trapping for capture.
Starting the day after Chaika fled to Nile’s side, Mihail shared three meals a day with Nile and Chaika. Though Chaika was the one invited, he refused to step even a foot outside the residence unless Nile accompanied him, which resulted in Nile joining the meals as well.
The three of them dined in the grand dining hall, a place rarely used. The grand dining hall of the Castiya inner castle manor was enormous, and the table itself was so long and massive that dozens of people could sit at it at once. Mihail sat in the central seat of the master, receiving Nile and Chaika. The servants, already instructed beforehand, guided the two to their seats. Nile was led to the seat directly opposite Mihail—on the far side of the long table that could easily accommodate dozens—while Chaika was seated immediately to Mihail’s right.
Mihail and Chaika sat close together, while Nile was left sitting far away by himself, but Nile merely stiffened his expression and voiced no protest. After all, at such a table, the seat opposite the master was meant for the lady of the house. Though there was no official marriage and no relationship as yet, Nile had come to bear an heir. Guiding him to the lady’s seat was, at least outwardly, an exceptionally generous treatment.
It was just a meal, anyway.
Thinking that, Nile endured the uncomfortable dining arrangement. After getting through three meals a day without incident, Nile’s wariness eased ever so slightly. Chaika’s guardedness did as well.
“Starting today, we’ve added some meat you can chew to your soup. We simmered quail thoroughly and shredded it finely, so please make sure to chew well.”
The physician responsible for Chaika’s overall care pointed to the soup set on the table as he spoke. Just as he said, small chunks that could at least be called meat floated in the soup, which until now had been thin and devoid of anything to chew.
“Yes.”
Chaika answered obediently and picked up his spoon. Mihail, seated right beside him, watched Chaika as if licking him with his eyes. Chaika had a habit of slightly drawing out the ends of his words. To a careless listener, it sounded like a simple “Yes,” but if you listened closely, it was more like “Yees—.”
Watching him answer with that tiny mouth was unbearably cute. Mihail wanted to immediately grab the wrist holding the spoon and pull him close—or better yet, snatch him up by the waist, sit him on his lap, and gnaw on the back of his neck. As if anticipating that sensation, his hands and fingers, his teeth and the back of his neck all itched.
But instead of acting on impulse, Mihail began his meal with composed dignity. When Mihail started eating, Chaika—who had been subtly watching his reaction—let out a faint sigh of relief and began scooping up his soup.
“Chew thoroughly.”
“Yes.”
At Mihail’s single remark, Chaika answered immediately. In truth, even without being told, Chaika chewed his food very carefully. Even a single bite of biscuit would be chewed dozens of times, so Mihail knew he would eat properly regardless. He knew that—but he just wanted to talk to him. If possible, he even wanted to chew tough meat himself and feed it to Chaika mouth-to-mouth.
