“You’re holding something dangerous.”
The man who clicked his tongue took the blade from Alex’s hand. Alex was dumbfounded, having lost the knife in the blink of an eye.
The man removed his right glove and held it together with the knife in his other hand. He smiled while meeting Alex’s eyes. Then, Alex was struck on the cheek by the man’s bare hand. This too happened in the blink of an eye.
Only after feeling the stinging pain did Alex fully realize he had been hit by that man. Alex’s body staggered. If the man hadn’t blocked his falling body, he would certainly have rolled on the ground.
It was brute force. The alcohol that had risen to the top of his head instantly disappeared.
“What is this…”
Alex couldn’t continue speaking. He received another blow. It hurt so much he couldn’t even scream.
A bursting sound followed.
It didn’t feel real at all. He had the illusion of being an actor who had stepped onto a dark stage to perform a strange two-person play.
He needed to escape. Holding his shaking head, Alex thought this.
But when the blade touched his neck, his body froze again. Even healing magic couldn’t completely erase knife wounds. He couldn’t allow his precious body to be scarred. Alex rolled his eyes nervously.
“Shh.”
“…”
“I dislike talkative people. I dislike talkative trash even more.”
The man who looked exactly like him whispered. He merely smiled with his eyes narrowed gently. Yet, Alex felt as if he was facing a greater fear than ever before.
Alex was grabbed by the collar. In the seemingly indifferent eyes of the man, there was a cold anger. It was an anger Alex would never understand in his lifetime.
This was bad.
Alex felt an instinctive threat. He wanted to curse. He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs. Alex tried to open his throat and scream. But he couldn’t. The only thing permitted to Alex, whose throat was being choked by powerful force, was a silent scream.
Holding the mirror-like man in his eyes, Alex lost consciousness. It was in the early hours past midnight.
* * *
Assad pulled out a sheet of paper from the newspaper that the lodging manager had brought. It was a special bulletin printed on a small piece of paper. It seemed they had bought and inserted even the extras that small children were selling, crying out with bags full of them.
Assad changed his posture to stand askew. His eyes, reading the article imprinted on the paper, were just as sharp as his posture.
“A man whose ten fingers were each cut off at a joint.”
The strange incident that occurred past midnight scattered into the air through Assad’s voice.
The reporter wrote about an unfortunate man who lost his fingers to an unknown assailant, in a somewhat passionate tone. An emotion that could have been either excitement or concern was glimpsed.
…Though the victim’s life is not in danger, he shows symptoms of mental confusion, ranting about the delusion of being attacked by a man who looks exactly like himself…
Oh my. Assad, crumpling the paper he was holding and throwing it onto the newspaper, clicked his tongue.
Turning around, Assad headed towards the stairs leading to the second floor. He was going to see his bride who was lying ill without having had a proper meal.
Every time he stepped on the wooden stairs, which were probably as old as this antique mansion, there was a creaking sound of wood crying.
Assad listened to that heavy yet eerie noise. He was distracting himself because he didn’t want to recall the wretched incident that happened yesterday. Just briefly recalling it… made him want to tear Alex Cooper into pieces and kill him.
At least now, he shouldn’t harbor such feelings. He needed to calm his mind.
He didn’t want to reveal his anger to Cayden, whom he would soon face. Since Cayden was seemingly perceptive yet actually terribly unaware, he might misunderstand and think Assad was angry at him.
‘I can’t even kill him now.’
Assad sighed inwardly.
In the dark night, Assad had followed that trash, Alex Cooper. With a face identical to his, he had grabbed that man’s hand.
The pain Alex would have felt in the early morning was nothing. It was merely a one-time punishment. It was nothing more than a penalty for intimidating and forcefully grabbing Cayden, for daring to strike his cheek. That poorly raised young master had far too many sins left to settle.
He hadn’t expected to encounter Alex in this distant northern land. Of course, he had predicted that the trash who heard about Emma’s wedding would have spread people throughout the capital area. He became certain of it when seeing the bugs circling around Cayden.
He also knew that a report would immediately reach that bastard. After all, he had disposed of all the bugs, leaving just one to report to the trash.
But he thought that the man who should be in the count’s territory wouldn’t be able to come to the capital immediately. He had thought he would appear only after he and Cayden had left the North, feeling only impatience… But his prediction had gone awry.
The House of Servman was collapsing. Their businesses, as well as the farms they owned, were in a mess. Yet, with eyes reddened by greed, he had rushed to the capital breathlessly. It was utterly disgusting.
“…”
Assad stopped in front of the bedroom where Cayden was staying. He would still be sleeping. He had no intention of loudly knocking on the door.
But he couldn’t open the door right away either. Standing quietly in front of the door, Assad remained silent. It was hesitation.
Assad felt apologetic towards Cayden.
The reason he had silently watched the trash and Cayden conversing was because Cayden seemed to want to draw the line with Alex Cooper himself. He wished for Cayden to achieve what he wanted. He hoped he could do whatever he wanted. So he didn’t intervene.
But at the same time, perhaps he had wanted to peek into the time entangled between his bride and the crazed man.
Perhaps he couldn’t fully step into the alley because he wanted to know the story that was completely elusive. Perhaps he had stubbornly stood his ground while forcibly swallowing his rising anger. Perhaps he had watched them like a rat, hiding his presence.
All night long, Assad had doubted himself. And that doubt continued to transform into apology towards Cayden. Yet, in the end, he didn’t regret it.
Assad came to know Cayden’s wounds, how badly they had festered. Assad, who finally learned the details of the story he had been curious about, felt a strange pain as if his heart was being pulled out alive.
“Cayden. I will protect you. No one, absolutely no one, will dare to treat you carelessly.”
And Assad told Cayden. He conveyed his sincere feelings, without a single trace of falsehood, to the man with the pale face. He made a vow that not even a god could cut.
He wanted to protect Cayden from all sorts of filth raging in the world. He wanted to make his bride smile under the bright sunlight, not in a dark alley. It was okay even if it was that awkward and irritating smile that occasionally came his way.
‘I can’t let him experience something like yesterday again.’
Exhaling a breath that could have been either a sigh or a lamentation, Assad grabbed the doorknob. But he couldn’t bring himself to turn it.
‘Is it right to have such feelings… for someone I’ll have to let go of someday?’
Holding the golden doorknob, Assad pondered his contradiction. It was a contradiction that had reached a point where he couldn’t even feel its absurdity anymore.
It wasn’t like him to look back when an easy path lay ahead. Yet he kept looking back. He wanted to walk, no, run to the man walking alone in the distance and grab his hand. Such a strange longing arose.
“…”
Click. The doorknob turned, tearing through Assad’s confused anguish. It wasn’t Assad’s hand that turned the doorknob. The surprised Assad stepped back half a step from the door.
The one who peeked his face through the opening door was, naturally, Cayden.
“Since you weren’t coming in…”
“…”
“I wondered if something had happened.”
Cayden, who quickly closed his mouth, smiled awkwardly.
Cayden was already awake. Facing such a Cayden, Assad felt a strange feeling. It reminded him of the time when he first visited Cayden’s bedroom in the guise of Amun.
Back then, Cayden had been tucked away in a corner of the balcony. Unaware that an intruder had entered his bedroom. He was crouching somewhere, dazed, blankly looking up at the sky. When he saw me as Amun, he was startled and hurriedly rolled his eyes. With a face that clearly thought, ‘I didn’t hear any sound. What is this?’
And that man… had become familiar enough with me, his spouse, to notice me lingering in front of the bedroom and open the door first. He had become that accustomed to me.
A needless smile emerged. It was a big smile, hard to suppress and pretend not to notice.
Assad hurriedly entered the bedroom. He watched Cayden covering his mouth with his hand, pretending to rub his cheek, and closing the door.
Yesterday, upon returning to the lodging, Cayden immediately received treatment. The scab on his burst lip and the thin, long wounds left by Alex’s fingertips on his skin had completely disappeared.
However, the bruise on his face hadn’t fully faded yet. It was inevitable since they had to rely on the magic of an ordinary healing magician, not one affiliated with the imperial or royal palace. Despite knowing this, seeing the faintly remaining bruise marks made him increasingly anxious.
Cayden had awkwardly smiled, saying it would disappear completely in two days. But Assad didn’t believe those words. Cayden was excessively generous about his own wounds and pain.
He planned to summon healing magicians first when they arrived in Helio. And add a doctor to be at Cayden’s disposal. Assad thought in his impatience.
“Why are you up?”
“…I couldn’t sleep.”
“You should still lie down. You’re a patient. Don’t say things like, ‘It’s just a slight injury to my face, I’m not a patient.'”
Assad said, holding Cayden’s hand. It was frustrating to see Cayden awkwardly closing his mouth with an expression of being hit right on point.
Assad guided Cayden to the empty bed. He sat him on the edge of the soft bed, while he sat on the floor, looking up at Cayden.
But their eye levels matched soon. This was because the startled Cayden slid down from the bed and crouched right in front of Assad.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
