Thick auburn hair like Tearot’s, a burly physique, and even that greasy way of greeting people—nothing had changed. The shamelessness of complimenting a male nephew by calling him beautiful was exactly like his son Tearot. Then again, who else would the son take after?
Normally, Pellato Radern was someone to be relied upon. But because of the awkward incident involving Tearot in the past, he was the one person Banteon most wanted to avoid. As soon as Banteon sat down, Pellato, as if waiting for that very moment, took the seat across from him and smiled brightly.
“You’re looking more and more like your late mother.”
“Only you say that, Uncle. Everyone else says I take after my father.”
“Well, your build and temperament are certainly just like my brother’s. But your aura—your presence—is the spitting image of your mother. How’s your health? If anything feels off, you must tell me immediately.”
“Thanks to your constant concern, I’m doing just fine.”
The public, unaware of the truth, often speculated that Pellato was eyeing Esrante’s power and thus was antagonistic toward Banteon. But Banteon, who knew the full story, found such talk utterly absurd.
Pellato Radern was also an A-rank Esper like his son. From the moment his abilities awakened, he had become a drifter, leaving home and wandering the entire kingdom. He shirked Center missions, lived off the support funds, and never once settled on an official Guide. But there was one person he had fallen for—hopelessly, at that.
It was Banteon’s mother, already his brother’s bonded Guide and the Lady of Esrante. Pellato had fallen for her at first sight.
At that time, Banteon’s parents were already married and had even given birth to him. Banteon’s earliest memory of Pellato was of a crazy Esper who introduced himself as “uncle,” then asked Banteon to tell him what his mother liked so he could woo her. And Pellato had already been a married man himself, having entered into a political union and fathered Tearot. Even as a child, Banteon had wondered if this man was seriously okay in the head.
Both of Banteon’s parents passed away early. His mother, a Guide, died after a long illness. Pellato, who mourned their deaths even more deeply than Banteon himself, completely turned his life around that day. He gave up his debauchery and stood firm as an unshakable pillar of Esrante, serving as acting head for many years.
His wish had never changed—to see Banteon, who resembled his mother, become a great head of the Esrante household and live a long, healthy life. Until that day came, Pellato’s role was to remain as acting head and step down the moment Banteon returned. Then, he’d reclaim his freedom.
“Is Tearot not joining us during your leave? That rascal wouldn’t just stay at the Center while you’re gone.”
Banteon paused mid-bite of a cookie. This was exactly why he wanted to avoid Pellato. Whenever they met, the conversation inevitably turned to Tearot. How could he bare his son’s shameful behavior to his father—especially when the reason wasn’t even fit to be spoken aloud?
“He’s had a lot of missions lately, so he’s resting alone.”
“That boy’s only asset is his stamina. What’s he going to accomplish by resting alone? I left him at the Center to guard you, and he’s probably off fooling around. I ought to summon him back immediately.”
Sensing Pellato’s determination to contact Tearot at once and bring him home, Banteon raised a hand to stop him.
“Let him be. Tearot’s grown now. He needs his own space too.”
“Grown? Hardly. His brain still works like a child’s…”
Pellato, who had been grumbling with irritation, suddenly stopped mid-sentence as if his tongue had turned to stone. Frowning and glancing around nervously, he awkwardly stroked his chin. Then, in a voice barely louder than a whisper, he murmured:
“No way Tearot stayed at the Center just because you told him to. That boy wouldn’t separate from you of his own accord. No, that doesn’t add up…”
After staring at the floor in deep contemplation for a long moment, Pellato finally lifted his head. His gaze brimming with determination made Banteon flinch slightly just as he opened his mouth again, resolute.
“Don’t tell me that brat Tearot confessed to you?”
“What?”
“That’s the only explanation for him backing off. That fool finally did it, didn’t he?”
“……”
Sweat beaded on Banteon’s forehead at Pellato’s words, spoken with such certainty. He was so stunned by the confidence in Pellato’s voice that he froze. Taking Banteon’s silence as confirmation, Pellato slapped his hand down and let out a heavy sigh.
“Even in something like this, he takes after his old man. What is he thinking? I really thought he’d grow up and gain some sense with age… but no, not even a bit.”
“You knew?”
“Did he act inappropriately? Did he threaten you or beg?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Well, at least he’s a little more human now.”
The conversation was veering wildly, making it hard to keep up. It wasn’t until Banteon reassured him that Pellato finally relaxed his tense shoulders. If he’d found out Tearot had tried to forcibly guide Banteon, he’d probably rush out to wring his son’s neck on the spot. Banteon hadn’t told him that much. Or more accurately, he missed the chance because he was too shocked to realize Pellato already knew.
“How long have you known?”
“That question is flawed from the start. He’s liked you from the moment he first met you. Even before he knew the Royal Law Code, he was already hopelessly smitten. So it’s not that I found out at some point—it’s just that I never managed to fix him.”
“I… had no idea.”
“Not surprising. He was so lovestruck from the beginning, constantly clinging to you. From your perspective, he probably just always seemed that way from the start.”
Pellato frowned, his expression pained, then sighed even more deeply. He stared at the floor again, unable to lift his head. It was the first time Banteon had ever seen the usually slick Pellato look like this.
“I failed to pay attention. If I’d realized earlier…”
But what would he have done if he’d known earlier? In truth, it wasn’t as if Banteon had been completely oblivious. He just hadn’t realized the depth of Tearot’s feelings. He’d known that Tearot acted with him in mind—but he’d thought it was just a passing whim. Something that would eventually fade away, like a gust of wind brushing past his shoulder.
Even if Banteon had known the depth of Tearot’s feelings beforehand, there wasn’t much he could’ve done. Trying to awkwardly keep a distance may have only hastened this outcome. Knowing that reality well, Pellato shook his head.
“No. That boy Tearot… he’s a dark one inside. He acts affectionate around you, but I know all too well how cold he can really be. He deliberately kept it hidden, so of course you wouldn’t have known. So don’t blame yourself. It’s his fault for not keeping himself in check.”
Pellato rose from his seat. Stepping away from the chair, he took a single step back, then slowly bent his body. As he lowered himself to the ground, one knee on the floor, Banteon, startled, stood up in shock.
“What are you doing?”
“I failed to discipline my son. I offer my apology on his behalf.”
“Please don’t. Stand up. There’s no reason for you to apologize, Uncle.”
“This isn’t something trivial.”
When Banteon tried to stop him, Pellato bowed even lower. It left him speechless. Even if Banteon was to become head of the household, Pellato was still his elder. Watching him kneel and lower his body to the ground was deeply unsettling. Banteon reached out, grasping his shoulder and arm in an attempt to pull him up, but Pellato didn’t budge.
“Please rise. I’m not planning to pursue any punishment.”
“No. You must. This has to be dealt with, and clearly.”
His slightly raised face was clouded in dark worry. If Tearot’s feelings ever spilled out into the open, it wouldn’t just end in disgrace. Even among nobles, romantic involvement between close blood relatives was punished severely.
“I plan to send Tearot away from the capital soon. I’ll make sure he doesn’t return until his feelings have changed.”
“Is that really necessary? I won’t say a word of this to anyone. If you cover it properly, it’ll stay buried.”
“No. I know my son. Or rather, I should say—I know myself.”
Pellato spoke with conviction.
“That boy shares my blood. He won’t give up so easily.”
“That’s…”
These were the words of a man who had spent his entire life bound to the Guide he loved, even though he could never have her. He staked his remaining years on a love where he hadn’t even held her hand once. Knowing his nature, Banteon couldn’t bring himself to offer easy reassurance.
Tearot had never once bonded with a proper Guide. He had kept his eyes on Banteon the entire time. That comment Tearot made about waiting for Banteon to meet a proper Esper—Banteon shouldn’t have believed it. He should have rejected him firmly and kept his distance from the start.
“If that’s what will give you peace of mind… then it can’t be helped.”
“Thank you. Banteon… I know I have no right to ask, but if you could grant just one request for the sake of all I’ve done until now…”
Moved by the sincere plea, Banteon gave a small nod.
“Before Tearot leaves the capital… if he says he wants to see you one last time—please, just once, grant him that.”
Wouldn’t that just make the farewell harder if Tearot was trying to move on? As Banteon hesitated briefly, Pellato shook his head weakly.
“Think of it as the last remnants of denial. I know it’s not the right decision, but for a son about to go on a long journey… I want to give him at least that much.”
“He’ll get over it soon enough and come back. Tearot isn’t that foolish.”
Even with Banteon’s words, laced with comfort, Pellato only gave a bitter smile. His posture and expression clearly conveyed he didn’t agree. Banteon sighed.
Seeing someone you’ve known for years one more time—it wasn’t such a difficult thing. He had already told Tearot he could come find him once he had sorted out his feelings. So maybe this distance wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
