Adrian hurried off to find Kyle D’Baicia, the head of the club. Contrary to his expectations, Kyle readily agreed to fill in for him during his absence. He even let out a hearty laugh, saying that the Ordinas greenhouse was designed to replicate natural conditions so well that it barely required human maintenance. As he said this, Kyle’s eyes sparkled while gazing at the Kevish saplings that had already taken root. He was clearly sensing the lucrative profits Adrian would soon bring in from Ordinas.
And so, Adrian—with a sulky expression—found himself boarding the carriage alongside the prince. The two rode the same white carriage they had used for their last weekend outing, heading once again toward the capital of the kingdom. The same coachman as before was at the reins.
Stealing a glance, Adrian checked on the prince seated across from him. For some reason, Mikhail looked to be in a good mood. It was probably because he felt freer and more at ease being able to act however he pleased once they reached the royal palace.
Basamiel Academy was located in a city slightly removed from the capital, but it only took a few hours to get there by carriage. Most likely, that was because the majority of students resided in the capital.
The rhythmic clopping of hooves and the sound of carriage wheels rolling over cobblestone filled the air. Adrian, gazing out the window, finally opened his mouth.
“…Why would Her Majesty invite me?”
“There’s nothing to worry about. She just enjoys inviting acquaintances to the palace—it’s a hobby of hers, not some scheme.”
Is that so? Adrian gave a slow nod at Mikhail’s confident answer. Well, with the greenhouse taken care of, spending some time comfortably at the palace didn’t sound like a bad idea. Plus, he wouldn’t have to pay for Tilon at the academy cafeteria anymore.
As they exited the vast forest, the carriage picked up speed on the smooth road leading to the capital of Rustavaran. The vibrant bustle of life filtered in from beyond the carriage window.
“When are we arriving at the palace?”
He was fairly certain they’d already reached the capital of Rustavaran… but when the seemingly endless forest path appeared once more, Adrian turned to Mikhail, who was sitting across from him reading a book, and asked. Hm? Mikhail lifted his head at the question, glanced out the window once, and let out a soft, amused snort as he curved his lips upward. It was a cute question.
“We’re already inside the palace grounds.”
“…What?”
This forest was part of the palace?
Adrian turned back to the window with a skeptical look, as if questioning whether Mikhail was serious. And sure enough, street lamps bearing the Rustavaran national flag came into view along the road. What he had thought was just a dense forest turned out to be the approach to the palace.
After winding through the forest for a while, the carriage glided to a halt before the grand front gate of the palace.
Clunk. The coachman walked over slowly and opened the door. Adrian, who had been growing restless from sitting too long, was just about to rise and step out.
“I’m sorry, but it’s customary for the prince to alight first.”
What might have been acceptable at Basamiel was not something the royal palace could allow.
The coachman politely pressed a palm down on Adrian’s shoulder. Adrian glanced at him, then, wearing a sulky expression, sank back into the carriage’s plush seat. “Your Highness. If you would, please disembark,” the coachman repeated to Mikhail.
Mikhail leapt down from the tall carriage in one fluid motion. At that moment, the attendants stationed at the palace gate to welcome the prince bowed their heads.
“Greetings, Your Highness.”
“Mm.” Mikhail gave them a cursory nod, then turned his gaze toward Adrian, who still sat sulking inside the carriage.
“What are you doing? Hurry up and get down.”
Mikhail waited for Adrian to disembark before gesturing lightly toward the palace gates.
Why is he so excited? Adrian trailed behind him, still wearing a sullen look. He ascended the palace’s stately steps slowly, not sparing even a glance at the long line of royal portraits hanging in the hallway. A few palace staff followed quietly behind them with soft footsteps.
“Here’s your room.”
The sparkle in Mikhail’s eyes, as if to say Well?, was almost oppressive. Adrian turned his gaze slightly away and checked out the room. The decor was more luxurious than that of any royal audience chamber, as if to flaunt the power of the Rustavaran Kingdom to its guests. But to the wealthiest being on the continent—a dragon—asking his opinion on such a lavish room…
It left little impression.
“I see…”
“The room directly across from mine is usually reserved for very special guests.”
“Oh? I’m honored.”
Adrian’s indifferent reply made Mikhail’s eyes narrow. That wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. Back during that shoddy party at the academy, Adrian had looked completely overwhelmed, acting like it was his first time seeing such a place—so what was this reaction now?
Grinding his teeth inwardly, Mikhail began racking his brain for something inside the palace that might actually impress Adrian. He suddenly had a burning desire to see the face of a commoner from a merchant family lit up in awe.
***
“Adrian.”
At the sound of Mikhail’s voice, Adrian opened his eyes. Morning already? He furrowed his brow as he sat up, instinctively reaching out to the nightstand beside him—only to find nothing there. Huh?
Adrian blinked, shaking off the lingering daze of sleep as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. His eyes soon took in the luxurious furnishings of the palace guestroom.
Ah, right. This wasn’t the dorm—it was the royal palace.
“…Mikhail? What is it?”
Mikhail stood before him, dressed in comfortable but unmistakably expensive clothing.
“Since you’re awake, get ready and come out.”
He said this as he checked the clock on the wall in response to Adrian’s groggy question.
“Ten minutes should be enough, right? I should have tea prepared in the drawing room.”
“Wait—hold on.”
Adrian ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, trying to make sense of the situation as he blocked Mikhail’s exit. This was the palace, and this was a guestroom, but… why the hell was Mikhail right next to his bed? Wasn’t his room supposed to be across the hall?
“…Did I not hear you knock? I didn’t hear anything.”
“…”
Of course, Mikhail hadn’t knocked. But unwilling to outright lie, he simply stayed silent.
Adrian stared at him for a moment, then reached for a glass of water. On the nightstand sat a clear water pitcher, a cup, and a few fresh-cut flowers from the palace garden arranged in a vase.
Rustle. The soft sound of his luxurious palace-issued pajamas brushing against the sheets filled the quiet room.
Mikhail glanced down at Adrian in those refined pajamas. The smooth fabric, the faint glimpse of his slender nape—only now did it fully sink in that Adrian was actually staying here, as a guest of the palace.
“Anyway, come to the drawing room in ten minutes.”
Mikhail suddenly turned on his heel and strode out.
What’s this about? Adrian sat blankly on the enormous, extravagant bed, nodding absentmindedly. Mikhail had already left the room before he even got a reply. Even in the palace, where he’d come for rest, Adrian was being dragged out of bed. With a resigned sigh, he got dressed half-heartedly and trudged off toward the drawing room.
***
As soon as Adrian entered the drawing room, Mikhail pulled him along to somewhere else.
They arrived at a forest clearing a little removed from the main palace grounds. At its center stood an enormous glass dome.
“Much better than Basamiel’s greenhouse, isn’t it?”
Mikhail’s voice carried a faint air of pride. He looked up expectantly, hoping for a word of awe or admiration from Adrian.
But Adrian just looked unimpressed.
“Well…”
It was vast—large enough to fit a whole mansion and its surrounding garden inside. Urged on by Mikhail, Adrian gave the interior a quick once-over.
“It’s… spacious.”
That’s it?
Mikhail’s face visibly soured at Adrian’s curt response.
“And?”
“You’ve collected a much wider variety of species.”
“……”
Mikhail glared at him for a moment, then gave up on expecting a bigger reaction.
That was when it happened.
Adrian, who’d been standing stiffly in the center of the massive greenhouse, suddenly began walking toward a corner.
“Why?” Mikhail asked, watching him go.
But Adrian said nothing, instead focusing intently on the weeds in one corner of the space.
“Oh? I didn’t expect they preserved this too.”
Adrian knelt, resting one knee against the soil as he studied the plants below. He gently brushed them with his fingers, his attention laser-focused.
Mikhail, standing nearby, gazed down at him. He didn’t know what exactly Adrian had found, but if he was looking at it that intently… he must like it.
“Take your time. I’m off to morning training.”
With a satisfied smile, Mikhail left Adrian to his inspection.
***
Is it that late already?
Adrian had lost track of time examining the medicinal herbs he’d found in the greenhouse—plants he hadn’t expected to see here.
When he finally stepped out of the dome, the sun was already high, the heat of midday beating down on him.
He hastily made his way through the forest toward the main palace entrance.
It was the moment he crossed the threshold into the palace grounds.
A sharp sound split the air, and he felt something whizz past his neck. Adrian froze rather than try to catch it, instinctively stiffening.
A man’s voice spoke from behind him.
“What do we have here?”
Adrian started to turn his head to identify the person holding a blade to his neck.
But with a low “Hmm?” the man pressed the edge in even closer.
A thin line of red trickled down.
Adrian dropped his gaze to the stream of blood trailing down from his neck.
…If someone was this brazen inside the palace walls, there was only one person it could be.
