“I… I have no excuse.”
An elderly retainer bowed his head, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.
The others were no different. Some of them had even been brazen enough to hold their heads high until just yesterday, but that arrogance had crumbled overnight.
They were gathered here to expose the full extent of Count Averitt’s crimes and decide his punishment.
At least, that was the official reason. None of the retainers summoned to this council were foolish enough to take it at face value.
The Duke must be checking to see if anyone else was in on it.
Word had already spread among them: several men who had been lining their pockets by helping Count Averitt had been dragged off in chains.
Idiots. To get caught stealing from the household coffers of all things. I can’t tell if they were bold or just plain stupid.
Rumor had it the sum involved was enormous. Some had suspected the Count was scheming something, but no one had imagined it would erupt into such a disaster.
And yet they had stood by and watched. Their willful blindness and arrogance had led directly to this moment.
“……”
“……”
“……”
The silence was so heavy it made their knees ache. Even worse was the Duke’s gaze. Those crimson eyes, devoid of any readable emotion, were so cold that looking into them felt like standing beneath a reaper’s raised scythe.
One wrong move and I’m finished.
Thank the gods I kept my mouth shut at the last meeting.
Damn it, why did I ever side with the Count back then…?!
Five retainers had already been taken in, but the investigation wasn’t over. Those who had been especially close to the Count were drenched in cold sweat.
It was true that they were innocent. No matter how harsh the interrogation, they wouldn’t be falsely accused of embezzling alongside him.
But the problem was the interrogation itself. If the Duke decided they needed to be questioned…?
No matter how clean a man appeared, dig deep enough and some dirt would always come loose.
Even if it wasn’t embezzlement, something else might turn up.
If that happened, they wouldn’t just lose money, time, and honor. With bad luck, even their retainer contracts could be dragged into lawsuits.
The thought was dreadful. The sound of dry throats swallowing echoed constantly through the chamber.
But while the retainers sat in fear, the one who inspired it, Justyn, was focused on something else entirely.
True to his nature, indifferent to how others felt about him, he had no intention of dragging up old grievances.
He wanted only one thing—to deal with Count Averitt quickly and return to Ries.
Since he helped me, I need to produce results worthy of it.
The memory of those clear, round eyes softened his mood despite himself. Justyn’s sharp gaze eased.
The retainers, mistaking that change for mercy, finally allowed themselves a moment of relief.
“…!”
But when Justyn suddenly rose to his feet, tension snapped taut again.
His chair crashed to the floor with a sharp bang, but no one dared to say a word. One look into those blood-red eyes, boiling with suppressed fury, stole away any will to speak.
The chance to ask him why fled with him as he strode from the chamber.
“Y-Your Grace? What’s the matter…?”
Before anyone could gather themselves, the Duke had already left.
The meeting’s host was gone, leaving the room adrift in confusion.
“Your Grace! Urgent news!”
The doors slammed open without a knock, and a knight rushed in, face white as chalk. Clearly, the report was no trivial matter.
But the one who should have heard it had already departed.
When the knight’s eyes fell on the empty seat at the head of the table, his expression darkened even further. A retainer seated nearby quickly tried to calm him.
“Ahem, His Grace was called away on urgent business. Speak—we’ll deliver the message to him when he returns.”
The tone was gentle, sparing the subordinate a rebuke for barging in unannounced. But that calm shattered at once with the knight’s next words.
“Count Averitt has escaped from the underground prison! Many of the guards and knights stationed there are gravely injured. We need to form search parties and scour the castle immediately!”
The news was far graver than anyone could have imagined.
***
Justyn strode out of the council chamber and cut swiftly through the mansion’s halls, each step firm and unhesitating.
The link’s been severed.
Not long after meeting Ries—back when Ries had nearly lost his way inside the townhouse—Justyn had taken precautions. He had woven a fragment of his carefully refined aura into the small bell dangling from Ries’s collar.
That way, no matter where Ries went, Justyn could always sense his presence, so long as he wasn’t too far away.
But just moments ago, that presence had been sliced clean through—as if cut by shears. The bell that held his aura had been utterly destroyed.
The instant he realized it, it felt like the ground collapsed beneath him. He couldn’t stay still for another second.
He had to know Ries was safe. The fact that he’d left three knights to guard him was already swept away in the storm of dread.
The link was gone, but the location was clear enough.
The study. The place Justyn had left Ries, believing it was the safest spot in the mansion.
For the first time since boyhood, Justyn sprinted hard enough to leave him breathless, dread prickling sharp against his skin with every step.
At last, he threw open the heavy doors—
And froze.
There stood Count Averitt—who should have been rotting in a dungeon cell—and beyond him, a face Justyn had seen only once yet could never forget.
Eyes bright as starlight. Hair shimmering in the shade of his most cherished color.
The sight stole his gaze for only an instant before it dropped lower—onto a pale, slender wrist, caught in Averitt’s brutal grip. At that, sparks flared in Justyn’s crimson eyes.
Before his thoughts could even catch up, his body had already moved. His sword flashed, slicing through the air without a sound.
Averitt’s hand hit the floor with a dull thud.
He escaped before his sentence was even passed. Losing a hand is punishment enough.
The rationalization came only after the act was done. And even then, it didn’t last long.
The air shifted violently. The wind’s flow seemed to reverse, drawing inward toward a single point—toward Ries.
It was the process of Edler’s soul being torn from Averitt’s body. But Justyn, unable to see spirits, could only sense the strange currents swirling around Ries.
Foreboding enough to chill him to the bone. Awe-inspiring enough to feel like drifting in a dream.
Then Averitt collapsed like a puppet with cut strings, and the strange sensations vanished without a trace. Barely ten seconds had passed since Justyn had entered the room.
He forced himself to steady his mind.
There were a thousand questions he wanted to ask—but first, he had to make sure Ries wasn’t hurt. Then, he had to apologize for letting him fall into danger.
“……!”
Yes, apologize—he had to. But the words died in his throat.
As Averitt’s body toppled aside, the view it had hidden came into full sight—Ries’s bare body, unguarded and exposed.
Justyn’s head spun. His mouth, hidden behind his mask, could form no sound. He averted his gaze at once, but the tips of his ears peeked out, burning red.
“Ah…”
What pulled him back was a faint, fragile sigh. Ries’s slender body wavered unsteadily, and lightning split through Justyn’s mind.
Damn.
He forced his thoughts into order. Now was not the time.
Grabbing a blanket from the study, he quickly wrapped it around Ries and caught his faltering weight.
“Jus… tyn…?”
“Yes.”
Ries blinked up at him slowly, murmuring his name, confusion and bewilderment plain in his eyes.
Only then did Justyn realize how much he owed him: explanations for how he had found him, how long he had known, why he had kept it secret. He would need to tell him everything. He intended to.
In truth, perhaps he had been waiting for this moment all along.
But first, he needed to move him. Dress him warmly, sit him by the fire, let him rest. His body had clearly been pushed too far. The questions could wait until he had recovered.
Yet that plan fell apart before it even began.
“…Ries?”
The weight in his arms suddenly slackened. If Justyn hadn’t been holding tightly, Ries would have collapsed entirely.
Thud.
Justyn’s heart plummeted. His pulse roared in his ears, his breath came ragged. Rooted to the spot, he clutched Ries’s limp body desperately.
Eyes shut tight. Breath shallow. His delicate frame drained of all strength. Justyn’s entire world narrowed to those signs.
No… No…
He didn’t even know what he was denying—only that the word pounded endlessly in his head. Something buried deep within him smoldered, black and consuming.
—Hey.
“…No… Ries, I…”
—Tch. You really are a mess.
Just as the edges of his vision blurred—
Smack!
Something small flew at him, slapped his cheek hard, and dropped pitifully to the floor.
“…Ah.”
He looked down reflexively—and clarity rushed back.
Round little eyes. Adorable features. A plump, stuffed body.
The doll he had once given Ries lay at his feet.
