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Turning Chapter 382
🕑 Added 2023-08-24 04:22:50 +0000 UTCChapter 382
Maintaining the usual impassive expression was extraordinarily difficult in front of Kishiar. It wasn't because Kishiar was perceptive. It was because it was becoming more and more awkward for Yuder to hide the truth in front of that man as the days went by.
The most unbearable enemies are always found within, not without. Yuder found the act of avoiding Kishiar's gaze more uncomfortable than anything else, and Yuder knew the reason too.
From the moment he began to harbor genuine emotions for that man, something had started to grow, irritating like a grain of sand that had entered the shoe incorrectly. At first, it was just a little annoying, but now it suffocated ceaselessly like water rising up to the neck.
It was emotion.
The attraction that was forcibly suppressed.
Regret that Yuder didn't even know the name of until recently.
The weight of all those things weighed down on Yuder, making even this small lie difficult to conceal. The past, when Yuder lived directly without disagreement between the head and the heart, felt like a distant memory.
"...Your Highness. If the 'Protection of Blood' is really in the underground dungeon, wouldn't it be better if I go and help confirm it?"
At Pruelle's voice, Kishiar's gaze that had been lingering on Yuder's face disappeared. Yuder then realized that the moment that had felt eternally long was actually just the blink of an eye.
"That would be good. But there seems to be no need to do it right away."
As if he had never looked at Yuder's face, Kishiar skillfully continued the conversation with Pruelle.
"Understood. Call me whenever you need me."
"How is the list of attendees for the party coming along?"
"It is gathering faster than expected, so I will be able to compile and deliver it soon."
As the topic shifted to the list of party attendees, Pruelle enthusiastically shared the stories he had heard from his informants. Among various rumors, what Pruelle particularly emphasized was the gossip that many southern merchants were present in Tainu.
"Upon checking, it turns out to be true. There were still quite a few who remembered a noticeable group of foreign merchants. They likely came here to help move goods and have a deep connection with my father."
"Hmm. I've thought so before, but it seems that their work with Tain is really tied with enormous trust."
"Since they have gained a lot from my father, they certainly wouldn't want to lose that relationship."
"True. Money and interests can be the most certain motive and connection. But... it's still bothering me."
"What part is bothering you?"
"Their purpose, shall I say?"
Pruelle slowly blinked at the unexpected comment, unable to guess Kishiar's meaning.
Kishiar didn't mind the lack of response. With a thoughtful face, he maintained silence before opening his mouth again.
"Prince Pruelle."
"Yes."
"Is there a possibility that those southern merchants will come here again this time?"
'Is Kishiar thinking that the southern merchants will come to Tainu again this time?'
Sending noticeable foreign merchants to this place, where the Cavalry and the Star of Nagran shine, would not be a good choice, even if they had done well last year. Yuder would have made a different choice if he were the Tain Duke, but if blinded by greed and impatience, it was an uncertain matter.
“That... I'm not sure either, but I'll find out as soon as I return to the capital.”
“Start investigating now, if possible. Contact those in the capital for information, and I'd like you to find out more about those southern merchants from your side.”
Pruelle's expression turned thoughtful. Instead of wasting time asking unnecessary questions, he immediately replied that he would do so.
“I understand. I will inform you as soon as I hear anything.”
“Thank you.”
After the meal, Pruelle cautiously asked if Kishiar's demonstration of the divine sword had gone well while he met with Graham. Although he must have seen the radiant appearance of the divine sword hanging at Kishiar's waist when he came in, he seemed to want to hear the story directly.
Kishiar gladly recounted what happened before Baron Willhem and the priests. Pruelle, unable to hide his regret for not having witnessed the spectacle himself, smiled.
“In fact... when I first heard through the Emperor's announcement that Your Highness was the owner of the divine sword, I could not wholly believe it. But now it's different. Thinking about it, leaving the capital at that time must have been part of a grand plan.”
“Really, you think so?”
“Don't you think?”
The questioning voice was that of someone who already knew the answer. Pruelle stood up, looking in awe at Kishiar, who was smiling instead of replying. Before leaving, he left a meaningful remark.
“Now, I will not dare to try to understand the end of how far Your Highness and His Majesty the Emperor are looking.”
The door closed, and the once gentle atmosphere slowly dissipated. Yuder felt the gaze upon him once again. It was a look similar to before.
What to say?
Waiting for the other to speak in the silence was a somewhat anxious affair. Until now, he had never reacted greatly to Yuder’s suspicious side and had rather been interested in it.
As much as Yuder found it difficult to endure even a small lie, Kishiar might feel the same. If Yuder had changed, so could him. And if the day came when Kishiar would lay down the patience they had maintained and wanted to hear about the doubts... Yuder was not very confident about how calmly he would be able to judge.
As Yuder was thinking this, finally, the awaited call rang in his ears.
“Yuder.”
“Yes.”
“You look tired; wouldn't it be good to rest early today?”
“...Yes?”
At a question that reflexively made them lift their head, very different from what he had expected, Yuder looked straight into the face that was leaning askew, chin on the table. The unshaken eyes, transparently revealing their emotions, were looking only at Yuder's face. It was a calm look, as if it had already foreseen even the bewilderment that Yuder was feeling now.
At that moment, the uncomfortable anxiety that had been nagging at Yuder's nerves lost its way. Yuder momentarily lost his words and stared blankly into those eyes before finally regaining his senses.
“I am fine.”
“The assistant always says that he is fine, but to me, you never looked fine. You must be tired from moving around since early morning, so listen to me.”
“No, I am...”
He tried to say he was really fine, but it was useless. A hand that had approached in the blink of an eye touched his forehead, and the words stopped as soon as their lips started to move.
“See, you have a fever. I thought you ate a little less than usual, too.”
“...”
It was... entirely because of Kishiar's gaze. Yuder slowly closed and opened his eyes, aware of the cool warmth of the large hand that covered about half of his field of vision.
A temperature that was cool yet uniquely warm.
The body fragrance emanating from within.
Due to the contact of skin against skin, the dark fog that had been crouching in his chest was suddenly unleashed, and words that should have only been in his chest suddenly sprang from his lips.
"... Aren't you going to ask anything?"
The moment he spoke, a brief regret passed by. It was as if he had confessed to being stung.
"What do you mean?"
"..."
"Is it because I didn't ask you what you were talking about with Mick earlier?"
Of course, it wasn't a question asked out of genuine ignorance. Kishiar knew what Yuder was talking about, but he had decided not to ask anything.
It was as it had been when he said that the key to changing their relationship was in Yuder's hands.
Until Yuder opened his mouth first, Kishiar would never snatch that key or pretend to see it. If Yuder did not approach first, he would never intrude first - a fact that still applied in this situation, clearly realized through those words.
Suddenly, a day when Yuder had his first meal in front of Kishiar came to mind. Yuder had been cautious then, not even touching most of the prepared food, but he had lied emotionlessly when asked if it was delicious.
And then Kishiar had repeatedly asked the same question until Yuder gave an honest answer. The man, who wanted someone who could honestly tell what he felt rather than saying something tasted good when it did not, was still repeating the same thing with the same persistence, albeit in a slightly different way.
He would willingly endure until the wall crumbled and revealed its interior, as he had done so several times already, breaking down Yuder.
Yuder inhaled and exhaled deeply without opening his mouth. Ridiculous as it may seem, at the same time as confirming his opponent's unchanging solidity, his anxiety disappeared, and his mind cleared.
He relaxed his tightly tensed shoulders and opened his mouth with a sigh-like expression.
