OPDSP 32

Even when it was clearly their own fault, the people Aeryl had known would throw fits and blame others without hesitation. That was the default—the Emperor, Empress, other royals, even the nobles were all the same.

He had assumed the Grand Duke was just another one of them—authoritative and unaccountable. So his apology had been a shock.

‘Was I wrong about him?’

Should he test it?

“No, Your Grace. I was the rude one, letting my temper get the better of me. You had every right to be displeased.”

“…No. I wasn’t displeased. I said I understood your anger, didn’t I?”

“But yesterday, you—”

“That part was a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?”

What is he talking about? What was there to misunderstand?

“Yesterday, I asked you—‘Are you angry with me right now?’”

“Yes.”

“I wasn’t criticizing your behavior.”

“Then what was it? Anyone would’ve taken it as a rebuke—‘How dare you raise your voice at someone above you?’”

“…So it came across that way after all…”

The Grand Duke murmured softly, then continued.

“It was just a question. Your pheromones were different than usual, so I wanted to confirm.”

Just a question? Aeryl was dumbfounded. So the Grand Duke hadn’t meant anything by it—and he’d gone and thrown a tantrum all on his own?

‘No, but… still…’

He recalled the moment. Now that he thought about it, the Grand Duke’s tone had indeed sounded more like a question. His pheromones hadn’t been angry or threatening either.

‘His expression and gaze were scary, but if that’s just how he always looks…’

So he’d projected the image of the emperor onto the Grand Duke and gotten riled up all by himself. He’d lashed out and made sarcastic remarks at someone who’d done nothing wrong. Aeryl’s face turned bright red, burning with shame.

“I—I’m sorry… I completely misunderstood…”

“No. It was easy to misunderstand. The question was poorly worded.”

The Grand Duke admitted his own mistake, and Aeryl couldn’t even lift his head. He’d honestly acknowledged his fault and apologized—how could Aeryl ever have thought he was like the emperor?

The Grand Duke was nothing like him. The prejudice had been his. Embarrassment swelled within him.

“No… I was the one who wasn’t rational.”

But even that didn’t feel like enough. Since the Grand Duke had shown sincerity, Aeryl felt he needed to be just as honest. He hesitated a moment, then spoke.

“The truth is… I saw someone else in you, Your Grace. I’m sorry.”

“Someone else?”

“Yes… someone I despise… even though the two of you aren’t the same at all.”

“What kind of person?”

“Authoritative and selfish. Someone who lives in the glow of their own greatness and thinks everyone should naturally devote themselves to them.”

Aeryl vented about the emperor. It was the first time he’d ever said those words aloud.

Naturally—a prince badmouthing the emperor wasn’t just like a son complaining about his father. It was a whole different scale. At best, it was lèse-majesté; at worst, treason. He’d be branded a degenerate throughout the Empire. And yet… he felt strangely relieved.

“…He does sound despicable.”

“Right? Even you think so! He acts all dignified, but he’s embezzling money behind the scenes, messing around with young women—he’s a terrible person!”

The Grand Duke agreeing with him made him even more animated. It was always satisfying when someone else hated the same person you did.

“How did you get tangled up with someone like that?”

Exactly. A child couldn’t choose their parents.

“…He’s my father.”

“…Ah. Your father.”

Aeryl winced. Most people didn’t understand hating one’s own father to that degree.

“…I’m sorry. That must’ve been uncomfortable to hear. Please forget I said anything.”

“No…”

The Grand Duke paused before speaking.

“I’ve never told anyone this, but… I don’t like my father either.”

Aeryl’s eyes widened as he looked at him. He was surprised. Even someone like him had thoughts like that? It was strange—and yet comforting.

“We’re both unfilial children, huh.”

“Yes. Unfilial indeed.”

The Grand Duke gave a small laugh, as if he liked that way of putting it. His lips curved softly, and the frozen look on his face thawed as life returned to it.

It was the first time Aeryl had seen that expression from him. He stared, mesmerized. Sure, he wasn’t actually some monster made of ice like the nickname suggested—of course he could smile.

But smiling like that should be illegal!

For someone who usually looked so cold, the Grand Duke’s smile was overwhelming. The corners of his eyes creased, long lashes casting shadows over his eyes—it was staring into the depths of the sea. Aeryl’s heart pounded wildly, a strange thrill rushing through him, as though he’d glimpsed some hidden, secret thing.

***

The hour had reached the deepest part of the night, and the main encampment of the purge unit lay in silent slumber. In that stillness, the sounds of the forest grew clearer.

Branches rustled in the wind, and beneath the shadow of the moon, something wicked stirred with a faint crackle. Strange noises crept in like the uneasy air that hung in the forest.

‘So loud. Damn it. Why is it so loud?’

Fedel curled up, pressing both hands against his ears. The sound of the wind pushing through the underbrush resembled the gnawing of insects. Every night, the sounds of the forest kept him from sleep.

And yet, whenever he opened his eyes, it felt like the baggage piled around him would turn into shadows and crush him. They said the aura from the forest could erode a man’s mind. Fedel was beginning to realize that the forest’s energy was devouring his sanity.

‘This has never happened before. I’m a veteran. So why—why am I like this?’

He had been a proud member of the purge unit. He had contributed to the success of multiple campaigns. He had worked harder than anyone, devoted himself completely—and yet when he came to his senses, he was branded a criminal.

It’s all because of that bastard.

Fedel pictured Aeryl’s pretty face. No doubt he’d grown up in a wealthy home, loved and protected, living a life without hardship.

He was nothing like Fedel. Born the son of a poor farmer, Fedel had clawed his way to becoming a doctor. He’d studied desperately, done unspeakable things in pursuit of success.

That someone like him had been outshone by a clueless brat was humiliating.

I’m better! I worked harder! I gave more than anyone!

Fedel clenched his teeth in fury. He’d hated him from the beginning. From the moment Aeryl appeared, something about him had felt wrong.

‘Right. A rolling stone dislodging the one already in place. I should’ve known this would happen because of him.’

Back then, it had been pure inferiority complex, but he hadn’t admitted it. No—it wasn’t his fault. It was Aeryl’s. There was something rotten about him; that’s why he’d felt uneasy.

‘What did I do wrong?’

Hadn’t he done the right thing, acting first to stop a wicked man from doing harm?

‘That’s right! I only wanted to protect everyone from that cuckoo! I wasn’t wrong!’

Trapped in his tent day and night, Fedel had been rationalizing to himself endlessly. In his mind, his logic was flawless.

Idiots’. They couldn’t even recognize the one trying to help them.’

The others had all been fooled by Aeryl’s evil act, he claimed. Only he had believed in Fedel. And before he left, he had handed Fedel something.

Fedel suddenly sat up. The object he had pushed aside earlier while pretending to stay calm came into view.

It was a small candle. He didn’t know exactly what it was, but he had been told to light it. That it would save everyone.

‘I’ll be the one to save them all.’

Once that happened, the very people who had shunned him would come crawling back to beg for forgiveness. The Grand Duke would recognize him as a hero, even ask him to become the physician of the Grand Duchy. He’d refuse at least twice. Maybe he’d even be granted a title. He would become the most successful doctor of all!

Fedel chuckled to himself in a daze, drunk on delusion. His ability to think clearly had vanished the moment he’d felt inferior to Aeryl.

The soldiers were keeping watch over Fedel, but for the most part left him alone. They still acknowledged his past contributions to the purge unit and treated him with a certain level of respect. Because of that, most of his belongings had not been confiscated.

He set the candle on the ground and struck a match. With a hiss, a small flame flickered to life. As it threatened to go out, he cupped it with one hand and brought it to the wick. Soon, the flame caught.

‘This feeling… somehow…’

The little flame swayed, casting a faint, flickering light that stirred something in Fedel’s chest. It felt like he had crossed a line. He swallowed dryly for no reason.

‘…Will it really work? …Well, even if it doesn’t, what do I have to lose…? What could go wrong…?’

Whether Ronar’s words were true or not, it would all be fine. That’s what he told himself, desperately brushing aside the ominous feeling growing inside him. The fantasies that had so thrilled him had quietly slipped away—but he didn’t realize it.

‘Alright, alright. I’ll sleep on it.’

Ignoring the unease, Fedel lay back down. The flickering light annoyed him, so he turned over and pulled a pillow over his head.

The flame, once lit, did not go out. It burned steadily. Smoke rose, drifting—slowly but surely—into the forest.

And deep within the woods… it reached something.

—!

A blizzard surged.

And blood-red eyes opened.