6.
He pushed my hand away before, and now he tells me I can touch him all I want.
Does he want me to treat his wound?
But this is the terrace—I don’t have anything with me.
I almost told him to just go get treated later.
But when his calm eyes met mine, when he willingly held out his hand so trustingly…
I stayed quiet and took out the handkerchief Julie had packed for me.
I folded it into a long strip and reached for his hand.
Then I realized—it was too quiet.
I looked up. He wasn’t breathing.
Knowing that made me suddenly nervous too.
I tried my best not to touch his skin, but it was impossible. My fingers brushed against his rough palm and fingertips. Each time I did, his hand flinched slightly.
Finally, I wrapped the handkerchief around his palm and tied it tightly. A small drop of blood rolled down his wrist.
I wiped it quickly with the back of my hand—then froze.
I shouldn’t have done that.
I glanced at his face.
He didn’t move.
Relieved, I pulled my hand away from the finished knot.
But then, suddenly—his hand shot out and gripped mine tightly.
His palm was hot. So hot, it felt like fire.
He let out a slow breath.
It almost sounded like…a sigh of satisfaction.
I stared blankly at him.
His eyelashes lowered and lifted slowly. Above us, the sunset painted the sky.
The warm light spilled over him, adding fiery colors to his silver hair. Colors that burned like passion—like they could destroy everything inside.
And his red eyes were locked on me.
But I could tell—his entire focus was on our joined hands.
His thumb brushed across the back of my hand.
Heat followed, seeping into my skin.
My hand burned where he touched.
“Um… Father?”
“Yes.”
Surprisingly, his voice was calm.
“You’re holding my hand.”
“……”
“Father?”
At that exact moment, the terrace door opened.
The young attendant entered. His light-blue hair glowed under the fading light.
He carried a tray stacked with food—soup, smoked meat, small sandwiches, and a salad topped with cheese.
His gaze moved to my flushed face… then, noticing the priest, froze on him.
Finally, his eyes dropped to our joined hands.
One eyebrow arched sharply.
At that moment, the priest let go of me.
His voice was quiet.
“…I was holding your hand.”
“Ah… yes.”
It almost felt like the strange tension a moment ago had all been an illusion.
I opened and closed my fist a few times, lowering my hand.
He hadn’t held me that tightly, yet somehow my hand still tingled.
Maybe it was just the alcohol.
The priest bowed his head.
“I’m sorry. That was rude.”
“It’s nothing.”
I shrugged lightly.
He glanced down at the handkerchief around his palm, then gave me a formal bow.
“I’ll return this to you later.”
Then, without acknowledging the attendant, he quietly left the terrace.
“What was that?”
The attendant’s voice was colder than usual.
“Oh, someone pushed me off the railing. He saved me.”
“…What?”
I waved my hand like I was sharing an amusing story.
He set the tray down on the table, then walked toward me.
“Look over there.”
He leaned over the railing and spotted the man dangling from the tree. His brows drew together.
“That bastard…”
“You know him?”
“No. I just know he looks pathetic.”
I chuckled.
“That’s enough.”
Then I lifted my head to the sky. The sunset spread across the horizon—just as beautiful as before.
“Is that the Imperial Palace garden? I can see a lake too.”
He followed my gaze.
“Yes. This terrace has the best view.”
It was the softest tone I’d ever heard from him.
Resting my chin on my hand, I tilted my head and stared at his face.
“Can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“What’s your name?”
“…Why do you want to know?”
“Because you know mine. It’s unfair.”
“That’s it?”
“Why not? If I don’t know your name, how can I call you?”
“……”
He kept his eyes on the sunset and muttered,
“…Zaka.”
A smile curved my lips.
“That’s a pretty name.”
It was a compliment, but he frowned.
That expression again.
His lack of honesty only made him look more endearing.
“Zaka.”
He turned when I called him.
The breeze lifted strands of his hair, soft and shining like the summer sky.
And for the first time, his usually cold gray eyes softened.
“Your hair looks like the summer sky.”
I smiled naturally.
But Zaka stayed silent, like he was holding something back. His gaze shifted away.
The sunset lit his cheek red.
Then I staggered a little. Immediately, his sharp eyes returned, full of scolding.
“Don’t lean on the railing. Do you want to fall again? And I told you to sober up, but instead, you were with some strange man—”
He suddenly cut himself off.
“…Anyway, I didn’t know what you liked, so I brought everything.”
“Thanks.”
I closed my eyes.
“…Don’t sleep standing up.”
“I wasn’t sleeping.”
He sighed and guided me to sit down.
“I’m glad I came today.”
“After seeing that idiot stuck in the tree, you can say that?”
“I met you, didn’t I?”
“……”
His spoon stopped stirring the soup.
“And I met the Duke too.”
“Who? Duke Gladinare?”
“And that priest as well.”
“Are you sure he’s even a priest? Why did you let him—”
“They don’t hate me. Not even a little.”
“……”
“It’s been so long since I felt that.”
“……”
“That’s why I’m glad I came.”
I grinned.
Zaka lifted a spoonful of soup toward me.
“…Eat something. Your stomach must hurt.”
“It does. My heart hurts.”
I pressed a hand to my chest dramatically. He gave a small laugh.
“Are you playing drunk right now?”
That was my last memory.
Somehow, I must have made it back home safely after the banquet.
But the next day, when the sun was already high, I woke up with no memory of what happened after.
Maybe I shouldn’t have had that last round of tequila.
When I went down to the dining room, warm soup was served.
I took a spoonful—then suddenly, a faint voice echoed in my head.
“If you really like it that much…”
The memory slipped away, but it left me uneasy.
I forced it aside, blaming the alcohol, and finished the soup.
Julie entered the room.
I instantly checked her expression.
Her face was the same as always.
Relieved, I exhaled slowly.
“How’s the hangover? You went to the banquet just to drink, didn’t you?”
“No, so many important things happened.”
“Other than drinking expensive alcohol?”
“…It wasn’t that good to talk about this long.”
I couldn’t tell her I had nearly fallen to my death.
At least, not today. Maybe tomorrow.
“Then?”
“I met the Duke.”
I eagerly told her everything that happened—only the good parts.
Her eyes sparkled with interest.
Meanwhile—
“Answer me nicely. Where were you all day?”
Zaka frowned slightly at the hands pressing down on his shoulders.
“What? Can’t answer? Then you know you did something wrong, don’t you?”
“……”
“How dare you steal food from the kitchen? You thought no one would notice?”
The man’s hand began hitting Zaka’s head.
“I’ve seen a lot of servants kiss up to nobles, but you’re the worst. Do you even know who that woman is?”
“I do.”
“Then are you insane? Do you know how much the Imperial family hates her? If Her Majesty the Empress had been at the banquet, you’d be dead! Even giving her water could get us punished.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“You little—!”
“……”
“I even signaled you to leave early, but you stayed till the end!”
“And you just pretended not to see anything?”
“…What?”
“You saw him. That drunk bastard following her into the terrace.”
The man stiffened at Zaka’s cold tone. But he still barked,
“Why should I care if she lives or dies? Better if she fell—it’d save us trouble—”
“Ah.”
Zaka smiled faintly.
He wiped the spit from his cheek.
The man’s mouth snapped shut.
He should have realized it then.
That something about the boy’s calm eyes was… wrong.
He should have realized that this obedient young attendant, who never fought back before, wasn’t quiet because he was weak.
But because he didn’t trust himself to stop once he started.
“…Disgusting.”
And for the first time—Zaka showed his true self.
