Chapter 58
The wind that tossed his hair was soft.
As the cool breeze brushed against his cheek, Pession slowly opened his eyes.
It was nap time.
Ever since they had started exercising, Arelin—whose physical stamina had been abysmal to begin with—couldn’t keep up, and this time of day had naturally become part of their routine.
Arelin.
The moment Pession’s eyes opened, his gaze darted around in search of one person.
When he spotted Arelin sleeping right beside him, the heart that had been pounding irregularly with unease quickly settled into relief.
He had only meant to pretend to sleep, but he had ended up dozing off along with him. Pession let out a faint, self-deprecating laugh.
I should go back and do my assignments.
His schedule was too tight.
Studies, duties, training—there was nothing he could afford to neglect.
If he gave up coming to Halbern, life would return to the unhurried pace it once had. But now, there was no reason to give it up.
On the canopied second-floor balcony, midday sunlight—broken into tiny fragments by the leaves—spilled over the faces of the two.
Arelin was fast asleep, completely unaware of the world around him. Pession quietly studied that face.
Is he that tired?
Today, too, Arelin had drunk his medicinal tonic with the same expression as if he were drinking poison, then exercised.
Even though he had made it clear with his whole body how much he disliked it, he had still kept up with the routine.
Pession had even heard from the personal physician that Arelin’s stamina was improving. That pleased him.
“I wish he could get better faster…”
Father had told him not to be impatient, but for a boy not even ten years old, suppressing this urgency was too hard.
It wasn’t difficult to be patient about his own matters—if anything, that was easy.
So why?
Why was it so hard when it came to Arelin?
Pession reached out and poked Arelin’s cheek. The soft skin gave way beneath his finger.
“Mmm.”
Arelin, still half-asleep, frowned in irritation and brushed away Pession’s hand. Seeing the slight furrow in his brow, Pession chuckled.
“I really do want to be your dad.”
If he became Arelin’s father, no one would question it even if they stayed together day and night.
Pession’s red eyes darkened.
He knew well enough that Arelin went along with even his ridiculous whims.
But…
Just a little more.
If you’d allow it, could I be greedier?
“Arelin…”
Leaning close, he pressed his forehead against Arelin’s. The faint sound of his breathing tickled Pession’s ear.
The long lashes, the pale cheeks—soft and lovely like spring blossoms—yet there was a fragility to him, as though he might crumble at any moment.
Pession was afraid.
Afraid that something might happen to Arelin again while he wasn’t there.
It was an intense separation anxiety.
He wanted to see him all the time, to always be with him, to know what he was doing, and he hoped Arelin would think of him, too.
Even knowing it was selfish, just the thought that Arelin might think of him even a little made him so happy he felt he could abandon his claim to the throne—or even hand over the whole country if Arelin wanted.
Was he truly losing his mind?
“Haa…”
He wanted to be loved, praised, and told every day that he was liked.
His feelings only grew larger with no limit in sight, but the eyes that looked at him remained dry and indifferent…
Even the occasional kindness was enough to make him feel like he could die from happiness.
“Tch.”
Still, he liked it.
“Arelin.”
Overnight, his entire life had been reconstructed around Arelin, and strangely enough, he could no longer remember how he had lived before.
He was sure that, back then, every day had been fun, exciting, and full of joy—yet now, when he thought about it, it seemed dull, tedious, and boring.
The more he mulled it over, the stranger and more astonishing it seemed, and he found himself checking over and over.
And yet, he knew better than anyone that his feelings wouldn’t change.
A phenomenon born solely from Arelin Sigriya Halbern.
He wanted to protect him, take care of him, be with him, and tend to everything from start to finish.
Perhaps it was a feeling he had discovered far too young.
“Your Highness, it’s time to return.”
The voice of his chief attendant, Griam, sounded softly. Pession knew full well it was time for him to get up.
“Just a little longer.”
Leaving Arelin’s side while he slept was unbearably hard.
“Just a little more.”
Pession Allerremang was a clever boy.
He wasn’t stupid enough to step into a trap he could clearly see before him.
But this…
This was a trap he could not avoid.
“Arelin.”
Pushing back the hair that had fallen over Arelin’s face, he confessed the words he wanted to shout for days and nights on end.
“I like you.”
He didn’t even understand himself why he liked him, or why he was going this far.
At times, the uncontrollable feelings and impulses frightened him, felt strange to him.
But no matter how frustrated, irritated, or troubled he became, the moment he saw this face, everything melted away like spring snow, leaving Pession feeling like a complete fool.
“I just wish you’d like me a little more.”
Because he already liked Arelin so much, perhaps to the point of exhaustion.
“I just want you to like me a little.”
If one were to name the most powerful figure in the Albrecht Imperial Palace, everyone would, without hesitation, name Empress Azeni. But the palace maids had a surprising answer.
The young Lady Sirua.
Clever and charming, this girl could stir the entire palace with nothing more than a gesture.
“Hmph.”
Lady Sirua narrowed her eyes. Pession’s brows drew together slightly.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“What? I’m not looking at you in any way.”
Having just returned to the palace, Pession’s mood dropped the instant he ran into Sirua.
“Where have you been?”
“Do you need to know?”
“You’ve been going out a lot lately.”
“Funny you say that.”
“You’ve been busy, huh?”
“I’ve always been busy.”
“Doesn’t seem like that’s the reason.”
Pession shot her a glare.
“Since when have you been so interested in me?”
“Hmm? Since right now?”
He expected her to get angry, but instead, Pession smiled.
The smile that curved his eyes was still beautiful and dazzling, but far too cold.
“Quit messing around.”
Sirua seemed unfazed.
“Did you eat?”
Either deciding to ignore her or simply unwilling to answer, Pession walked right past her.
Left alone, Sirua crossed her arms and shook her head.
“He’s turned into a complete fool.”
Her tone was far too mature for her age, but the young lady’s maids ignored it—they were used to it.
“Hmph.”
When had it started?
When had her already foolish older brother started becoming even more clueless?
Was it… Arelin?
It wasn’t as though Lady Sirua hadn’t heard the rumors about her brother visiting the Halbern estate every single day.
The entire palace was amused by and supportive of the Crown Prince’s innocent first love.
“First love, huh…”
Sirua crooked a finger.
“Let’s go to Terion.”
The youngest prince, who monopolized the affection of the entire palace, was still eating.
Watching Terion munch away happily, Sirua sat down in front of him.
“Terion.”
“Mm?”
Cheeks puffed out like a squirrel’s, Terion looked at her.
“Have you seen him?”
“Who?”
“Arelin, I think? The one foolish Pession is chasing after.”
Unlike Sirua, who almost never left the sovereign’s quarters, Terion often visited the Crown Prince’s palace. Maybe he had seen him.
Blinking, Terion tilted his head.
“Don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Just don’t know him.”
Losing interest, Terion went back to eating the rest of his pasta with focus. He didn’t seem to care about anything else.
“Good grief.”
Sirua placed more food in his bowl.
“Eat this too.”
“You’re the best, sis!”
As she fondled his chubby cheeks, Sirua fell into thought.
“I really am curious.”
What she had brushed off as a fleeting whim or an exaggerated rumor had lasted far too long.
Never before had she seen Pession skip lessons, avoid returning to the palace, or cling to something so persistently.
“I want to see for myself what kind of stupid face he’s making.”
The problem was Pession.
His guard was so strong that getting past it was difficult.
So the answer was…
“Mother, huh.”
A mischievous smile curled Sirua’s lips.
Mehen rubbed his forehead as he looked down at the official letter from Empress Azeni that had arrived before him.
“What now…”
