Chapter 32: Where Boundaries Begin to Blur

“Huh-?”

Before Kebel could even ask, Osh leaned in close. Then, just like that, he blew gently toward Kebel’s eyes. They were so close that it made Kebel wonder if they had ever been this near before. Osh’s red lips brushed faintly against Kebel’s eyelid before pulling away.

Kebel flinched in surprise but didn’t show it. He told himself it was just accidental, just because Osh was blowing on his eye. He tried to stay calm, convincing himself it meant nothing.

Osh continued blowing softly several times, then paused, still close, quietly gazing down at Kebel. Kebel, in turn, could only blink, as if time itself had stopped.

Even in that moment, he couldn’t help but think, why did Osh look so handsome up close? His skin was flawless, not a single blemish, and Kebel felt a strange flicker of envy.

From such a close distance that even the fine hairs were visible, Osh’s eyes curved softly into a gentle smile. Seeing that expression right before him made Kebel feel like his heart dropped. His vision went white, Osh’s face filling it entirely, and his heart began to pound wildly.

Hearing his own tense breathing, Kebel swallowed hard. His face grew hotter and redder, and Osh let out a quiet chuckle, pulling back with a faint smile. Only then did Kebel finally exhale the breath he’d been holding, lowering his gaze.

For some reason, it felt like he’d just done something dangerously intimate. His face burned so much it felt unbearable.

“Osh… don’t come that close anymore.”

It took all his courage to say that, but Osh remained silent. Kebel couldn’t see his expression, but somehow he imagined Osh might be looking at him with sadness.

But contrary to Kebel’s thoughts, Osh was staring down at him with a chilling, ominous gaze. Unaware, Kebel continued.

“We’re adults now. We should be careful about things that could be misunderstood.”

“Things that could be misunderstood…”

Osh repeated the words slowly, his tone rough at the edges. Kebel felt like he shouldn’t look up, so he kept his gaze lowered.

“Then… does that mean it’s okay to do those things where no one else can see?”

“…What?”

For a brief moment, Osh’s eyes seemed to glint with something almost dangerous, like a flash of madness. Kebel felt his throat tighten. Somehow, he had the strange feeling that after this moment, Osh’s actions would become even more subtle… more secretive.

Because the way Osh was looking at him now, those alluring, almost seductive eyes, made it hard to define what this feeling even was. Kebel slowly rubbed the back of his neck, uneasy.

****

Only one day remained until the coming-of-age ceremony. Originally, the Crown Prince and Enok were supposed to meet, but the Emperor’s sudden decline in health forced the plans to be canceled. Kebel had learned this from the Duke.

As an apology, the Crown Prince sent Enok an invitation. Thanks to that, Enok, despite not being a noble, would be able to attend the coming-of-age banquet at the imperial palace.

Things had already begun to diverge from the original story. Even so, Kebel felt anxiety creeping in over the uncertain future.

Restless, he clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly. It wasn’t enough to calm him. He took a long breath in and out, again and again, until finally he couldn’t stand it anymore and began walking somewhere.

“Are you going to the training grounds?”

“Yeah.”

Ida, who had been quietly following, asked. Without even glancing at him, Kebel kept walking. As soon as they reached the entrance, Kebel removed his coat and handed it to Ida. Then he strode toward the weapon rack and picked up a wooden sword.

The sword, custom-made for Kebel, was worn with marks of heavy use. Ever since the carriage attack, he hadn’t neglected his training. Though that had been his only real combat experience, he never wanted to face such humiliation again.

So he struck the straw dummy.

Each dull thud cleared his mind. Counting under his breath, he continued swinging.

“One hundred one… one hundred two…”

Sweat gathered on his forehead as the count rose. Droplets traced down his face and fell to the ground. Even as sweat blurred his vision, he didn’t stop to wipe it, he just kept striking.

Then suddenly, a sharp pain shot through him.

The wooden sword slipped from his hand and fell.

“Dropping your weapon in battle is no different from signing your death warrant. I believe I mentioned that in class.”

A deep voice echoed through the training hall. Turning toward the sound, Kebel saw Keromon standing there.

Keromon approached quickly and looked at Kebel’s hands. Both palms were red and swollen, blisters torn open from overexertion.

“Young master, I told you, your skin is still delicate. You must wrap it with bandages.”

“…Keromon.”

Keromon frowned slightly. He was the Duke’s guard knight and Kebel’s swordsmanship instructor. Though another instructor would have been more appropriate, Kebel had insisted on learning from him, knowing his skill was exceptional even in the original story.

At first, he seemed strict, but in truth, he was warm and kind beneath the surface.

Keromon pulled out bandages from his pocket.

“Please, give me your hand.”

He carefully wrapped Kebel’s palms, slow and gentle so as not to hurt him further. Kebel watched him quietly.

“You plan to attend the banquet tomorrow looking like this?”

“Maybe… but this is the only thing that clears my head.”

“Then run a hundred laps around the training ground, like I told you before.”

Kebel made a face of disgust, and Keromon smiled softly. That warm gaze made him seem almost like a lady of the house, gentle and comforting in a way the ducal household lacked.

Kebel had known him since he was eleven. Over time, wrinkles had formed on Keromon’s face. Unlike the Duke, who looked young for his age, Keromon appeared older than he was, unsurprising, given his life under the sun.

“Ever since you were eleven… that’s when you changed.”

Keromon spoke quietly, as if confessing. His hands continued working on the bandages.

“You stopped showing your true feelings. No more playful mischief, no more complaints. You became… mature. And that worried me.”

He tied off the bandage. Kebel remained silent, watching.

“Whatever troubles you now, I’m sure it will pass. The Ilya family carries the spirit of brave knights.”

“…”

“So please… don’t carry everything alone.”

Keromon straightened up after finishing. His long gray hair was neatly tied back, and his face bore old scars, including a long one across his cheek.

Kebel stared at that scar.

“This…”

“I know. You got it protecting my mother.”

“…I’m sorry, young master.”

“Don’t be. I heard how hard you fought. From Ida.”

Keromon’s eyes widened briefly, then softened. He gave a bitter smile before looking down.

Sensing the awkwardness, Kebel forced a light smile.

“Thank you, Keromon. And for the bandages too.”

“It’s nothing, young master. Just doing my duty.”

“Please continue taking care of my father… and the Ilya family.”

Keromon bowed deeply.

Kebel placed a hand lightly on his shoulder, then turned toward Ida. Ida handed him a towel, and Kebel wiped off his sweat before putting his coat back on.

As he did, he murmured the name in his mind.

Keromon Toreito.

He knew, in truth, that Keromon loved the Duke. It had taken time to notice, Keromon hid it well, but the longing in his gaze gave him away.

At first, it had shocked Kebel. Then it only made him feel sorry for him.

Because unrequited love, he didn’t need to experience it to know, it was one of the most painful things in the world.

A man who would remain by the Duke’s side until the end, alone.

It was pitiful… but that was Keromon’s fate.

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