Whispers in the Frost
That night, unable to sleep, Arkin stepped out into a small garden within the castle walls. The thought of lying in bed without even a sleeping herb filled him with dread, so he sought a breath of fresh air. Swallowing his troubled thoughts, he wandered across the frost-covered ground until a faint voice drifted from the garden's shadows, bringing him to an abrupt halt.
“Arkin will make a fine heir. You know that as well as I do.”
“Of course I do.”
It seemed he was not the only one unable to sleep. His parents’ low voices carried clearly from nearby. Arkin set down his lantern and slipped into the deep shadows.
“You must offer them some explanation, my love. Tell them it is nothing but rumor, that none of it is true…”
“How can we explain what they have not even mentioned? It would only make us look guilty.”
His father’s barbed tone cut through the air. His mother fell silent, and Arkin closed his eyes.
“The Lakelium lot have already made up their minds. They believe we concealed Arkin’s oracle and have been hiding everything all along…”
“We must explain ourselves somehow. We have to… Otherwise, in the future…”
Arkin stood frozen in the darkness, holding his breath. His mother’s strained, tearful voice tore at his chest. He waited for his father to speak, hoping for some reassurance, however vague, that might comfort her as the cold wind bit at his skin.
The King of Solinar remained silent for a long time before finally uttering a single sentence.
“An explanation? You think you have the right to explain? Who do you think orchestrated this entire affair?”
A silent, devastating shock struck Arkin. As the blood drained from his body, only his mother’s weeping reached him on the wind. So that was the reason. That was why his father had flown into a rage when he declared his intent to swear an oath at the temple, why his mother had wept…
“We are finished. At the training tournament, Arkin will have to beg Serena on his knees.”
His enraged father stormed off. Once his shadow vanished, his mother hurried after him.
The garden fell silent once more, as though nothing had happened. Left alone, Arkin’s shadow swayed before collapsing into the darkness.
Serena and Arkin regarded each other from a distance for a moment. Arkin offered a slight bow first—an obligatory courtesy. Even to a former fiancée, he owed at least that much.
Unlike Arkin, who remained indifferent, Serena’s eyes betrayed clear agitation. After a long hesitation, she finally mouthed the word “Hello.”
Arkin’s gaze drifted away at once. That chapter was closed, and he had far more pressing matters to attend to. Perhaps he simply did not wish to dwell on her, as the sight of her only stirred discomfort. And above all…
“Arkin, you must try to win her over. Her father grants her every wish, does he not? Serena still likes you—she will surely help…”
No. I will handle my own affairs.
He felt Serena’s eyes on him but pretended not to notice. No matter how dire the situation, he had no intention of clinging to her. None whatsoever.
A robed officiant emerged from within the temple. After surveying the cluttered courtyard, he raised a large horn and blew it with all his might. The resounding blast signaled the start of the ceremony.
“All attendants must now exit the building! We will clear the hall! The temple doors will be closed! Move along! Move along!”
The officiant’s voice carried far and clear.
Arkin looked down the steps. Thanks to the semicircular design, the entire courtyard lay visible below. The attendants on the lower grounds surged toward the exits in a chaotic mass, their colorful robes swirling like a turbulent tide.
Magnus, having fought his way through the crowd, climbed the stone steps breathlessly. Reaching the middle of the stairs where Arkin sat, the page collapsed with a groan.
“They said they were limiting the number of attendants! Where did the rules go—sold off for kindling? There are far too many people. I nearly got trampled to death.”
“It concerns the dignity of the royal houses.”
“Tch, what good is dignity? Substance is what matters, like you, Your Highness!”
Magnus raised his voice for all to hear, grumbling as he handed Arkin a small pouch.
“They say you’ll receive clothes and supplies for the next six months here. So there’s nothing much to bring…”
“I know, Magnus.”
“Well, everyone except our prince will have a hard time. These princes and princesses have never lifted a finger. I wonder how they’ll manage once their attendants are gone. It should be quite a sight.”
His plump cheeks flushed as Magnus forced a grin, though his desperate avoidance of Arkin’s eyes betrayed the smile as false.
“You’ve worked hard, Magnus.”
“Hnnngh…”
At those simple words, Magnus burst into tears. Arkin quickly looked away and patted the page’s back.
“Be careful on the way back. Understood?”
“Hnnngh…”
Having delivered Arkin here, Magnus would board a ship and cross the vast sea for days to return home. Though he would receive special protection, the long and perilous journey naturally caused concern.
“Ugh.” Magnus sniffled, shoulders slumping as he muttered weakly, “Then… sniff… Your Highness. Sob… Take care… Even without me, please get up properly…”
“Magnus, I am the one who wakes you more often. What kind of attendant sleeps later than his master…”
“And the food here is supposedly terrible, so don’t skip meals. Chew everything thoroughly.”
“I eat anything. You are the one who hates mushrooms despite living in a forest… Enough. Come here.”
Arkin pulled Magnus into a tight embrace and patted his back. There was something else he truly wished to say.
“Magnus, when you return to Solinar, be sure to greet my mother for me. Tell her I will return with good results, and that she has nothing to worry about.”
“I will.”
Magnus answered with downcast, reddened eyes.
“…And, Your Highness. Please do not worry about anything. Do not push yourself too hard. No matter what the Arrowwood elders say, I have always believed you will become our true king.”
“I know.”
Arkin gripped Magnus’s shoulder tightly before releasing him. He was more than a mere attendant—they had spent too many years together. Through all their bickering, Magnus had been his other half.
Can I truly manage without this fellow? Letting the pang of regret pass, Arkin offered a faint smile.
“Now go. Return safely. Not a single hair on your head is to be harmed. That is an order.”
“As you command.”
Arkin watched Magnus’s retreating figure for a long time. The page’s back soon vanished into the crowd of foreign attendants.
Even after the farewell, Arkin continued to gaze at the temple entrance. The stairs above and below were gradually emptying, while the lower grounds remained packed with people. It would take considerable time for everyone to pass through the narrow gate, so the opening ceremony—or whatever came next—would be delayed.
“Busier than I expected.”
The sudden voice shattered his thoughts. No—it shattered Arkin’s composure entirely.
Startled, Arkin turned to see Princess Nefertia, who had climbed the steps to his level, flashing a bright smile.
“You seemed especially close with your attendant. You must have been quite upset to part with him.”
Her golden eyes, bright as blazing flames, stared straight at him. Sunlight cascaded over her hair and shoulders, befitting the Princess of the Sun.
While Arkin searched for a reply, Nefertia casually finished climbing the steps and sat down beside him without hesitation.