Chapter 23

**Line 1:** CHAPTER_TITLE: The Thin Robe and the Weight of Duty

**Line 2 onwards:**

To Arkin Seilir, accustomed to the firm leather armor and thick cloaks worn by the warriors of the winter forests, this sliver of thin fabric felt as if he were standing naked. He sighed, sinking into the corner of his bed and suddenly remembering Nefetia’s appearance. Yeah, Nefetia. From the very beginning, she had boldly revealed her slender limbs. All Kepet people were like that. In the scorching desert heat, it was the most natural clothing. And here on Credo Island, it was the same—already a hot place. Sweat was beading on his back, and if he stubbornly clung to the thick clothes, he might really collapse. “Don’t be so pretentious.” Now he had to adapt to this unfamiliar environment. He would have to spend six months here, and he couldn’t go on complaining about clothes forever. In Solinar’s cold climate, he had never had a chance to try on such attire, so adapting to this custom wasn’t so bad. At least it would show diplomatic flexibility. Adaptability was also one of the virtues of survival. What about the other princes? Had they managed to dress in this outfit safely? Arkin checked his own robe once more, took a deep breath, and opened the door. At first glance, the simple shape of the clothes suggested everyone would adapt quickly… but reality was the opposite. “How the hell am I supposed to put on this crude thing! Do you know who I am? I’m the prince of Voltrion!” There was no one in the hallway, but the moment Arkin opened the door, a frantic voice erupted from the next room. The metallic, grating tone belonged to Kaichen, the hot-tempered prince of the thunder kingdom. At least he wasn’t the only one being unreasonable, and a strange sense of relief washed over Arkin. What should he do? Should he go check on him? While Arkin hesitated in the hallway, Titus, who had been trailing behind calmly, suddenly veered off and slammed the door to Kaichen’s room. “Kaichen, please be quiet! There is no one on this island to assist with your personal life, so adapt on your own and somehow manage it!” Uwa! Uwaaaah! A loud, tormented scream came from inside the room as Kaichen could no longer contain his temper. Arkin, dazed, only bowed his head slightly and passed by without stopping Titus. Arkin headed toward the center of the building. The one who had already finished preparing was not Kaichen, nor Draconis of Igninof. Long, misty silver hair cascaded over his face, and when he startled at Arkin’s presence, his beautiful profile was briefly visible. …A woman? At first Arkin thought it was someone who had mistaken the room, but soon he realized who it was. The slender, thin voice coming from behind him suited him perfectly. “Elio?” The young man looked about the same age as Arkin—or perhaps a little younger. His skin was as pale as pewter, his frame slender. He appeared sickly, yet quite handsome, like a delicate flower blooming in morning mist. “Y-yes.” Elio, who seemed about to vanish into the distance if he looked away for too long, spoke with effort. He seemed awkward and burdened just to introduce himself, and Arkin almost felt tempted to leave the poor prince behind. The slight tremor in his fingers was obvious. “I—I come from the Baylon Kingdom.” His presence was just as faint behind him as now. Arkin recalled that the Baylon Kingdom was a small realm on the edge of the World Alliance, barely holding on. “So… Baylon, the mist kingdom?” “Yes.” The passive prince of Baylon lowered his head again. Though his face was hidden by his hair, his fidgeting hands showed clear tension. “You’re Arkin Seilir, right?” “You know me?” “Of course.” It sounded almost accusatory, as if he couldn’t possibly not know. “Your name is quite famous among the allied princes. How you single-handedly took down a pack of wolves at sixteen….” “…It was just luck.” “They also say you’re an excellent archer.” “If you trained until you were as sick of it as I was, you could do it too. Maybe even better than me.” “That natural humility is also a trait of a successor.” Elio, who had been fidgeting with his hands in embarrassment, looked up at Arkin shyly. A faint spark of admiration shone in his gray eyes through the strands of hair. “My father always said that the Arkin of Solinar would one day become the leader who guides the World Alliance.” Arkin’s face, which had been wearing a formal smile, tightened slightly. He hadn’t realized his name was so well-known among foreign princes until now and felt suddenly unsettled. “Hey! Is anyone there?” The door opened with a bang, and both Arkin and Elio turned toward the hallway. The one bursting out was, as expected, Kaichen, the lightning prince of Voltrion. His tunic was so poorly fastened that one shoulder was completely exposed, and he hadn’t even put on sandals—barefoot. “Where did the priest go?” When Kaichen spotted Arkin and Elio, he glared at them with gritted teeth. When there was no answer, he grew even angrier, ran a hand through his hair, and exploded once more. “You crazy idiots! I know you’ve been hiding and watching! Bring my servants! What kind of nonsense is this? How am I supposed to dress in this thin thing!” With every leap of the prince, his pale platinum hair shot up like it had its own will, as if struck by lightning. “I’ll have you all executed! Insolent, arrogant fools! Completely useless….” “Wait, Kaichen.” Arkin stepped in front of the raging prince. Facing the slender Kaichen, Arkin’s taller and more muscular build blocked his path, and Kaichen froze for a moment. “W-what do you want?” “Calm down and show some manners, Kaichen. Here, everyone is equal. Don’t expect special treatment.” “What?” From the tips of the lightning prince’s hair, yellow sparks crackled. *** “…Therefore, each room is the same size, and jewelry other than the designated clothing may not be worn. And every morning….” The priestess’s voice echoed faintly ahead. Following closely behind her, Nefetia absorbed none of the content, her every thought fixed on what Stella had said. So according to Stella, it meant that here, I really would meet someone…? Nefetia kept flipping her palm and the back of her hand back and forth. The feeling when she had grabbed Arkin’s cloak had definitely been “that sensation.” To be sure it wasn’t her imagination, she examined every gold accessory hanging from her wrist. It wouldn’t tell her anything, but it was the only way she could convince Arkin… “…Entering the rooms of other participants is strictly prohibited, and intimate contact between the sexes is forbidden during nighttime….” Nefetia tried to sense the indescribable feeling that brushed past her as she clenched and unclenched her fingers. Warm yet cool, soft yet intense—it felt like living, breathing life flowing along the tips of her fingers. When she got close to Arkin, something strange happened. The closer she got, the more vitality pulsed through her body. It was like rain falling on the dry desert, or something deeply asleep stirring restlessly inside her chest. And according to Nefetia, that was definitely “Hetasept.” Anything else wouldn’t explain the sensation. Wait a minute. Then… She had to confirm that the feeling didn’t come when touching others… “Nefetia.” Startled by the sharp voice, she lifted her head. Looking back, the rest of the group had already stopped far ahead. She had been lost in thought and walked alone, forgetting them. “Your concentration appears lacking. It has been noticeable several times. Be careful.” Tilly turned sharply and continued her explanation. It was the first time Nefetia had heard such sharp reprimand, and she fell into a panic, clamping her lips shut. What would have happened if the same thing had occurred in Kepet? Even if she had been careless, everyone would have become her eyes and feet. It wasn’t a problem to lose direction for a moment while alive, but here even small matters became reasons for punishment. The gazes of the other princesses that had been watching Nefetia faded away. Yet one gaze lingered on her for a long time—Serena, the princess of Lakelium.