A Prince's Burden and a Fiancée's Cold Words

I find it beneath my dignity to pry too deeply into someone else's affairs, I thought with a voice as cold as the wind that never warmed. The room instantly chilled, and Amalfi pouted, while Petra shrugged her shoulders.

After all, Lakeium is Solinar's strong ally, and they've known each other for ages, so it makes sense.

But that's not us, Petra muttered softly.

Nefetia felt Serena's gaze and met her eyes directly. In her turquoise irises, something sharp flashed before vanishing. It was anything but gentle or friendly.

Well, I suppose we should head to the dining hall.

Nefetia spoke briefly, and the princesses hesitated before falling silent. Amalfi still looked as if she wanted to ask more, and Petra did too, but neither clung to Nefetia any longer.

Um, but the princess from Astraria hasn't appeared yet...

Amalfi added hesitantly, glancing between Petra and Nefetia. Nefetia glanced down the corridor. She seemed to need a moment.

True, they're late.

Nefetia answered shortly, then left them standing there and stepped out into the open air. The subtle stares that trailed her back went unnoticed.

After all, they'd meet everyone together at the dining hall anyway, so the only thing on her mind was savoring the breathtaking view of this newly discovered island a little longer.

As she passed through the entrance, the damp air brushed her nose, and her spirits lifted at once. Nefetia strolled slowly, eyes fixed on the ever-shifting scenery of Credo Island. The sunlight, deep and heavy, bathed the entire world in golden hues.

The rustling sound from the grass came at that exact moment. Turning, she found a man standing tall at the edge of the path, back turned toward the setting sun. Shirtless, his broad chest fully exposed, he grinned and flashed a set of white teeth.

Hello... Princess?

Arkin strode along the central corridor of the temple like he was running. When he entered the entrance hall, a laborer had pointed out that the dining hall lay at the end of the eastern corridor, and luckily the temple's interior was simple enough that he found the way without trouble.

As he stepped between the thick, massive pillars that soared to the sky, a faint whiff of food suddenly reached his nose. That must be it? Spotting laborers carrying large pots as they passed between the opposite passages, he was certain.

It was still early. Arkin slowed his steps, stopped, and took a breath. He had thought Elio would keep up easily, but the boy had clearly lagged behind.

Naturally, Arkin raised a hand to straighten his clothes, then realized with a jolt that he had no fabric left to adjust.

How am I supposed to wear this?

Arkin grumbled under his breath. Despite his determination to adapt, it was uncomfortable—uncomfortable, and uncomfortable still. The white sleeveless tunic might feel feather-light and comfortable to others, but not to him. The strangeness was so intense that he had to suppress the urge to rip it off and try something else.

It was too short, terribly short. Even when he tugged at the hem, it only barely reached past his knees. Arkin was bewildered. How was he supposed to sit anywhere like this? Beneath the tunic, the only thing he had underneath was a single layer of undergarments meant to cover his lower half.

Arkin had never once exposed his wrists or ankles before his own mother or the nanny who raised him. From the time he could walk, he had trained himself to bathe cleanly and to dress himself without help.

In Solinar, it was considered refined conduct for highborn adult men to tend to their own bodies meticulously. Borrowing another's hands to change clothes or accepting servants during bathing was the habit of lowborns.

Hah. The strings of his sandals kept slipping loose. Why did they always unravel no matter how tightly he tied them? He bent to retie them, and the hem of the tunic rode up alarmingly. The thick thighs and strong calves were visible, and Arkin broke into a sweat.

...Do the men of Kepet dress like this too? Showing everything below the waist and still not caring at all? So women can watch and they walk about so casually...

Well, at least Nefetia seemed unbothered by it....

In his carelessness, the thought of "some princess" slipped into his mind again. This time it was serious. His body suddenly grew hot. It was a shameful secret he could never speak of, yet from the very first moment he had seen her, he had been tormented alone by it.

When he forced himself to meet her eyes and not look at her body, his breath caught. When he tried to look away, his gaze kept drifting toward her curves despite his will. The prince of Solinar, who had mastered every desire and impulse for the sake of purity and clear-mindedness, felt nothing but self-loathing.

The lively, healthy, sun-kissed skin, the body visible beneath the thin layer....

Ah, Arkin! Sorry!

Arkin startled and turned his head. At the end of the corridor, panting, Elio was approaching.

Elio, are you all right?

The prince of Baylon, it turned out, had a far weaker constitution than expected. Arkin hadn't imagined he would take this long just to cover the distance.

Sorry, I don't run well.

The prince of the fog kingdom's body, clutched at his chest, hung limply like a reed stalk. His lips were parched and purple. Arkin caught Elio's body with one arm and steadied him.

Don't push yourself. Lean on me.

Bu-but, Arkin, your face... it's all red...

Me? No, it's probably the torchlight.

It had nothing to do with his lack of stamina. It was just that useless thoughts wouldn't leave his mind.

Come on, Elio.

Arkin gripped the prince's shoulder and guided him along. The boy protested repeatedly, begging him to go ahead, but Arkin ignored him. He practically carried Elio the rest of the way to the dining hall.

I'm really sorry, Arkin.

Elio lowered his head weakly. He looked ashamed to be relying on Arkin.

Actually, Arkin... I didn't want to come here at all. Not long ago, my father was openly mocked by the prince of Igninof at a banquet. They invited our family, then humiliated us right in front of everyone, and we couldn't move a muscle. Even I, the heir, ended up looking like this. It can only get worse from now on....

Arkin walked on in silence. Around the corner, a massive brown wooden door came into view. It must be the dining hall that Titus had mentioned.

Elio.

Arkin added strength to the arm around the prince's waist and said, If you ever need help, let me know someday. I can assist Baylon. At the very least, ignore their nonsense here.

Elio, who had been hanging his head the whole time, lifted it in surprise. Through the long strands of his hair, a pair of deep, beautiful eyes briefly revealed themselves and looked calmly at Arkin. Like a shooting star falling silently across the night sky, they left a short but striking impression. Then the light vanished, and sadness returned as he looked down once more.

Thank you, Arkin.

They reached the door of the dining hall. Arkin released Elio's shoulder and offered a gentle nod of encouragement.

Haven't you heard? Without fog, there is no forest. Baylon and we are brothers who share many things. At least that's what I was taught....

The statement was perhaps too bold, but Arkin tried his best to convey sincerity.

Let's go in, Elio. I'll stand firmly on your side no matter what Draconis says.

...Arkin is surely going to become a great king.

Arkin gripped the worn brass doorknob and stopped abruptly. He had to open this door and step inside, but his feet seemed frozen. He couldn't take even a single step.

Now I understand why Solinar sings your praises so loudly. They say the successor with such excellent character will become the head of the world alliance. Everyone calls you Arkin, Arkin. The great prince....

Yes, thank you, Elio.

Arkin forced the corners of his mouth upward.

Arkin pushed open the dining hall door with all his strength, hiding the frayed and uneasy heart beneath a mask of indifference. At the same moment, the final bell announcing the gathering rang out loudly.

The dining hall, built purely for function, was bare and empty of decoration. The high ceiling and white walls gleamed under fresh plaster, while the floor was covered tightly with black stone tiles.

Three simple wooden tables with lanterns already seated some of the early arrivals, divided by gender, and just then someone shot to their feet, came running over to greet Arkin, and approached.