A Midnight Promise
Though Priestess Tilly had spoken as if she would follow right behind, no word came from her for a long time. Thanks to that, Arkin was able to remain at Nefetia's side while waiting for her to wake.
Changing direction did not mean his nature would transform overnight. After some time, the emotions that had swelled beyond control slowly settled. Perhaps traces of the potion still lingered. Returning to his usual calm and composed self, Arkin gently stroked Nefetia's soft hair and turned his thoughts to what lay ahead.
She was the one destined to become king of Kepet. Once the competition ended, she would have to return to her homeland. Their parting had been inevitable from the start, so the choices available to him had always been limited.
A meeting worth remembering… something like that, perhaps.
Arkin decided not to speak of his oracle. He did not wish to burden Nefetia, who had only recently begun to feel the weight of responsibility. To carry the expectations of everyone, to bear the hopes of the people toward a predetermined place—that was the fate of princes and princesses. It was not something one could cast aside on a passing impulse.
Still, it was all right. It was fine. Because he knew her heart had been sincere. So it was all right.
Nefetia, whose every thought and resolve showed plainly on her face. Within her burned an unmistakable warmth.
Eyes that sparkled whenever they met his, a gentle smile, the heart that had reached for him again and again, promising to mend his nightmares.
…And.
The hand that had been stroking her hair moved to rest upon her forehead.
The sight of her suffering had lodged in his throat like a thorn. Unable to meet his eyes, wearing expressions he had never seen before, sulking so foolishly…
I'm sorry. When you wake, I must apologize properly…
Arkin wondered what he should say once Nefetia opened her eyes. If he meant to take responsibility for his feelings and his decision, he would have to confess. Not carelessly or without grace—he refused that. What he wanted was a proper, earnest confession. He needed to prepare something… something…
“Hah.”
It was difficult. The king of Kepet who “harbored no personal emotions,” who “loved no one.” Even the fated partner they found was kept not as a consort but as a concubine. He could not simply tell Nefetia, “I like you.” That was the problem.
Then what was he supposed to say when offering her flowers? He could hardly kneel and claim he had “picked them on the way.” And after that? “Shall we sleep together?”
Damn it. Arkin rubbed his face with a dry palm and let out a long sigh.
In Solinar, where a person loved only one partner, the first night between man and woman was a solemn rite. Even self-pleasure was strictly forbidden in the name of cherished chastity, so it was only natural.
Thus, even the first night of newlyweds followed a careful sequence. The husband would compose himself, bathe in purifying water, then bring flowers and kneel before his wife. Only then would he speak the word “love” for the first time, vowing eternal devotion. Next he would respectfully ask to spend the night with her, and if she accepted, that night would become their first as husband and wife. At least, that was how it was done in Solinar…
He tried to imagine confessing seriously without using the word “like.”
“Nefetia. I’m ready now. Shall we sleep together tonight?”
…No. That felt wrong. Somehow repulsive.
“Nefetia, heal my nightmares…”
…Did that sound pathetic? Like a one-sided plea? And worst of all, it revealed nothing of his heart…
“…Arkin?”
Consciousness returning, Nefetia blinked up at him. Arkin quickly looked her over.
“Nefetia, are you all right? Are you awake?”
“…What happened? Where are we?”
She had expected a potion trial, only to wake in a small room instead, so her surprise was understandable. Especially with Arkin—the very person she had been avoiding—sitting right in front of her…
Arkin explained the situation to the flustered Nefetia, step by step: the problem with the Atera potion, the different symptoms each trainee had shown, and Valdemar’s fury as he grabbed Seneca by the collar and shook him.
“Were you all right?”
The longer Arkin spoke, the more Nefetia tilted her head. Everyone else had laughed, cried, fought, and vomited in chaos, yet she looked as though she had simply enjoyed a deep, refreshing sleep.
“Well… I was just fine.”
Nefetia answered briefly and sat up. Perched on the edge of the bed, she lowered her gaze, thought for a moment, then changed the subject.
“What about you, Arkin?”
She was cautious. This was the first time they had spoken since the last incident, and her discomfort was plain.
“I’m fine. Me too.”
The moment the short answer left his lips, a realization struck him. Now. This was the moment. Even if it was imperfect, now was the time to speak to her properly…
Hesitating, Arkin impulsively held out his hand.
“Hold it.”
Nefetia regarded him with puzzled eyes, then quietly reached out. Palm met palm, warmth blooming between them. Arkin laced his fingers through her small knuckles and spoke in a low voice.
“You know… before. I’m sorry. I regretted it. That wasn’t what I meant to say.”
Nefetia looked at him steadily. Moisture seemed to gather in her golden eyes, and Arkin hurried to add,
“I was overcomplicating things. Now I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to accept it.”
“Accept what… exactly?”
Facing Nefetia as she waited for his answer, his mouth kept going dry. How could he say it without sounding awkward…
His thoughts spun uselessly. Arkin’s lips parted slowly.
“…Sleeping together.”
“Sleeping together?”
His face burned, but Arkin forced himself to stay calm. From here on, he had to speak properly. Clearly. Decisively.
“So… tonight…”
The words caught in his throat. Arkin drew a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. Embarrassing or not, a first night demanded seriousness. He would speak as a man of Solinar should—with proper courtesy…
Looking straight into Nefetia’s eyes, Arkin said clearly,
“Tonight, I’ll make you feel the greatest pleasure.”
An enormous silence fell. Nefetia’s already large eyes widened until they seemed about to fall out. Her expression was closer to shock than delight, and Arkin’s face stiffened.
He had thought she would be pleased, so why was she so startled…
Arkin felt as though he might suffocate. Desperate to say something, he added quickly,
“I mean, just once. Let’s try it just once.”
“……”
The air itself seemed ready to burst. At least Nefetia’s cheeks were flushed as well; he was not the only one mortified.
After a long silence, Nefetia finally spoke.
“Just once?”
Arkin nodded at once. The words had slipped out; he could not take them back now.
“So… maybe the nightmares will ease a little too…”
Words he did not need to say kept spilling out. He wanted to slap his own mouth. This was turning his serious resolve into a conditional arrangement…
“Then when? Where?”
Nefetia, still seated on the bed, swung her feet and asked.
“Well… around midnight. Let’s meet in the garden.”
Arkin forced the corners of his mouth upward, trying to look composed.
Nefetia nodded, eyes fixed on her toes.
“All right. Since it’s only once.”
“Yeah. You’re all right with it too, right?”
Arkin rubbed the back of his reddened neck. He regretted adding such a foolish condition, but it was already too late…
Someone arrived to end the unbearable awkwardness. Tilly’s voice came from beyond the door. At the sound of her opening another room, Arkin leapt to his feet and quickly moved the chair aside.
“Tilly’s coming. I should go. Then later…”
He had meant to say they would meet in the garden, but before he could—
Nefetia jumped down from the bed and burrowed straight into his arms. The sudden embrace scattered his thoughts once more. Pressing her forehead to his chest, she mumbled,
“You know, Arkin… in the dream just now, actually…”
“……”
“You were holding me.”
A dry swallow moved down his throat. His heart pounded.
“And… you and I…”
After a brief pause, Nefetia added in a coy voice,
“We kissed too. Very passionately. For a long time.”
Click. The door of the neighboring room opened and closed. Tilly would soon check this room as well; they needed to separate. But…
Something hot surged in his chest. Arkin pulled Nefetia’s small body tightly against him. Holding her as though he might crush her, he asked in a ragged breath,
“Was that just a dream? Or… your wish?”
Nefetia, struggling against his chest, lifted her head. Her hair was tousled, her cheeks flushed rose. In a small, shy voice, she answered,
“…It’s my wish.”