LP 1.8 The Most Glorious Knight

“According to the news delivered two hours ago, there’s nothing suspicious. He’s been going back and forth between the barn and the house all day, just cleaning.”

Lucian frowned. Labor? That was hardly befitting a Mage. The filthy appearance he didn’t even want to look at closely came to mind.

Of course, he wasn’t befitting a Mage either. How fastidious were Mages as a race? Lucian was a bit of a neat freak himself, but those guys were on another level.

“Then….”

Leaving behind a slight unpleasantness, Lucian slowly opened his mouth. Anyway, for now, other matters were more urgent than that strange Mage—or whatever he was.

Turning his head absentmindedly, he saw the sky was red. Beyond the western window, the rugged Mardote Mountains, the sun was setting as if being sucked into the space between its two highest peaks.

Once the sun began to set, darkness would arrive faster than expected. Lucian turned his head.

“Attendees of the banquet.”

“As far as we’ve identified, Bastian—he’s a given, of course. Irena and Sorelin will come. Heroden has another fever, so the physician has been in and out of the north tower five times today, so it’ll be difficult. Arabella is, well, away from the castle right now….”

Mylotte rattled off the names of the King’s surviving children. Counting those tiresome faces, Lucian pressed his hand to his forehead. He’d had a throbbing headache since earlier, but there was no more time to delay.

Unconsciously rubbing his brow bone, Lucian headed for the door.

“I’ll take Pellon with me, so you stay behind. Keep in contact with Eydrick.”

Keeping Eydrick stuck in that backwater village wasn’t ideal either, but for now….

“That Mage—”

He was about to say to keep him under surveillance, but the moment he touched the door, Lucian stopped dead in his tracks. Sensing something was amiss, Mylotte narrowed his brow.

“Your Highness?”

“……”

“Are you alright?”

It was the moment Mylotte scrambled to his feet. A bluish vein popped out on the back of Lucian’s hand, which was not only pressing on his brow bone but had completely covered his eyes. A voice, as if scraping the floor, leaked out.

“…Bring him.”

“Yes?”

“Bring the Mage. Now!”

It was the moment the sun completely disappeared between the two peaks of the Mardote Mountains.

---

It was only around sunset that Kosha was able to wash his hair and get out of the bathtub.

The bathwater, which had been shining green to the point of being blinding, was now just ordinary dirty water. But Kosha hurriedly dumped the bathwater, worried someone might see.

Fetching water was a chore, so he usually saved the leftover bathwater to use for cleaning the barn the next day, but this time, he didn’t want to leave it there for even a single night.

He roughly put on a thin linen gown and patted his hair with a cotton towel to remove the moisture. His thick, dark brown hair, which tended to curl, had become excessively long after being neglected repeatedly. The bangs covered the tip of his nose, and the back hair went past his shoulders.

These days, there were quite a few men who grew their hair out a bit, but even so, it was too long for an Izelrant man’s hair. Besides, Kosha’s hair tended to get frizzy and tangled easily. Should he cut it a bit? Kosha pondered.

But growing his hair out was ‘helpful,’ in many ways. If he grew his hair out messily enough, he would be noticeable, but at the same time, not noticeable. That was because he would be recognized as just some ‘weirdo’ in a lump. People would only mock unpleasant things and wouldn’t try to look at them closely.

It was his nanny who taught him this. Since she and he started living together, Kosha’s hair had never been normally short.

How much should he cut it if he were to cut it? Kosha took out a mirror from the corner of the cupboard and blew off the dust. It was when he was carefully sweeping his bangs back behind his ears and estimating the length in front of it.

Crash!

A tremendous sound, as if a girder was collapsing, shook the small house. Kosha jumped, dropping the mirror.

“Mage!”

A stranger shouted. He was a burly man, and behind him, the door was half-destroyed and dangling.

He was so surprised that he couldn’t even scream. He reflexively tried to step back, but his legs got tangled, and Kosha floundered before falling on his butt. At the same time as a gulping sound came out of his throat, he met the stranger’s eyes.

“Mag— …Ah, this, crazy.”

It was when their eyes met. He was speaking with the momentum of a storm, but a moment of silence followed. And the stranger urgently averted his gaze. The ears of the man who had broken in without even wearing a mask were flushed red.

“……? ……?”

Kosha was still sitting there, unable to even breathe, blankly looking up at the stranger.

The stranger, who had been flustered for a moment, strode somewhere. From the door to the armchair, it only took about five steps in the small house. He picked up a crumpled blanket from the chair and threw it over Kosha’s head.

“Th, some clothes.”

“…Yes?”

“Put your clothes on properly.”

Only then did he realize that the knot of the thin gown he had tied haphazardly had come undone.

Ah. Kosha’s face flushed as much as the stranger’s. But the stranger, who had suddenly broken in and urged him to put his clothes on properly, didn’t even give Kosha time to find proper clothes, let alone fasten his gown.

He wrapped Kosha up roughly in the blanket as if packaging him and slung him over his shoulder. A low voice was faster than Kosha’s wriggling.

“Something’s happened to His Highness Lucian.”

The only thing he heard properly among those words was Lucian, that name alone. But that alone was enough to stop all resistance.

“I don’t know what the hell you did to him, but you’ll have to take responsibility.”

His lowered voice was threatening. But the reason Kosha felt like his heart was dropping to his toes wasn’t just because he was afraid of him.

A horse was already prepared in front of the house. He put Kosha on the horse like a piece of luggage.

Before he knew it, it was dark all around, and the forest, which was a shortcut to Ostrahe Castle, was as black as a complete abyss without a single point of light, but the horse carrying the two people plunged into it without hesitation.

---

It was already the middle of the night when they passed through the east side gate of Ostrahe Castle.

Kosha got off the horse almost rolling off. He was suffering from severe motion sickness because he had been loaded on like an object again, but he didn’t even have time to gag.

A rough hand grabbed the back of Kosha’s neck and started dragging him away. The blanket wrapped around his body got caught on his arms and legs and slipped down, eventually being trampled on the dirt floor.

The path he was being dragged along was like a maze.

Kosha had always been bad at finding his way, and the path they were passing through wasn’t lit brightly enough with torches, so he couldn’t tell at all. He was just floundering and being dragged along half-running when.

“Eydrick!”

Someone shouted from above. Hurried footsteps followed. A man holding a torch ran down a gentle slope that curved along the wall.

This time, it was a face Kosha knew.

“Lord Gosrick.”

“The cavalry in Ollet has been detected moving.”

“…At this hour?”

“Marthus’s flag is raised. …Bastian is.”

Gosrick stopped there and his gaze turned to Kosha. Eydrick’s gaze followed his.

At that time, Kosha was just… not understanding any of those names like Ollet, Marthus, Bastian, just covering his mouth and enduring the motion sickness that hadn’t subsided yet.

“…Mage?”

Gosrick suddenly muttered in a dazed voice that didn’t fit the situation. From the face with the unkempt hair sticking out messily to the body, Gosrick, who had looked him over with an incredulous expression, averted his gaze as if he had seen something he shouldn’t have.

Kosha wondered if his gown was undone again, but this time it was fastened properly.

“…Since His Highness can’t move, you have to take the left flank. Bring the kids.”

“I will. But….”

The two men’s gazes fell on Kosha again. Gosrick clicked his tongue annoyedly. He grabbed Kosha’s arm and started dragging him away.

This time, the distance wasn’t that long. He turned corners quickly a few times, and the place he stopped was in front of a narrow staircase that spiraled upwards. Like a tower.

“Go up.”

A rough hand pushed Kosha towards the stairs.

“Go up until you see a door. If you find Mylotte, he’ll open it for you. If you try to run away or pull any tricks, I’ll cut your throat first for sure.”

Gosrick, who had lowered his voice as much as possible, was almost speaking through his teeth. He didn’t seem like the same person Kosha knew. Kosha, flattened by his force, just nodded his head frantically.

“I must be crazy to trust a Mage.”

“……”

“Aren’t you going to go up?”

He snapped. His heart was beating anxiously, but adding more words was a luxury. Besides, if he hesitated even a little, Gosrick looked like he would kick him away completely, so Kosha just hurriedly started running up the narrow stairs as he was told.

Something happened to Lucian again?

But…. But that couldn’t be? The magic used in that potion should have already been broken down and disappeared?

Fortunately, the tower wasn’t that high. Soon, an old and thick wooden door blocking the stairs appeared. Kosha, who barely caught his breath while leaning against the wall, hesitated for a moment.

“…U, um, Mylotte?”

That was the name, wasn’t it. He called out cautiously, but there was no response from beyond the door. The wooden door might have been too thick for his weak voice to pass through. Kosha put strength into his stomach again.

“Mylotte, …Mylotte?”

He raised his voice and even knocked, but there was still no response. Silence continued in the pitch-black darkness, making him feel scared for no reason. Could something have happened inside?

Something bad? As ominous thoughts surged, the sound of his heart beating seemed to thump all the way to his head. Kosha started banging on the door with his palms.

“Hey, hey? Is anyone there? Mylotte? Um, um, Lord Gosrick!”

It was then. The hand that was hitting the door went swoosh—through the air.

Kosha, who had been swinging his arm with all his might, staggered. He unknowingly grabbed what was in front of him and raised his head.

And their eyes met.

The stairwell was dim and the person who opened the door was backlit… but Kosha was certain that the person wasn’t ‘Mylotte.’

The light from the room that leaked through the crack in the door dimly illuminated Kosha’s face. Pale gray eyes narrowed. His gaze swept over Kosha in an instant. From head to toe.

“Uh….”

Only then did Kosha realize that what his hand had inadvertently grabbed was the hem of his shirt. It was when Kosha awkwardly tried to step back, withdrawing his hand, when.

Lucian smiled and opened his mouth.

“Ah, I see. This one’s the ‘real’ one?”

Real, what was? But before he could even ask back, a large hand grabbed Kosha’s shoulder and pulled him inside.

Compared to the smile that seemed endlessly gentle, his touch wasn’t kind. The hand that pulled Kosha into the room pushed Kosha again. At the same time as his back was painfully pressed against the door, the door was pushed shut as it was. Squeak, thud.

“Your, —Ugh!”

His hand was faster than his words. Lucian swept back Kosha’s disheveled bangs. The inconsiderate touch was practically grabbing his hair. Kosha’s terrified eyelashes fluttered.

Cold, pale gray eyes scanned his face. Then he smiled casually.

“I thought there might be something more.”

…More, what was? Kosha blinked, blankly looking up at him. Seeing that, Lucian frowned for a moment and then grabbed Kosha’s face. His large hands were more than enough to hold both cheeks at once.

His hands turned Kosha’s face this way and that, as if checking something, admiring it, or appraising it.

“Love Potion or whatever….”

“Yes?”

“Did Bastian send you too?”

For Kosha… it was still nonsense. Who was Bastian? Anyway, he seemed to only know that Lucian was a bit strange.

Your Highness, are you alright? Lord Gosrick told me to find someone named Mylotte, but I didn’t expect you to be here. First of all, may I diagnose what’s wrong? It might not be a problem caused by my magic potion, but in fact, I think there’s a high possibility that it’s not, but still, I’ll help with what I can… Kosha, who had organized what he wanted to say in his mind, took a deep breath and opened his mouth.

“Your Highness, are yo— Ack!”

The hand holding Kosha’s hair tightened. It felt like his scalp was being torn off, and he couldn’t even finish a single word of what he had prepared.

Kosha was dragged to a chaise lounge in one corner of the room as he was. Lucian knelt Kosha in front of the chair and straddled it.

He was suddenly kneeling between the man’s legs and looking up at him. Even if he was clueless, he knew that this was a bit strange.

“What did Bastian tell you to do?”

He rested his arm on his thigh, propped up his chin, and looked down at Kosha.

So, who was Bastian? The only person Kosha knew was Lord Gosrick. But he couldn’t open his mouth carelessly. He was being pressed down. By what? Since earlier, since being dragged into the room. The air was unusually heavy.

That weight was getting heavier the more he was dragged into the center of the room. He felt like he was being crushed by about twice the weight of the air. His lungs kept shrinking and it was hard to breathe. His plump lips moved futilely.

Was he just feeling that way because he was overwhelmed by the atmosphere and terrified?

“It’s okay, tell me. I might listen.”

Lucian smiled gently. It was a smile that felt like something terrible would happen if he believed it.

“I could just kill you here and pretend I didn’t know, but it’d be a bit of a waste.”

“So, I, first of all, a diagnosis, yes?”

“Well, you’re a guy, at least.”

He leaned back languidly, who had been leaning forward, and crossed his legs. The tip of his clean leather boots, which shone glossily, dug into the front of Kosha’s thin gown.

The skin, the color of freshly squeezed ewe’s milk, was flawless. Whether the other person was horrified or not, the rude toe of his shoe opened the front of his gown a little more.

His nipple was revealed. It was a light pink color like a rose in the King’s greenhouse. The protrusion that sprouted in the middle was very small.

As if it had never been sucked by anyone.

—There’s no way. Lucian smiled crookedly.

How many of these things had he seen? Wet hair, damp skin, a piece of cloth that was worse than being naked. Things that had jumped in prepared to be ‘used’ right away. Some of them were skilled, but some of them pretended to be innocent, as if they didn’t know men.

Of course, it was the first time a guy was doing this, though.

Well, there’s never been such a plausible face like this, either.

It was a face that was very suitable for pretending not to know anything. It was when Kosha was wiggling his butt, trying to step back on his knees. Lucian released his legs and bent his waist. His hand reached out and grabbed Kosha’s hair again, stopping his weak attempt to escape.

“It’s not a flaw to have experienced one or two rent boys, not in this day and age.”

“Ren—? No, it’s not. I’m not.”

“It’s better, even. No chance of getting pregnant.”

“There was a problem, Love—”

“Just answer the questions, don’t talk as you please.”

Smack. His palm struck his cheek. Because his hair was being held, the impact was fully transmitted, ringing in his skull. Half of his left face was burning and his vision flashed.

“Ah, ah.”

Of course, Kosha had already been hit by him several times. Compared to the previous ones, this one was clearly weaker. If he were human, he probably wouldn’t have felt much pain.

But a Mage’s skin was weaker than a human’s, so Mages were more sensitive to pain than humans.

Kosha clutched his cheek and cowered. Violence was closer to something the body remembered than the head. Kosha knew well how painfully Lucian, who had ‘a problem,’ could hit people.

“Such theatrics….” Lucian sneered.

“Or what, did he tell you to get him seeded or something?”

Here? The toe of his boot dug into the inside of his almost completely undone gown. The hard leather touched Kosha’s lower abdomen. It was a light, probing movement, but Kosha was panting as if he had been kicked in the stomach.

And Lucian seemed to have understood that as an affirmative answer. He narrowed his eyes and smiled.

“Ah, really? It probably won’t work, though.”

He didn’t have the energy to think about what wouldn’t work. Kosha bit the inside of his lip hard to take care of his fading vision and weakening limbs.