LP 2.3 The Lizard with a Tied Tail

The first mishap occurred around the fifth book. With a loud clatter, five books failed to reach the desk and instead tumbled to the floor, suspended in mid-air halfway down.

“Ah.”

Kosha was flustered by the pile of books lying askew.

“It’s just… they were heavy.”

He reflexively tried to make an excuse, but his lips met something first. To be honest… it seemed that at some point, these kisses had stopped distinguishing between success and failure.

“It’s fine.”

“……”

“Well done.”

Five books… Lucian muttered as he knelt down to tidy them up, lifting them a few times as if gauging their weight.

He seemed unfazed and had even said it was fine, but Kosha couldn’t help feeling a bit anxious and watched him cautiously. Perhaps it was because he had only seen him succeed flawlessly for the past few days…

“Your Highness, um…”

Originally, he had planned to show it after a bit more practice, when he felt a bit more confident…

“But, you see, I can also do this.”

Was this the feeling of a teenage boy showing off like a circus performer in front of a girl he liked? That feeling of flaunting a foolish act no one asked for.

In reality, he hadn’t properly experienced adolescence, and of course, he had never had a fresh, youthful first love, so he couldn’t exactly know what it felt like…

Kosha cupped his hands together as if to catch water from a fountain, his slender fingertips trembling slightly. Just as Lucian raised an eyebrow, failing to grasp his intention—

A ripple seemed to form in the air, and an apple appeared out of nowhere, gently settling into his palms. A sharp breath followed, one he had been holding back in his nervousness.

“…An apple?”

“You see, this is… well, I brought it from my room.”

His voice carried an unmistakable sense of pride. He had been a bit worried, but it was a success. Not magic to send an object in hand, but magic to bring an object from afar—summoning magic.

“It was in the fruit basket. The one you sent me back then. I originally kept it on the nightstand next to my bed.”

Kosha explained eagerly. The direction of the force had to be reversed, more mana was needed to construct the path, it wasn’t intuitive, and it was much more complex. Humans might never fully understand magic, but he still wanted to boast. He wanted to be acknowledged.

That he had practiced to show him this difficult feat.

But the reaction was a bit different from what he had expected.

Lucian didn’t smile. His expression stiffened oddly, and Kosha’s rambling explanation gradually faded before stopping altogether. Was the explanation too difficult? He was inwardly worried when—

“I never asked you to do such a thing.”

…It was a statement Kosha had never anticipated.

“Ah, s-should I not do it? S-sorry.”

Kosha stammered, overly flustered. He was about to either send the apple he had summoned back or crush it to remove it from his sight, but Lucian was faster. He snatched the apple from Kosha’s hand.

His gaze scrutinized the apple as if inspecting it. He seemed to be pondering something before slowly shaking his head.

“…No, that’s not it. It’s just… impressive, and I’m proud of you.”

“……”

“Hmm, I didn’t know you could do something like this.”

A calm smile returned to his previously expressionless face. It was clearly the same smile as usual, but the moment he thought he sensed a subtle unease—

“Then… can you summon any object?”

“Any…?”

“For example, something like Sir Bastian’s signet ring from his study?”

Since I don’t know much about magic, I’m curious about its limits. He added amiably.

Kosha blinked at the sudden question. His mind had already reflexively calculated a few possibilities upon hearing it. The mana, sensing the flow of magical thinking, began to surge tautly within his body.

But Kosha soon had to shake his head. No clever plan came to mind.

“That’s a bit…”

“A bit?”

“I, I don’t know where that study is, so it might be difficult. And I don’t know what the ring looks like…”

“So if you know the exact location and object?”

“…Maybe? I’d need to see the object at least once.”

Merely hearing a description would leave too wide a margin of error. Unless accompanied by a very precisely drawn picture. Kosha frowned and answered earnestly.

“And if it’s too far, it might be a bit difficult too.”

“…I see.”

I understand. That’s still helpful. Lucian spoke kindly again. He had returned to a completely lenient atmosphere, and just as Kosha felt relieved and was about to smile along—

Lucian asked with the same smiling expression.

“But aren’t you going to ask why I’d need such an object?”

His voice was subtly probing.

“Huh?”

“It’s theft.”

It took a moment to process those brief words. Kosha’s eyes widened. His lips twitched a couple of times as if searching for words.

“It was theft…?”

No, of course, he thought there must be some reason.

Because, how could Lucian possibly be thinking of theft? But it was theft? Why theft…? Flustered, Kosha gaped, but Lucian let out a small laugh and shook his head.

“No, of course not. It’s not theft or anything. I was just asking. Don’t mind it.”

His hand reached Kosha’s head, tousling the curly, dark hair.

This too had become familiar. Kosha no longer worried about his hair being grabbed when Lucian placed a hand on his head.

He was composed and said nothing more. So Kosha thought he had clearly played another prank on him. He wanted to become someone skilled and mature enough to cleverly deflect such pranks, but it seemed he still had a long way to go.

The sky visible outside had already been mostly swallowed by a dark blue hue. Only a faint trace of red remained near the mountain ridges. Judging by how Lucian kept unconsciously pressing his temples, it seemed the side effects of the elixir were about to begin.

“Shall we go to bed now?”

Lucian, who had been idly playing with his hair, asked.

His phrasing was often peculiar. Sleeping was something he did alone, yet he always asked like that. As if… they were sleeping together.

Wouldn’t someone misunderstand if they heard?

But it was awkward to point it out, and he didn’t know how to correct it, so Kosha could only nod and say, “Let’s.”

Lucian lightly took Kosha’s hand and led him. It was the door opposite the one they had entered.

Kosha already knew that door led to the bedroom.

His bedroom was also simple, without much decoration. It smelled of the cozy scent of well-dried fabric, and the air was slightly warmer, which was the difference from the inner chamber.

He removed his outer garments himself, becoming lightly dressed. It seemed he had already bathed before Kosha arrived, as a damp rose scent wafted with his movements.

Kosha averted his gaze as if not looking and secretly sniffed, inhaling the scent deeply. Did he add rose oil to the bathwater? Seeing that the lingering scent remained even after his hair dried, it seemed to be no ordinary luxury item.

Imagining his private time had become one of Kosha’s small recent pleasures. If he could read Kosha’s thoughts, he would surely curse him as shameless. It’s really fortunate he’s merely human and can’t read others’ minds. Inwardly relieved, Kosha imagined what other perfumes might be in his bathroom.

“What are you thinking about?”

Lucian, who had by now casually kicked off his shoes and sat on the bed, asked. He sometimes asked things like this. But Kosha couldn’t answer truthfully because each time, he was thinking about him.

“Just…”

“Just?”

He mimicked Kosha’s words and stretched out his arm as if beckoning him over.

“I was thinking… the bed looks nice…”

Under the gaze urging an answer, Kosha made up something. The bed? As if surprised, Lucian glanced at his own bed.

It was a thick, sturdy four-poster bed tailored to his height and build, draped with two layers of curtains: a thin one that faintly revealed the inside and a thick one that could completely block sunlight. The feather-filled mattress, white silk bedding, and embroidered blanket were all high-quality but not particularly extravagant.

Since he didn’t ask further questions, Kosha decided to lay him down on the bed. Carefully pressing his shoulders, he obediently flopped down.

If he could make him sleep with magic until sunset, Kosha’s duty for the day would be over. This too had been decided since the day of the second kiss.

When he heard he had been suffering headaches from taking sleeping pills, he felt so sorry. He even wondered if he had kissed him because he was out of his mind from the headache.

Of course, he didn’t still think that way…

Anyway, Kosha willingly volunteered to act as his sleeping pill.

This too required arduous preliminary practice and verification. A few messenger pigeons raised by Mylotte, a yellow cat inexplicably caught on the street, a well-bred black hunting dog Lucian had brought from Callot, one loyal attendant, Sir Gosrick who was reluctantly mobilized, and finally Mylotte himself. Only after they all experienced a night of comfortable, deep sleep without incident did Kosha finally become qualified to act as Lucian’s sleeping pill.

Sleep-inducing magic wasn’t as difficult as one might think. It had a clear beginning and end and was merely a passing flow of mana. It became slightly easier at night when he could borrow the power of darkness and the moon. On nights he often couldn’t sleep, he would cast it on himself.

Precisely controlling the duration was a bit tricky, but recently, perhaps because he kept “practicing” with Lucian, using magic had gradually become easier, so it wasn’t that difficult either.

Just as Kosha roughly estimated an appropriate sleep duration and channeled mana to his fingertips—

“Want to sleep here?”

Whoosh—the overly shocking words caused the mana to leak. A greenish, flame-like aura flickered at his fingertips before vanishing.

“Huh? Wh-what are you saying?”

“You said you liked the bed.”

Though he raised an eyebrow at the trace of mana, Lucian’s voice remained composed.

Kosha gaped again. Well, of course, the bed was big. It was large enough for another person Lucian’s size to lie down, so there would certainly be enough space for a scrawny guy like Kosha to curl up and sleep.

“You shouldn’t say things like that…”

Kosha admonished with a thumping heart. What if the other party harbored impure thoughts toward him after hearing such words…

“And you shouldn’t startle me when I’m using magic. It could be dangerous.”

His wavering voice didn’t sound very stern. Lucian merely chuckled briefly and closed his eyes, and Kosha bit his lip, feeling awkward. It must have been another prank.

Feeling unnecessarily sulky, Kosha covered his eyes with a slightly less careful touch than usual.

“Then… sleep well.”

The most comfortable sleep during the time darkness descends, accompanied by just a tiny bit—enough not to disturb sleep—of good dreams where wishes come true.

A mage’s wish materializes through mana, manifesting as a phenomenon in the external world. Through his palm, onto his skin, eyelids, into his mind, sleep seeped in.

Even after his breathing settled evenly, Kosha remained still for a while, covering his eyes.

Lucian was asleep before him. Defenselessly. And Kosha was standing in Lucian’s bedroom.

Among the countless people who loved Lucian, who cheered for him and offered him flowers on the streets, how many had entered this bedroom? Perhaps Kosha was the first. And those who had seen Lucian’s sleeping face this closely? That, truly, Kosha must be the very first.

So this was truly a remarkable event worth remembering for a long time. Even if, after this matter concluded well, Kosha returned to that small, shabby house in the remote countryside, he would remember this day’s events for a very, very long time.

Perhaps he might even live his whole life on the memories of this day.

He wasn’t sure if he deserved to take away such good things when he had only caused him harm by getting entangled in unfortunate events. But…

Wanting to imprint it as vividly as possible in his mind, Kosha deliberately slowly looked around the room once.

---

Mylotte noticed something odd not long after.

No, honestly, if you consider when he first began to feel suspicious, it was much earlier than that.

But Mylotte was a person with many other matters to attend to. Moreover, making a fuss over such a trivial issue felt a bit burdensome, so he tried hard to push the suspicion out of his mind and not think about it.

However, recently, it had become impossible to ignore. Because it had finally become visible. All too clearly.

…The Mage’s swollen lips.

It was maddening how it caught his attention every time they met. There was a limit to trying not to look. Almost every time he met the Mage, he would also see Eydrick, who was assigned to monitor him, and Eydrick’s gaze was also fixed there.

Of course, Mylotte, being a workaholic himself, demanded much from the advisors under him, and he didn’t pay much attention even if they appeared with puffy eyelids and lips from overwork. But in this Mage’s case…

First, the Mage’s appearance was… extraordinary. Rather than growing accustomed to it over time, it felt like it was becoming increasingly intense. The slightly tousled hair from before had now become neatly arranged, glossy, soft curls. Did Ostbrahe’s water suit him well? It was so bizarre that even such trivial thoughts crossed his mind.

With a flawless face, only the lips were swollen, making that peculiar “flaw” excessively eye-catching.

And, above all, the fact that Mylotte seemed to know the culprit too well also played a part.

Visiting Lucian’s inner chamber with documents for a report, Mylotte looked around the space with a somewhat astonished expression. The inner chamber, where all decorations had been removed, leaving only essential furniture, felt oddly empty.

It wasn’t originally like this.

Lucian had refined tastes and wasn’t particularly frugal by nature. He didn’t hesitate to spend money for a lifestyle that suited his preferences, supported by Callot’s solid finances, led by income from the Idelma Mine, and the enormous private wealth accumulated by previous lords.

This inner chamber too was originally adorned with all sorts of ceramics and decorations, more splendid than the office.

The timing of having all those removed… quite coincidentally overlapped with the timing of summoning the Mage here.

Mylotte suddenly thought about his lord’s clothing. It was true that since childhood, he had preferred simple, unadorned clothes. But it wasn’t because they were comfortable or suited his taste…

“Then you’ll look at the clothes instead of me. I hate that.”

Around twelve years old, with a face as beautiful as an angel in ancient murals, Lucian had said that.

From that age, he had been quite cunning, hadn’t he? Using that pretty face to melt everyone from the previous Lord of Callot to the stubborn nobles and the elders of the council. Thanks to that, he became the Lord of Callot at such a young age, freely handling its finances, and even came all the way here to Ostbrahe…

As Mylotte looked around the empty surroundings with somewhat mixed feelings, the inner door opened and Lucian walked out. Having taken the knights to warm up in the training grounds since morning, he seemed to have taken a quick bath, as his hair was wet. A strong floral scent wafted with his movements.

He wasn’t sure exactly what scent it was, but wasn’t it an overly soft floral fragrance for a grown royal man to use? Mylotte frowned slightly.

“You don’t usually use scents like this, do you?”

Mylotte asked, and Lucian, flipping through the documents he had brought, replied nonchalantly.

“This one gets the best reactions.”

…From whom?

Mylotte naturally wondered, but his lord said no more. But somehow… it felt like he knew without needing to hear it.