Ian pointed toward the door, tapped his fingertips against his own chest, then lightly gripped the collar of his shirt.
What he wanted to say was, the person I grabbed, out there, just now, but despite how seriously he was trying, his gestures were an abysmal attempt at conveying it.
Had this been a game of charades, time would have been called without mercy.
Fortunately, Kyle possessed the uncanny ability to understand even the most disastrously expressed meaning. The way he clenched his molars as though suppressing laughter before casually opening his mouth made it obvious that he had understood perfectly.
“Ah~ I think I get the gist of it.”
“…”
“Do it again. I’ll try to interpret.”
In any case, Ian was the one at a disadvantage.
When he pointed toward the door again, Kyle put on a surprisingly serious expression.
“Out there, just now.”
Correct.
Despite being the one making the gestures, Ian had not expected much, so he nodded with visible surprise.
Kyle urged him to continue.
“Our prince.”
When Ian tapped his own chest, Kyle once again understood with almost unnerving accuracy.
Ian despised that wretched title, but for now, he had no choice but to accept it.
Having revised his opinion of Kyle from annoying bastard to annoying bastard with decent intuition, Ian gripped his collar for the final gesture.
Kyle grinned confidently and winked as though to say this was child’s play.
“The one whose collar you grabbed.”
Grabbed…
“That bastard?”
“…”
“…”
So he was not merely talkative.
He was also a bastard with a remarkable talent for putting words in other people’s mouths.
“Hey, that’s harsh. He’s the one I serve. How can you call our Grand Duke a bastard?”
“…”
“No matter how foul the other person’s personality is, huh? What do you mean, a bastard? A prince shouldn’t use such vulgar words, pfft… hahaha!”
He was laughing at his own joke.
Completely oblivious—or pretending to be oblivious—to Ian’s icy expression, Kyle began pounding the table as he cackled.
Things had been going so well.
One might have dismissed it as a misunderstanding depending on how generously they chose to interpret the situation, but Kyle’s next words made it perfectly clear that he was doing it on purpose.
Should he actually stab him in the neck this time?
Ian’s gaze drifted toward the dagger Kyle wore in the same place as yesterday, and within seconds he had already begun constructing a murder plan.
A man like Kyle seemed like a leaking bucket in every conceivable sense. If he were discovered dead somewhere, people would probably just nod and think, Well, it was bound to happen eventually.
Perhaps sensing that his future as a cold corpse was only minutes away, Kyle abruptly looked up from his enthusiastic slander.
“So, you’re curious about our Grand Duke?”
The fact that he understood Ian so absurdly well only made him more irritating.
“What else are you curious about? Is it because you’ve only heard about his reputation and this is your first time seeing him in person? Well, I guess people usually react in one of two completely opposite ways when they actually see our Grand Duke. Foreigners especially tend to think he’s some kind of monster.”
The Higher family had always been famous, but after the war fifty years ago, stories about them had spread from country to country by word of mouth.
Some claimed the Grand Duke stood more than three meters tall.
Others insisted his face was covered in snake scales.
Those rumors were almost laughable compared with the rest.
That he slaughtered people and bathed in their blood.
That if one dug through the snow in the forest, frozen corpses would be found lying beneath it.
The more people embellished the tale, the more grotesque the Grand Duke became.
And once the grim rumors surrounding the current Grand Duke of Higher were added to the mix, the stories became even more terrifying.
People who had never once seen Logan in person believed those ridiculous tales as though they were gospel.
Kyle had witnessed it countless times—people trembling like mice, genuinely terrified that Logan might suck the blood from their bodies, only to fall utterly speechless the moment they actually saw his face.
“Nah, he’s not as bad as the rumors say.”
Of course, the part about the corpses in the forest was true.
There were a few other truths mixed in there as well.
Kyle casually ignored those and desperately racked his brain for something—anything—good he could say about the Grand Duke.
He threw out the window the fact that Logan tended to cut down anyone he disliked, noble or otherwise.
He shoved under the bed the inconvenient detail that the man could have his stomach pierced through and be perfectly fine again the next day.
He buried deep in the forest the abnormal strength that allowed Logan to snap a man’s neck with one hand, the fact that he barely slept, and the bouts of madness that seized him like violent fits.
Kyle’s eyes darted around.
At last, he found something.
“It’s true the Grand Dukes all die young.”
What a relief.
At least they died relatively early.
As Kyle began explaining the Higher family’s history of rarely surviving beyond their thirties, Ian—who could not understand why this had suddenly become a positive point—tilted his head.
“The longest-lived ancestor made it to forty-one. Usually, they suddenly drop dead somewhere in their early to mid-thirties. So, looking at it that way… maybe you could say he’s physically weak? Hahaha.”
Weak, my ass.
It was true that members of the Higher family died young, but anyone who knew the name Higher also knew that they certainly did not die easily.
Pleased with his own advanced attempt at humor, Kyle grinned at Ian, who was staring at him with an odd expression, and muttered under his breath.
How about that? Sounds human, doesn’t it? He comes back to life even if you kill him, but he does eventually die, so that makes him seem human, right? Hahahaha.
“…”
Unfortunately, the person listening to him was Ian.
Ian, who knew absolutely nothing about this world.
Physically weak.
Ian recalled the man he had seen earlier.
Nothing about Logan’s appearance seemed remotely weak, but appearances alone could not tell you everything.
Perhaps he suffered from some unknown disease.
Perhaps there was another reason entirely.
Whatever the cause, Kyle’s words meant that the man here would also die before long.
People died.
That was the most natural thing in the world.
And yet, for some reason, a chill passed through Ian’s chest.
Completely unaware that his joke was being accepted as literal truth, Kyle went on emphasizing the Grand Duke’s supposed frailty several more times.
Ian’s occasional nods and faint reactions seemed to excite him, and Kyle enthusiastically continued promoting what he had decided was Logan’s greatest virtue:
that, ultimately, he would die young.
Had Claude been there, he would have smacked Kyle across the back of the head.
Unfortunately, only the two of them were in the room.
And so the misunderstanding continued to pile up like falling snow, unnoticed by either of them.
Kyle had been chattering away for some time when the noise outside the window suddenly grew louder.
With a smile, he added one last comment.
“But you really chose well.”
It came out of nowhere.
Perhaps realizing that Ian could not ask what he meant, Kyle fell silent for a moment before speaking again in a low, almost confidential murmur.
“Rox, I mean. For sending a low-ranking prince who’s fearless and emotionally stable. They chose well.”
Abandoned in enemy territory despite his noble birth.
Most people would have spent every day boiling with rage or soaking their pillows with tears.
At the very least, they should have been frightened.
They should have despaired over their circumstances—especially after losing even the ability to speak.
But this foreign prince was nothing like that.
Rather than despairing, he seemed as peaceful as if he had merely come here on a trip.
The way he accepted everything so naturally made him seem less like the person trapped in this predicament and more like a detached observer watching it happen to someone else.
Kyle had briefly wondered whether that was normal.
But after observing Ian for several days, he had reached his conclusion quickly.
They had chosen well.
“It’ll start getting cold tomorrow.”
It was chilly now, but not truly cold.
Remembering that the temperature had remained fairly consistent for the past several weeks, Ian looked up.
But just as Kyle had entered without warning, he now headed for the terrace without warning and waved over his shoulder.
“Don’t want you catching a cold. Cover up well, our prince.”
As though he were genuinely concerned over something so trivial.
***
When Ian opened his eyes the next morning, the world beyond the window had turned completely white.
The room itself was well sealed against drafts, so it was not particularly cold inside.
Still, when he climbed out from beneath the covers and approached the window, a chill gradually seeped through his skin.
At dawn, a maid had come in, placed logs inside the fireplace—which until then had served as little more than decoration—and lit a fire.
Ian had not thought much of it at the time.
He had not realized so much snow could accumulate in the span of a single day.
Standing by the window now, he suddenly remembered Kyle’s words from yesterday.
It’ll start getting cold tomorrow.
Was this what he had meant?
Kyle was hardly a weather service, yet for a coincidence, his prediction had been unnervingly precise.
Ian placed his palm against the fogged glass.
Clatter.
A gust of cold wind rattled the window as though applauding him.
“You’re awake.”
Just as his palm began to sting from the cold, Ed entered after knocking.
The elderly butler was, as always, impeccably dressed.
He placed the tray in his hands on the table before speaking in his usual gentle tone.
“Now that Lord Ian has arrived and the expedition is over, the land is covered in snow once again. The weather in the Grand Duke’s domain is far harsher than in Rox.”
The wording made it sound almost as though the weather itself changed according to circumstances.
At the absurd implication, Ian stepped away from the window and approached the table.
Unlike usual, an appetizing plate of grilled meat sat there.
It was covered in a glossy sauce and looked somewhat like chicken.
The thin stew that had barely contained anything worth chewing was nowhere to be seen.
“The master ordered us to pay particular attention to your meals. Your throat has healed considerably, so you should now be able to swallow soft meat.”
Ian had always preferred meat above nearly everything else.
Faced with his first proper meal in quite some time, he sat down.
A knife and fork were placed before him.
Naturally, they would be taken away again once he finished eating, but Ian had no particular attachment to them.
He pressed his fork into the meat.
It came apart with barely any resistance.
When he placed a piece in his mouth, the rich sauce blended with the juices of the meat and spread warmly across his tongue.
Ed took a small step backward and let out a quiet chuckle as he watched Ian handle his utensils with an enthusiasm entirely unlike the mechanical way he usually ate.
So he wasn’t a picky eater.
Apparently, the meals they had been serving until now simply had not suited his tastes…
“…Are you not eating any more?”
Or so Ed had thought.
Apparently, that was not the problem either.
Despite how eagerly Ian had moved his fork at first, he ate only about five pieces before setting his utensils down.
Surprised by the fork now resting on the table—the unmistakable signal that the meal was over—Ed asked the question.
Ian slowly nodded.
“If the food does not suit your palate, please tell me.”
This time, Ian immediately shook his head.
The way he silently stared at the considerable amount of meat still remaining made it clear that he did not dislike the food either.
But with Ian unable to speak, Ed had no way to ask for a more specific explanation.
He waited another moment before approaching the table.
If Ian did not intend to eat any more, there was no reason to force him.
“There will be a procession in a few days.”
Ed spoke casually as he returned the plate to the tray.
Ian’s gaze followed him.
His expression clearly said that he had no idea what Ed meant.
After collecting the knife as well, Ed decided to explain more directly.
“You will ride a horse and show yourself in person to the Shertian people who live here.”