"This isn't a place for the likes of you."
"Scram."
Ptui. Someone spat right next to Khalid’s head. Watching the gatekeepers retreat back inside, Khalid pushed himself up, his body throbbing with dull pain. Just one last time—just once would be enough. He wanted to see Nox.
If his feelings had been too much, if his love had been a burden that led to his exile, he was prepared to vanish quietly. But before that, he needed one final glimpse. Even from a distance, it would be enough.
He dragged his aching limbs around the perimeter of the estate’s outer wall. If he followed it to the right and turned the corner, the garden adjoining the Young Master’s suite would come into view.
‘Young Master...!’
And there, in that very garden, Nox was standing. His hair shimmered with a green luster under the sunlight; his back was as straight as ever. My cruel Young Master, who hasn't changed a bit even though I’m gone. Khalid gripped the iron bars set into the low stone wall and called out. Or rather, he tried to.
“……”
He would have, if not for the small figure suddenly scurrying toward Nox.
"Young Master! I brought what you asked for!"
"I see."
It seemed Nox had already found a replacement. The boy was plain, with brown hair and freckles—not even remotely handsome by any standard—yet Nox accepted the item and stroked the boy’s head just as he used to do for Khalid.
"Well done."
"Yes, sir..."
The young servant seemed to flush slightly. Watching them, Khalid felt something deep inside his chest crack and shatter.
He had been subjected to such misery simply for loving his master. And now, the moment he was cast out, a boy of a similar age had taken his place. Looking at that boy’s face, Khalid realized just how much he had loved Nox—and how transparently he must have shown it.
His hands shook against the iron bars. He wanted to rip the throat out of the boy standing beside Nox; he wanted to snap the hands that reached out to touch his master. That is my place. Khalid’s place, and no one else's.
But he had been driven from that spot by Nox’s own hand. How... how could you do this? How can you fill my space so easily after throwing me away? How?
Khalid began to pant. Nausea surged in his throat. Still clutching the bars, he slumped down and retched repeatedly. It felt as if his stomach were shriveling into nothing.
After heaving up bitter bile, Khalid looked at Nox and the young servant one last time. His eyes widened.
Nox was smiling at the boy. It was the same smile he used to give Khalid. The same way he used to look at him. Khalid gripped the bars with white-knuckled intensity. So... it didn't actually matter who was standing there, did it?
"...It didn't have to be me?"
Something began to seethe and boil deep in his gut. Khalid didn't know the name for this sensation; it was an emotion he had never experienced in his life. His upper abdomen burned. Clutching his stomach, he watched them, staring until the two of them disappeared from the garden.
He watched until Nox led the young servant back inside the residence. Khalid sat there like a fool until they were gone, then finally staggered to his feet. He began to walk with a halting gait. Fortunately, the wounds on his back didn't seem to have reopened, but the areas where the knights had kicked him throbbed.
"Young Master... You really are a cruel person."
Muttering words that could no longer reach their target, he headed back toward the inn where he was temporarily staying. All the strength had left his body.
Upon returning to the inn, Khalid collapsed against the door. The image of Nox and that servant wouldn't leave his mind. He pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face. His hands wouldn't stop shaking. He had thought that seeing Nox’s face one last time, even from afar, would satisfy him. Instead, his insides felt like they were on fire.
"...Why."
Why, how, for what reason? Young Master, how could you do this to me? Before he knew it, a long, serpentine resentment had coiled itself around his heart. Khalid began to scratch at his knees as tears fat as raindrops fell from his eyes.
"How can you smile so effortlessly?"
When I feel like I'm dying. Khalid couldn't suppress his sobs; a desperate cry filled the room. How can you throw me away and act like nothing happened? If you were going to take everything from me, you should have taken my life too.
But the person intended to hear that scream was no longer before him. Khalid cried until he could cry no more, eventually collapsing onto the floor. The tears still wouldn't stop. His days began to be paved with resentment, sinking him into a deep abyss from which there was no return.
The next day, Khalid stepped out to pay the innkeeper, clutching the pouch of money Maeta had given him. It was officially his severance pay, but Maeta must have added extra, as the pouch felt heavy. Khalid walked briskly, intending to exchange his gold coins for common copper and silver.
‘I need to find another job before I spend all of this...’
In truth, the amount of gold was enough to live comfortably for two years, but Khalid wanted to find work immediately. Ideally, he wanted to enter another noble household.
‘Then... maybe I’ll be able to see the Young Master occasionally.’
Even though he had fallen asleep the night before cursing the man, Nox was still the only thing occupying Khalid’s mind. He thought of the letter of recommendation folded neatly inside the pouch with the gold.
No matter how much he resented or hated him, the name Nox Rainerio was etched into his soul and wouldn't budge.
It happened as he turned into an alleyway. Several figures came sauntering toward him—shoulders hunched, clothes filthy. Khalid flinched and stopped in his tracks at the sight of their dark, predatory eyes.
Three men slowly surrounded the boy. Khalid took a wary step back, watching them.
"Looks like he knows what's up," one of them chuckled, beckoning with a finger. "Hand over everything you’ve got and beat it."
“……”
Khalid swallowed hard. They were all adults. Two were thin, as if they hadn't eaten well, but the third was more than twice his size. Khalid retreated slowly, but another man was already standing behind him, blocking his path.
"You really want to do this the hard way?"
They were brandishing rusted knives. Realizing he couldn't win against them, the young Khalid unfastened the pouch from his waist. It was a fortune, but he believed he could find a job at another noble house soon enough. The bandits snickered as they saw him comply. Khalid kept a close watch on them, opening the pouch slightly to try and sneak the letter of recommendation out.
"Freeze."
“……!”
Khalid’s hand jerked to a halt. One of the thugs pointed a knife and said, "Don't touch a thing. Just hand it over."
"N-no. You can take the money, I don't care, but not this. It... it's not even worth anything to you."
Khalid quickly tucked the letter into his tunic and tossed the money pouch onto the ground. But the bandits exchanged a glance and immediately lunged at him. Khalid tried to run, but the man blocking the rear prevented him from escaping the alley.
"Stay still!"
"Agh!"
A bandit twisted Khalid’s arm. Khalid struggled. He had been strong for his age, but he was no match for three grown men. They pinned him down and began searching him.
"What's this? Just a scrap of paper?"
"Yes, yes. So please, just let me have that..."
The illiterate thugs had no way of knowing the value of a letter of recommendation. Khalid looked up at them imploringly. To live in that world again, to be part of high society once more, he desperately needed that letter.
No household would hire a servant without a recommendation. No matter how good-looking he was, any house that hired someone based on looks alone wasn't a house worth serving. He needed the official letter written by House Rainerio.
‘I have to go somewhere close enough to see the Young Master...’
To do that, he had to enter a household that was at least of a Count’s rank. To Khalid, this letter was an indispensable treasure. But then—a sharp rip echoed through the alley. Khalid’s eyes widened.
"Don't know what it is, but it's useless to us."
"No! Stop it!"
Khalid thrashed, both arms pinned by the man behind him. He surged forward toward the man who was tearing the letter.
"Whoa—hey!"
The force of the boy’s sudden explosion was so great that the thin man holding his arms was thrown to the ground. Khalid used the opening to yank his arms free and reached for the shredded pieces of the letter.
THWACK!
But the man next to him was faster. He delivered a heavy kick to Khalid’s ribs, sending the boy flying until he hit the alley wall with a sickening thud.