Damn it, but the sa went for the other guy.
His voice trembled as he lowered his tone.
"Five years ago… That… Blue Atrium…"
They had already recognized each other. Rick gave up on speaking in circles.
"So, you're the earl’s errand boy. What are you sneaking around for at this hour, scurrying like a rat? You’ve co quite a long way from the castle."
"A rat? That’s my line! After you ssed everything up, you were explicitly told not to set foot in Blue Atrium ever again. I even sent you a letter—"
"Never saw any letter. I don’t exactly have an address where I can sit around waiting for mail."
"…Hah."
"Nothing's happened in the past five years anyway. Once I finish up here today, I’ll be heading back to the capital. Don’t bother worrying about ."
"The capital?"
It had just been a throwaway remark to end the conversation, but the errand boy latched onto it.
"You, you’ve settled in the capital now? Judging by your clothes, you don’t seem to be here as a soldier. Are you running errands?"
"I don’t need to tell you that."
"Don’t tell you decided to work under the prince?"
That particular jab hit its mark, slicing right into Rick’s chest. His anger flared.
He barely managed to hold his tongue, but the raw fury in his eyes as he glared at the errand boy was unmistakable.
And yet, for so reason…
The errand boy curled his lips like he’d just discovered a gemstone.
"Whatever brought you here, haha, it seems you started hating the prince after that day five years ago."
"That doesn’t an I love you instead."
"Don’t say disgusting things! That’s all I needed to know. You do whatever it takes to survive. That’s all that matters."
"What exactly are you getting at?"
"Nothing grand. Just borrowing a bit of your ti."
The errand boy glanced around to ensure there were no eavesdroppers before leading Rick deeper into the shadows.
The ssage he delivered was simple.
"There are still monsters left in Blue Atrium. Tomorrow, His Highness will be asked to eliminate the last one."
"Still left? The reports said everything was taken care of."
"There’s one monster trapped in the northwestern sapphire mine. The entrance collapsed, so it’s been stuck in there, slowly starving to death."
"Wouldn’t it be fine to just leave it?"
"But can you guarantee the monster won’t break free? It’d be better to take this chance and have the experts put it down for good, don’t you think?"
At a glance, it didn’t seem like a bad idea.
But Rick knew that wasn’t the whole story.
Watching the errand boy’s twisted grin, he spoke the obvious truth.
"The earl really doesn’t want Prince Tristan inheriting Blue Atrium, does he?"
"Would you? If soone took what was rightfully yours? And on top of that, he’s being pressured to retire early and live as a useless old man, forced to watch the new lord’s reign unfold."
"So why are you here? Looking to hire soone to push His Highness off a cliff in the middle of the hunt?"
"Careful with that kind of talk."
Yet the errand boy’s tone remained completely composed, as if he wasn’t surprised by the accusation at all.
"I just want to make sure that if His Highness hesitates to take action, soone is there to encourage him."
"Encourage?"
"That’s right. ‘We must eliminate the monster in the mine.’ ‘His Highness should achieve rits equal to a young duke.’ ‘He is more than capable of handling this alone.’ You get the idea."
"…I see what you an."
Provoke Tristan. Stoke his pride.
Make sure he walks straight into the danger himself.
"You didn’t set any traps in the mine, did you?"
"Hey now! That’s a scary thing to suggest, Layson. Ah, but I suppose you’ve changed your na?"
"I have. But did you prepare anything in advance?"
"Of course not! There are dangerous spots here and there, but I’ll let you know about them in advance. Just make sure His Highness never steps foot in those places, alright? Son of Leira."
"…My na is Rick now."
"Good na. Anyway, if you do this well, the earl will reward you handsoly."
"If sothing happens to Prince Tristan, the land still won’t go to the earl’s bloodline."
"That’s not what this is about. Besides, let’s be honest—you hate both the royal family and House Redfield, don’t you? Thanks to this ridiculous ga of propping up the prince, you ended up exiled on that island."
"…"
The word island dragged Rick back five years.
A mission in disputed waters—one he couldn’t walk away from because his fellow rcenaries had been dragged into it.
Rick, ensnared by the Earl of Redfield’s sches, had been trapped on a remote island the day of his trial, staring blankly at the sea.
How many tis had he thought about throwing himself into those cold waters?
He had taken the hand of the man his mother hated the most… only to gain nothing in return.
As Rick’s face twisted at the mory, the errand boy smirked.
"Hah, I was wondering which soldier I could rope in, but you saved the trouble. Looks like we can talk. What brought you here anyway? Gotten close to the prince?"
"I simply caught his eye while working."
"Sa as ever. But soon, you won’t need to work so diligently. If you accept this offer, the earl will—"
The errand boy pulled out a piece of paper and began talking in earnest. Of course, everything was frad not as hurting Prince Tristan but supporting him.
"Here, your advance paynt. You won’t need it imdiately, but take it."
"I haven’t agreed to anything yet."
"Oh? And after listening to everything, you’re just going to walk away?"
"You did say this was just about supporting His Highness."
"…Hah!"
The errand boy chuckled knowingly, completely unbothered.
It was as if he already knew how this conversation would end.
"The lord’s reward won’t just be money, you know."
Rick’s chest tightened.
It felt like soone had gripped his heart. Instinctively, the word father filled his mind, and the fact that he’d even considered it made him feel sick.
"That bastard would never accept as his son now."
But still, if—just if—this wasn’t just empty words, if he were actually granted a proper position or a business of his own…
Maybe then, he’d have a real chance to stand by her side—
And just as that thought crossed his mind, the errand boy shattered his expectations with an offer more repulsive and enticing than anything else.
"Leira’s father is still alive in Blue Atrium. Don’t you want to see him?"
***
Morning ca with a skull-splitting headache.
"Urgh…"
When he reached out beside him, instead of the familiar bottle of lemon water, his fingers brushed against an unfamiliar liquor bottle.
Tristan pressed his throbbing temples and looked up. Instead of his usual ceiling, he saw the tightly sealed roof of a commander’s tent.
"Oh. Right. The encampnt. And the reason I’m here…"
His mories slowly pieced themselves together.
Blue Atrium. The monsters. His father’s test. That insufferable earl. That aggravating Rick Ray. That damn Arthur.
And—
"Tristan Winter Albion, you absolute piece of garbage…"
The reason he had drowned himself in alcohol ca rushing back, stabbing at his conscience.
That night, two months ago.
After the hunting competition.
Tristan had taken Dori to a place he cherished from childhood. A simple lake, far from extravagant—a place Percival would have laughed at him for calling a "date spot."
But that night, for so reason, Tristan needed to show it to her. And when she had looked around in wonder and whispered that it was beautiful…
Everything had lined up too perfectly.
A beloved place. A perfect fiancée. A mont free from interruptions.
Like a well-oiled clockwork piece, Tristan had lost control of himself.
…Not that he had an excuse.
At the last mont, just as he had leaned in, his lips nearly brushing hers—
She had asked him a devastating question.
"Your Highness… do you have even the slightest feelings for ?"
And his damn lips had dood him.
"Of course not."
Even now, the mory made his face burn.
Even a ten-year-old boy would know better than to say sothing like that.
And now, as Rick’s words from last night crept in, a new, unbearable hunger took hold of his chest.
"Doris Redfield is a good fiancée. But does she love ?"
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