MPNS Ch 12

Chapter 12

Nikiel’s nightclothes were unusually skirt-shaped, though it wasn’t as if all men in this world wore such garments—rather, it seemed they were mostly worn by young boys or the elderly.

There were separate nightclothes for adult men, but since the Kingdom of Ossinis was a place that placed heavy sexual expectations on men, they would often wear thin fabrics that naturally displayed their upper-body muscles, along with tightly fitted silk trousers or clinging shorts, even while sleeping, to please their wives or lovers.

However, after Nikiel lost consciousness, it seemed they had dressed him in a long muslin nightgown, chosen purely for comfort.

Clad in sleepwear entirely devoted to practicality, Nikiel remained oblivious to the fact that, due to the skirt riding up, his pale thighs were completely exposed.

“The Duke must have noticed as well, but there is a sofa over there.”

“…Such shamelessness.”

“What?”

He had merely suggested the sofa, yet was met with accusations of shamelessness. He couldn’t make sense of it.

Was this truly something one should curse at a man who had just risen from his sickbed for? Perhaps sending Paul away had been a mistake. Now that they were alone, Raymond had discarded his usual gentle façade and was glaring at Nikiel with a frighteningly severe expression.

“Your Highness, are you even aware that you are of royal blood?”

He asked in exasperation, and Raymond’s brows furrowed—a graceful movement that only accentuated his good looks.

Is being handsome all that matters? Kids these days are so rude.

Though “kids these days” wasn’t an accurate phrase—since they weren’t even born in the same era—Nikiel nonetheless found Raymond displeasing.

Raymond looked at him with an expression bordering on contempt, the tips of his ears faintly red, as though he couldn’t hide how riled he was.

“Could you at least compose your attire properly? It seems I am not the only one lacking awareness of royal dignity here.”

“You barged into my bedchamber first, Duke. And I’m the patient here.”

“Yes, and you appear quite healthy to me.”

As they exchanged brief words, Raymond somehow managed to put on a flawless smile again.

He doesn’t even stick to one tone, tch. Annoyed, Nikiel stood and moved toward the sofa to sit first.

“Sit, if you like.”

He hadn’t even finished speaking when Raymond strode over on long legs and sat down first. The urge to hit him flared strongly.

While Yullan had also shown him a certain displeasure, Raymond’s attitude felt somehow different. His manner was courteous, his tone mild, yet the contempt he held toward Nikiel was palpable.

And honestly, it wasn’t incomprehensible.

The Kingdom of Ossinis did not have a weak monarchy. However, the four houses that had once defeated the Black Dragon carried formidable influence.

To manage this, the former kings had leveraged the royal line’s platinum hair and blue eyes to command the four houses—

A single royal for each generation, meant to control the cursed bloodlines born into those houses, ensuring their loyalty to the throne despite their great power.

Thus, though sworn to obedience, the four houses could hardly harbor fond feelings toward royalty.

Even so, Nikiel had done nothing personally to warrant Raymond’s hostility.

…Or had he? Had he done something to him in the past?

Nikiel rolled his eyes about before opening his mouth.

“Well, ever since I suffered that fever, my old memories have been rather hazy… Did I perhaps do something to offend you, Duke?”

At that, Raymond briefly wore a truly contemptuous expression before smoothing it over with a smile and replying:

“Why do you ask such a thing? As far as I recall, Your Highness and I share only fond memories.”

“Then why…”

“However, seeing Your Highness so thoroughly forget the words you once spoke to me last winter… I confess, it is somewhat disheartening.”

…You literally just said we shared only fond memories. Nikiel felt wronged, staring at Raymond’s gentle smile.

“Well… I wouldn’t be asking if I remembered, would I? What on earth did I do to you?”

“You shouted, ‘Raymond’s cock is flaccid!’ in the middle of a royal banquet, then grabbed hold of me and collapsed.”

“Uh… I did that…?”

“Thanks to that, I gained the infamous reputation among gossips of being unable to satisfy the prince, driving him to drunken antics in the heart of the banquet.”

“That… that was my fault. I apologize.”

“There were countless other incidents scattered like sand upon the shore, yet it seems Your Highness remembers none of them. And yet, they are all memories we share.”

How could he possibly remember? Nikiel bit his lip, wearing an expression of mute helplessness.

Raymond regarded him for a moment, then smiled faintly. Though his lips curved upward, the aura he exuded was chilling.

“…Are you acting right now, or what?”

“What was that, Your Highness? I didn’t quite hear.”

“Nothing. I was merely thinking how much easier you are to attend upon now that your mind is so clouded.”

What is that supposed to mean? He’d gone 180 degrees only to spin another 180 back to the same place. Nikiel was dumbfounded by Raymond’s words.

Yet, given his history of pointing at the man’s groin during a banquet and shouting “flaccid!”, Nikiel had no grounds to accuse him of insolence.

Though the fault wasn’t his own, he still inhabited the same body, so Nikiel decided to play it off awkwardly.

“Anyway, why exactly have you come all the way to the prince’s quarters to visit me?”

“Did the Grand Duke of Balt not advise you to refrain from attending the monster subjugation tournament?”

Huh? Now that was a new line of questioning.

Nikiel instinctively moved to roll his eyes but restrained himself. Just then, Paul entered with a tea tray and some light refreshments.

The two men fell silent while Paul placed the teacups on the table, then stood quietly with the silver tray in hand.

“Paul? Why are you standing there? Wait outside.”

“But, Your Highness—”

“I said the Duke and I have matters to discuss.”

When Nikiel gave him an incredulous look for lingering, Paul fidgeted uncertainly before finally leaving the chamber.

Raymond watched him out of the corner of his eye, then turned back to Nikiel with a faintly twisted smile.

“You’ve yet to abandon your lecherous tendencies, I see, Your Highness.”

“…What?”

“To wish to be left alone with a potential spouse candidate.”

“Excuse me, what?”

Even with Nikiel’s Korean habit of prefacing questions with “Excuse me,” Raymond merely sipped his tea.

Not knowing the culture of this world, Nikiel couldn’t fathom what was wrong with two men remaining alone together.

Yet Raymond was one of Nikiel’s potential suitors—whether Nikiel desired him or not.

Annoyance suddenly welled up in Nikiel. Waking up in this world after death was outrageous enough, but now he was being forced into marrying a man?

And to make matters worse, every single candidate was built like a mountain. The blow to his already lagging sense of masculinity was almost insulting; the sheer disparity in stature left him beyond irritation, bordering disbelief.

Was this truly reality? Suppressing the vein throbbing at his temple, Nikiel spoke.

“Enough. Just tell me the reason Your Grace came all the way to the prince’s palace. We’ve stalled long enough.”

“…How did you answer when the Grand Duke of Balt advised you not to attend the subjugation tournament?”

“I said I’d refrain, thinking I’d only be a burden if I went.”

At Nikiel’s words, Raymond seemed to contemplate something before setting his teacup down on the table.

His hands were exceptionally large, yet the fingers holding the cup were long and straight, exuding elegance. He gazed at Nikiel for a moment, then spoke.

“I would like you to retract that vow.”

Retract it? Did that mean he was asking Nikiel to participate in the tournament after all?

Nikiel tilted his head in confusion. Yullan’s reason for asking him to avoid the tournament had been perfectly clear:

It was obvious Nikiel would be a burden.

His body was in the worst possible condition—so frail it was hard to comprehend how he’d managed to live so licentiously in the first place.

If he entered a monster-infested hunting ground like that, he’d only end up being hunted himself.

Should Nikiel die, the royal family would not only be unable to escape accountability but also fail to resolve the so-called curse.

Among the current royals, Nikiel alone bore platinum hair and blue eyes.

It was only natural they wanted to prevent disaster preemptively.

To be told to reverse that decision now…

“And why is that?”

Nikiel covered his mouth with his teacup as he asked. Raymond met his gaze and replied:

“A divine oracle will soon descend.”

An oracle?

Come to think of it, this was a land governed by the gods. The chief deity, Solius, was the sun god, who declared there would be no place in Ossinis untouched by sunlight, leading to the construction of shrines throughout the land.

Before the four heroes set out to defeat the Black Dragon, they had hastily built a temporary shrine to Solius, vowing that if they returned victorious, they would erect a temple of pure crystalline limestone as an offering—pledging five cows, three sheep, and two casks of wine as part of the ritual.

They had indeed returned victorious, and the temples were completed the following year, erected across all of Ossinis.

Having banished darkness and brought daylight to the land, the people of Ossinis revered Solius with fervent devotion.

And now, merely because an oracle was about to descend, they intended to drag Nikiel into the subjugation tournament?