MPNS Ch 73

Chapter 73

He had been in the state of a maddened stag, so it was entirely possible that he had mindlessly eaten some poisonous mushrooms growing in the forest. Since Nikiel’s holy power allowed him to awaken cleanly without any physical aftereffects from the frenzy, the only reasonable explanation for his disappearance was that he had ingested poisonous mushrooms.

In any case, because he was absent, it was only right that Yullan—Commander of the Black Thorn Knights—went to receive the High Priest in his stead. Muttering inwardly that it was always one nuisance or another, Yullan left his office and made his way toward the royal sanctuary.

And that was when he saw a platinum-blond figure loitering around. Yullan felt a flicker of warmth before he could stop himself, and because he didn’t know what that feeling was, he suppressed it.

His chest felt strangely light, but the sensation was unfamiliar, so he pushed it aside. Instead, he approached with a composed, rigid expression.

“Done with today’s sword practice and now wandering around?”

“Ugh—gah! Did you not see me almost scream, my lord?”

Nikiel had nearly shrieked, but barely held it back. He shot Yullan a glare while whispering the rest under his breath. Because Yullan stood behind him, a faint shadow fell across Nikiel’s face. Their height difference was barely half a hand, yet the difference in shoulder width and build was significant.

Still eyeing the suddenly appearing Yullan, Nikiel retorted,

“Do not even think of scolding me about practice. I am extremely diligent. If you don’t believe me, you may ask the attendants of the Prince’s Palace.”

Yullan’s lips curved faintly upward. Unfortunately, Nikiel didn’t see it.

“So you’re confident. Very well. I will personally supervise Your Highness’ training this evening.”

“…No, I’m perfectly satisfied with Allewin.”

The situation became difficult instantly. Allewin was already an excellent teacher. Yullan was not someone who ever handled instruction half-heartedly, but emotionally it was far easier to be taught by Allewin.

Allewin had had absolutely no expectations of Nikiel, which meant he praised Nikiel sincerely for simply holding a sword. Apparently, he had assumed Nikiel’s competence would be abysmal, and though that irritated Nikiel a little, the praise still felt good. Whenever Allewin told him he was doing well—that even the basics looked impressive—it fully satisfied Nikiel’s need for achievement.

But Yullan ignored Nikiel completely.

“My schedule is busy today, so please come to the training grounds after dinner.”

“No, I said I was going with Aller—”

“More importantly, what brings Your Highness here?”

Wow, he really just ignores people.

Nikiel was speechless, but arguing further would only drag him deeper into Yullan’s pace, so he answered meekly.

“I simply heard people from the sanctuary had arrived, so I was curious. They say the Iron Order came as well…”

“…I see.”

Yullan said nothing more, yet Nikiel felt the man’s mood sinking.

…Why is he suddenly irritated? He couldn’t understand it. Were wolf-kin beasts always this temperamental? Tilting his head slightly, he cleared his throat to dispel the awkward air.

Yullan finally spoke again, as if concluding some thought.

“The High Priest is a man bound to religious office. Personal romance is forbidden to him.”

“What is that supposed to—”

Nikiel stopped mid-sentence, irritation spiking.

Was Yullan seriously implying Nikiel had come to flirt with the High Priest?

Rubbing his forehead, he exhaled sharply and bit out:

“Whether the High Priest falls in love or rolls in the dirt, what does that have to do with me? And frankly, my lord, you would do well to correct your own conduct first.”

One of Yullan’s brows lifted slightly. He looked as if to ask what that was supposed to mean. Nikiel met Yullan’s molten-gold eyes—sharp as sunlight glittering off a riverbank—and answered clearly:

“Even if there is a supposed agreement beneath the surface about our engagement, Your Grace has no feelings for me, and I do not consider you a prospective spouse. So why do you police my behavior? You are not my older brother, nor my father, and certainly not my spouse. For someone who is nothing to me, you seem excessively invested in my business.”

“….”

Yullan’s face froze instantly.

Nikiel had expected him to snap back, so the silence caught him off guard—but it also felt refreshing. Since he’d already opened his mouth, he might as well hammer the nail all the way in.

“For two people who mean nothing to each other, ignoring one another would be far healthier. Meddling like this cannot be good for Your Grace’s mental wellbeing…”

“Enough.”

His voice was edged with fury. Nikiel exhaled softly and closed his mouth.

So he can get angry.

Obeying Yullan’s clear demand, Nikiel fell silent. Yullan’s jaw was clenched so tightly that the muscles stood out sharply. The pressure radiating off him was intense; a cold beastly pheromone swept past Nikiel’s nose.

It wasn’t exactly killing intent, but a suffocating, rippling force that made him instinctively want to step back. He held his ground anyway—if nothing else, out of sheer stubborn pride.

Then Yullan suddenly let out a short laugh.

Bitter or not, Yullan almost never smiled like that—lips curved with a sharp, elegant arc—so Nikiel’s gaze lingered on his face.

The lifted line of his mouth breathed life into features carved with meticulous precision, yet the golden eyes beneath were dripping with flame. What flickered across his face wasn’t a true smile but a cutting sneer. Nikiel could recognize Yullan was angry, but he couldn’t decipher anything deeper.

“So that’s it? Your refined tastes have never once considered a mutt like me as a marriage partner?”

“That’s not what I—”

That wasn’t what Nikiel meant at all.

He meant: You disliked me first, so I learned not to care. Since neither of us has any interest, wouldn’t it be easier to just coexist peacefully?

He had never seriously considered the possibility of marrying a man. But if fate insisted on dragging him down some disastrous path, and he truly ended up forced into such a match, the one man he was certain would never want him was Yullan.

The same went for Raymond.

Nikiel did not realize that he had a habit of treating with hostility the very people he was drawn to.

His life philosophy—a healthy mind in a healthy body—had kept him focused solely on research and physical training, leaving him unaware that love could be messy, confusing, overwhelming, or passionate.

Cutting off Nikiel’s attempt to clarify, Yullan growled:

“All I hear is that the stablehand is acceptable, but I’m not.”

Now Nikiel was truly annoyed.

“Fine! Go ahead and think that. Even if I slept with every person in this kingdom, I would never come asking you for anything, so rest assured. Isn’t that what you wanted?! I don’t understand why you’re even angry!”

“….”

Yullan looked down at him with a darkened gaze, then turned and spoke flatly:

“You should return. I will see you at sword practice.”

Eat dirt, why don’t you!

Nikiel raised a middle finger at Yullan’s back. And return? Says who? He had a reason for coming here. Normally he would’ve avoided the argument and walked away, but today he was annoyed enough to refuse to back down.

He strode forward and overtook Yullan.

“You think I come and go at your command? Mind your own business and stay in your own lane.”

“…Ha.”

Yullan sighed behind him, sounding equal parts exasperated and astonished, but Nikiel kept walking.

A member of the royal family visiting a sanctuary built for royalty—Yullan, no matter how high his rank, had no grounds to stop him.

And so the two entered the sanctuary. To be honest, Nikiel half-expected Yullan to simply throw him over a shoulder and haul him back to the palace, but Yullan said nothing and merely followed at a slow pace.

Benedict, who had stepped out briefly on an errand from Yullan, paused in surprise when he saw the two approaching together. They looked like an adorable, feisty little puppy stomping forward angrily, with a large, intimidating hound following close behind.

Since when do those two walk together?

He hadn’t been told Nikiel would be accompanying Yullan, so he was momentarily confused. Quickly regaining composure, Benedict fell in behind Yullan and offered Nikiel a polite greeting.

“Greetings, Your Highness. May Solius’ grace shine directly above your head on this pleasant afternoon.”

With his right hand pressed to his left chest, he added a customary Osinis afternoon blessing.

Nikiel turned to him and replied in an icy tone,

“Do I look pleased to you?”

“Well, that is…”

“Correct. I am delighted—delighted to death. My superior and subordinate alike seem determined to be paragons of correctness. Truly, the future of Osinis is blindingly bright.”

Nikiel snapped irritably.

He normally went with the flow, calm as water, but the truth was: he was a veteran of harsh military hierarchy and the research labs—both environments built on relentless hazing.

Private Kim, are you breathing? Do privates even get to breathe? Wow, the army has gotten soft. So, enjoying life? How does it feel to breathe as a private? Must be nice to freeload.

He had survived that only to enter graduate school—the ultimate playground of condescending elders—so knowing how to verbally tear someone down was practically a survival skill.

Annoyed now, that hidden talent resurfaced.

Benedict, having done nothing but exist in the wrong place at the wrong time, floundered helplessly. Nikiel snorted and continued walking.

By then, the three had reached the marble courtyard, where the knights in white armor stood assembled in formation.