MTO C85

Chapter 85

 

Chirp, chirp.

The morning song of birds roused Kaidan from his sleep. His gaze fell on the familiar pattern of the ceiling above him, yet for a while, he lay completely still, unmoving. His heart still pounded wildly in his chest, and a dull ache lingered there.

Had it been a dream?

The realization struck, and he suddenly bolted upright. The sheets around his lower body felt unpleasantly damp. With trembling hands, he flung the blanket aside.

No—surely not. It couldn’t be. It was impossible…

But when Kaidan forced himself to look, silence swallowed the room.

Outside, the birds still sang with peaceful indifference, but before his eyes spread a new kind of waking nightmare.

From the early hours, the Eglence Order of Knights was in motion. All were occupied with the massive reconstruction of the town square that had burned to ashes during the fire. They hauled relief supplies onto carts, loaded the building materials pre-purchased by the ducal house, and prepared to depart for the site.

Yet despite the presence of dozens of men assembled in the courtyard, an odd stillness hung over the air. Aside from the occasional clatter of armor or the whinnying of horses, not a sound broke the quiet. It was the liveliest hour of the day, and yet the most energetic men in the entire castle were as silent as monks in a cloister.

Their motions were diligent but wordless. No one dared exchange even light banter, though their darting eyes spoke volumes.

What’s wrong with His Grace this morning?

Did he and Sir Jared quarrel again?

Whoever’s fault it is, beg his pardon quick before you’re dead.

They worked feverishly, all pretending to ignore the towering figure of the Duke standing at the courtyard’s center. Yet every knight’s attention was firmly fixed upon him. The Duke of Eglence stood emanating such suffocating tension one might think he was about to march into battle. Though spring had warmed the air, icy wind seemed to whirl around him alone.

The knights shuddered and watched him from the corners of their eyes, but Kaidan was oblivious to them. He could barely focus on anything at all since the shocking incident that morning.

Of all people, why did that man have to appear in his dream…

Kaidan had spent long years on the battlefield, where he had learned better than anyone how filthy and bestial men could be. Even when drenched in the blood of monsters, soldiers were capable of rousing lust. He’d heard enough tales from comrades to know that if a man didn’t relieve himself regularly, he risked waking to… unfortunate situations.

But that, he always thought, applied to others—not to him.

When he was younger, fearing the same humiliation that plagued his peers, he had occasionally tended to it himself. But after maturity came, he lived with the restraint of a devout monk. His desires were never strong, and indulging them only left him disgusted with himself.

He had always loathed men who gave in to their urges anywhere, regardless of time or place. That revulsion deepened when he learned that his father had died of venereal disease.

He had sworn then to live the rest of his life alone. He did not crave offspring as other nobles did. Lawrence’s nagging to marry and produce an heir had grown incessant, but Kaidan reasoned that if the time ever came, he could adopt a child. The castle already sheltered seven orphans, after all.

And yet… what on earth had possessed him this morning?

To dream such a shameful dream about the saint, and worse—to commit such an unspeakable mistake—was unbearable.

Had a life of peace made both his spirit and his body complacent, reacting in strange new ways? Or was it his dead father’s curse coming to haunt him?

Kaidan grimaced unconsciously. Several laborers passing by noticed, gasping in terror and stumbling as though struck.

“Brother Kaidan!”

The voice that rang clear through the courtyard was salvation to the workers—but a death sentence to Kaidan. He paled and turned slowly.

Michel was descending the grand staircase with the children in tow.

The moment Kaidan’s eyes met him, his heart plummeted. Draped in flowing robes, Michel ran toward him, looking for an instant like a heavenly being—an angel come to deliver divine punishment.

By the time Kaidan gathered his wits, Michel had already stopped right before him. It was the first time he’d seen him dressed again in pure white since the disaster relief effort. Kaidan barely managed to steady his voice.

“Why are you dressed like that?”

“Oh, this? Lawrence insisted I wear it since I’m going out to the town.”

Michel lifted his hem, which brushed the ground, and the children giggled as they helped hold it up. Just looking at them was enough to guess how much effort Lawrence must have spent dressing him.

Then Kaidan processed what he’d just said.

“Going out to the town?”

“Yes. The square, right? I’m coming along. I want to see that everyone’s doing all right.”

“You’re bringing the children too?”

“They were getting restless being cooped up in the castle. It’ll do them good. These are all the Valois orphanage children—will they behave when we’re outside, everyone?”

“Yes!”

The children chorused loudly, and Michel smiled proudly at them before glancing back up at Kaidan.

Kaidan wavered. If Michel joined them in the square, the townsfolk would surely rejoice. Many had found comfort through him during the fire. The children wouldn’t be allowed near the reconstruction site itself, so the risk was minimal. There was no sensible reason to deny them.

And yet… he hesitated. After what had happened that morning, he wasn’t certain it was safe to let the man near him.

Perhaps it was the spring heat, but his palms felt damp, and the rhythmic pounding of his heart grew almost painful. The white attire made Michel’s skin look even paler, almost luminous.

If he looked at him any longer, something strange would overtake him—so Kaidan tore his gaze away. The children gazed up with imploring faces, their eyes wide with expectation.

“Please, let us gooo!”

At that, he could resist no longer. Refusing because of a dream would be absurd—a dream was only a dream.

Kaidan nodded stiffly. The children cheered, bouncing in place.

“I’ll have a carriage prepared.”

“Thank you! Everyone, say it properly!”

“Thank you, Sir!”

Kaidan scarcely returned their bow before turning to escape. He needed air. But right then, a child with pink hair darted in front of him.

“Ah, Leon! Don’t run off like that—!”

Michel hurried forward to catch the boy, but his long hem snagged beneath his foot, and he pitched forward helplessly.

Kaidan reacted on instinct, catching him before he fell. In an instant, the face he’d been avoiding all morning was inches from his own.

“Th-thank you.”

Michel’s eyes were wide in surprise—his lips, tinged faintly red, parted slightly as he spoke. That single sight threw Kaidan back into the memory of his dream.

Thank you.

Abruptly, he shoved Michel away.

“Ah!”

“Headmaster!”

Michel fell hard onto the ground with a cry, the children shrieking in alarm. Kaidan, jolted by his own actions, rushed forward at once to help him up.

“Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself—”

He couldn’t finish. Michel was staring up at him in stunned disbelief.

First, he’d caught him as he fell. Then thrown him down. Then lifted him again with grave concern. Michel’s confusion was painfully justified.

“I—I…”

Kaidan opened his mouth, but no explanation would form. Heat flooded his face. The day was too warm. He had to get out—now.

Turning quickly, he moved to leave—only to come face to face with Heart, clutching the runaway Leon. The boy shot him a narrow, accusing glare.

Trash.

Though there were no words, it was undeniable in his eyes. Not only in Heart’s, but in the astonished faces of workers and knights who had witnessed everything from the sidelines.

“…”

Without a word, Kaidan turned and strode out of the courtyard entirely.

“Hey there—pain, pain, fly away!”

Charlotte cupped Michel’s head in both hands and blew tremendous gusts of air over it, spitting in her earnestness. She was imitating what Michel always did when one of the children was hurt. Michel chuckled awkwardly, lowering his head.

“Ha ha, thank you, Charlotte. The Headmaster doesn’t hurt at all anymore.”

“But Headmaster, you’ve got a bump!”

“…Do I?”

He reached up and gently touched his crown. Sure enough, there was a lump.

What on earth had that been about?

Michel furrowed his brow, replaying the incident in his mind. Usually the saying went that one who caused harm also offered healing—but today, Kaidan had done the opposite: offered care, then harm, and then care again.

If he’d intended to throw him, he shouldn’t have bothered to save him in the first place. When Kaidan had grabbed him mid-fall, Michel had been too startled to react—only for him to be immediately pushed away, making him topple over anyway.

And then, as if that madness weren’t enough, Kaidan had rushed forward to lift him and worry aloud, before abruptly walking off as though struck by amnesia. The absurdity had been enough to make Michel forget the pain altogether.

Had something urgent suddenly come to mind?

The more he pondered it, the stranger Kaidan’s behavior seemed. When they stepped out of the carriage, he resolved, they were going to have a talk.

“We’ve arrived at the square,” the knight announced.

No sooner had Michel formed the thought than the carriage came to a halt. A knight opened the door, and Michel stepped down with the children.

From a distance, he sensed eyes watching him—and turned to catch Kaidan glancing fleetingly his way before pretending not to see and striding off as though seized by pressing matters.

Michel’s confusion only deepened.