Chapter 18

Arkin glanced at her a few times in bewilderment. Could she really get away with doing this? Why all of a sudden? Was she good-natured, or just bad at remembering things? They hadn’t parted on very good terms back in the forest, so why was she acting like it was nothing? He had practically flown into a rage at her, after all…

“That reminds me, Arkin, did you see that palanquin over there?”

Still feeling dazed, Arkin turned his gaze in the direction Nephitia was pointing. A large palanquin with green vines tightly wrapped around its four pillars was taking up the middle of the courtyard. Arkin’s attention was drawn to the large, half-moon-shaped swords hanging from the waists of the soldiers. It was an unfamiliar shape he had never seen before.

“This is practically an insult to our Iivika!”

It seemed there had been a dispute when the sanctuary staff asked them to move the palanquin aside, but the guards had refused.

“Uh… Well.”

Arkin barely managed a reply. He lacked the mental bandwidth to care about that right now.

A sweet yet sugary scent drifted over from somewhere. Flowers? Fruit? It was an intoxicatingly wonderful fragrance he had never smelled before, seeming to envelop him softly and comfortably.

…And that scent was growing steadily stronger.

“Hey, where are you looking? I said over there, didn’t I?”

It was merely a light bump from her slender body, yet Arkin’s frame stiffened in an instant. He couldn’t quite fathom the situation, but an intuition told him that his agitation must not be conveyed to Nephitia. No matter what…

However, Nephitia was quicker to catch on than Arkin. Slap! Before Arkin’s body could pull back, she pressed both hands down onto the back of Arkin’s hand. As if to say, Gotcha, Nephitia leaned in close and peered straight into Arkin’s eyes.

“Right? Isn’t it? I told you my guess was right!”

Unable to even make up an excuse, Arkin could only shake his head. He desperately tried to deny what she was implying, asking what on earth she meant, but he was forced to keep his mouth tightly shut for fear that some strange, unnatural sound might slip out.

“It is right!”

No, it isn’t! Arkin shook his head vigorously. Cold sweat was pouring down.

“See? Why did you lie?”

Because this whole thing is insane, that’s why…

While Arkin waged his battle, Nephitia kept her eyes locked on him with dogged persistence. She didn’t look away from him for a single second, as though she meant to strip bare every single sensation Arkin was trying to hide at this very moment.

“What are your symptoms like? Is your breath short and your body getting hot?”

Honestly, he couldn’t deny it. If anyone looked at his current state, the truth would be glaringly obvious. He was panting heavily and his face was burning. It must have turned bright red as if a fire had been lit…

While shuddering inwardly at such a bizarre sensation, Arkin harbored a single question.

Why is Nephitia completely fine while only I am suffering like this…?

“I suppose it’s because I accepted it all, whereas Arkin didn’t.”

Did answering on her own accord without even being asked have something to do with fatalism, too?

Nephitia replied unconcernedly while gently smoothing the back of Arkin’s hand.

“Just admit it and accept it for now. You have to acknowledge it first so we can talk about what’s going to happen to us.”

“…No.”

Having barely managed to open his mouth, Arkin stubbornly shook his head.

Accepting this bizarre sensation felt like… a mistake. He felt as though he might go limp like someone who had chugged an entire jar of honey wine, or fall apart into a miserable mess like someone intoxicated by strange herbs.

And that sort of state was something Arkin, who always exercised flawless self-discipline, absolutely never wanted to display. Situations where he made a mistake or faced humiliation in front of many people were practically synonymous with terror for him.

“They say the stronger the resistance inside you, the more uncomfortable and difficult it gets.”

“There’s no such thing… as resistance…”

This is absurd. How am I supposed to acknowledge it, and how am I supposed to accept it? Knowing what kind of consequences might follow? Arkin was desperately clinging to his rapidly fraying nerves.

Whatever the reality of this was, this very moment was dangerous. A sense of crisis washed over him, warning that if he slipped up, he might lose everything Arkin had aimed for.

“Really? Then, how about this?”

Nephitia raised one hand and opened her eyes wide. Where is she trying to touch? Arkin’s eyes widened. No, don’t. Don’t do it!

“Ngh…”

Nephitia’s hand pressed down just above Arkin’s knee.

“Ah, damn it… What… is this?”

A low groan ultimately slipped from the prince’s lips. Was the knee such a sensitive spot? Intense heat pooled beneath her palm.

“Ngh… It’s hot…”

Hearing a sound louder than expected, Nephitia startled and knitted her brows.

“Goodness, Arkin! People are watching. Keep your voice down.”

“No, take… your hand… away…”

Ah! Nephitia finally released the pressure she had been exerting like a vise over his knee and hand. Having barely managed to catch his breath, Arkin staggered and clutched at his chest. Hah, hah. The air felt sweet, like someone who had spent too long diving deep underwater.

Arkin pulled out the small water pouch tied to his waist to wet his throat. As he moistened his lips, he looked at Nephitia and asked in a cracked voice.

“So… what happens if I accept this? Are you saying you’re my soulmate?”

Hoping against hope that it wasn’t the case while gulping down water, Nephitia let her eyes shine with earnestness.

“They say we can feel supreme pleasure even from a single act of intercourse.”

Puff! The water Arkin had just been letting flow into his mouth sprayed right back out.

What kind of crazy talk is this?

Unlike Arkin, who was too flabbergasted to speak properly, Nephitia explained the situation in a calm, measured tone.

“Union with a fated partner is like a blessing bestowed by the gods. Whenever we share a bedchamber, we can experience supreme pleasure that you’ve never enjoyed even once in your life, Arkin.”

“Wait, just a minute…”

“I’ll send a ship for you. Naturally, I ought to do at least that much for my precious Hetasept who has traveled a long way. Right?”

Setting aside the bizarre nature of the content, just listening to Nephitia’s tone made it sound as though there wasn’t a single strange thing about it. From Arkin’s perspective, however, it was a situation that made him feel ready to lose his mind. How could she say something like this so casually…?

Arkin tried his best to think rationally for the moment. Why he was playing along with this nonsense was beyond him, but it seemed he needed to listen first before offering a rebuttal.

“Just like you said, you and I are that fated…”

“Hetasept.”

“Heta… Ha, fine. Anyway, let’s just say it’s that.”

Arkin let out a breath and continued.

“So you’re saying you and I need to meet up periodically just to feel that pleasure? Furthermore, in Kepet, the monarch doesn’t take a partner. Did I understand that right?”

“That’s right. And the moment the monarch ascends to supreme pleasure through a sacred union with their Hetasept, they can conceive a brilliant successor to raise the next generation.”

…Listening to that now, she was genuinely telling him to act as a royal stud, wasn’t she?

“Stop talking nonsense. Don’t flatter yourself.”

Arkin sprang up from his seat. The moment he displayed his agitated emotions, his entire body ached, and a sensation akin to pain flared sharply upward.

Thump, thump, thump, thump—his blood raced violently, and pressure built within his chest. Confronting the terrifying sensation that his entire body was about to burst, Arkin spat out his words as though chewing through them one by one.

“It’s insulting. Let me make this clear: I have no desire to get tangled up with you. Starting this very moment, I despise you even more times over.”

“No, you do want it. You need to be honest with yourself, Arkin. Otherwise, you’re going to suffer every time you’re around me.”

“Get lost.”

An edge hardened in Arkin’s eyes. He would no longer allow himself to be swept along by the Kepet princess’s antics. Arkin stepped backward to put distance between them.

Perhaps making final preparations for the opening ceremony, priests on the central stage were transferring sacred flames to the braziers and standing in a circle chanting incantations. Silver platters, clean white towels, and olive branches lay before the makeshift altar. Gritting his teeth, Arkin stared at the altar. He thought of the prophecy he was meant to receive.

“Destiny or whatever, I refuse. Go find someone else.”

Eyes that looked as though they were embedded with golden fragments gazed at him blankly. He felt as though he might suffocate under the momentum she was exuding. Arkin struggled to grit his teeth.

“The opening ceremony is about to start soon. I’m going to keep my distance from you and just do what I have to do.”

“But Arkin, let me explain…”

“I need to live harder. If only so I don’t have to hear useless nonsense from a stranger I met for the first time today, telling me to come away to their country to sleep with them or become their friends.”

Taking another step back, Arkin glared at her. As the bizarre sensation that had been tightening its grip on him began to subside little by little, he was finally able to feel a slight sense of relief.

“I have my own path, Nephitia. Leave me out of your concerns, and let’s keep a proper distance.”

Nephitia opened her mouth as if to say something, but Arkin turned his back on her and walked away. Trying hard not to look back while cutting across the chaotic courtyard crowded with servants and royalty, he hurried down the semicircular steps.