Chapter 27

“I consider meddling excessively in other people’s business to be an unrefined behavior.”

The atmosphere instantly turned chilling at the devoid-of-warmth, cold voice. Pressed down by that momentum, Amalfi jutted out her lower lip, while Petra shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, since Lakelium is a strong ally of Solinar and the two of you must have known each other for a long time, it’s probably natural for her to say that, but…”

“That’s not us.”

Amalfi grumbled quietly.

Nephitia felt Serena’s gaze and met it head-on. Something sharp flickered within those blue-green pupils before vanishing soon after. It was by no means a warm and friendly feeling.

“Right, we should probably head to the dining hall now.”

When Nephitia spoke briefly, the princesses hesitated and closed their mouths. Amalfi still wore an expression as though she wanted to ask something more, and Petra was much the same, but they didn’t hold Nephitia back any further.

“Uhm, but the princess of Astralia hasn’t come out yet…”

Amalfi hesitated, looking back and forth between Petra and Nephitia. Nephitia glanced back down the hallway. It seemed she needed a little more time.

“True, she is late.”

Answering simply, Nephitia left them behind and stepped out of the accommodation. She remained unaware of the subtle gazes sticking to the back of her head.

Since they would all be meeting together in the dining hall anyway, she simply wanted to savor a bit more of the scenery of this beautiful, newly encountered island.

As soon as she passed through the entrance, moisture-laced air brushed against the bridge of her nose, naturally lifting her spirits. Nephitia walked slowly, looking down at the ever-changing scenery of Credo Island. The deep-set sunlight dyed the entire world in gold.

It was then that a rustling sound came from the grass. Standing tall where she turned around was a man with his back to the sunset. The man, bare-chested with his upper body wide open to view, smiled brightly and bared his white teeth.

“Hello… Princess?”

Arkin walked through the central corridor of the temple at a pace close to running. When entering the entrance, a worker had told him that turning the corner at the far end of the eastern hallway would lead to the dining hall, so fortunately, the temple’s interior wasn’t complicated, allowing him to find the way without much difficulty.

Stepping between thick, massive pillars supporting the dizzyingly high ceiling, the faint scent of food drifted to the tip of his nose at some point. Was it around here? Seeing workers carrying large cauldrons coming and going from the opposite passage gave him certainty.

It wasn’t too late yet. Slowing his pace, Arkin stopped to catch his breath. Thinking Elio was following closely behind, it seemed the other had fallen behind in the meantime.

As Arkin naturally reached out to adjust his attire by habit, he suddenly realized that he didn’t even have a hem to straighten.

“How am I supposed to walk around wearing this?”

Arkin grumbled quietly. Defying his resolve to somehow adapt, it was uncomfortable, uncomfortable, and yet more uncomfortable. The white sleeveless tunic might look feather-light and comfortable to others, but not to him. He had to firmly suppress the maddeningly awkward urge to throw something else over himself.

For one, it was way too short. Even when he pulled down the hem, it barely managed to cover above his knees, leaving Arkin bewildered. Would he even be able to sit anywhere like this? To make matters worse, what he wore underneath the tunic was nothing more than a single piece of lower-body underwear.

Even in front of the mother who bore him or the nanny who raised him, Arkin had never exposed more than his wrists and ankles. It was the result of being trained from a very young age to wash his body cleanly himself and dress in clothes with his own hands.

In Solinar, the higher-ranking an adult male was, the more a cultured gentleman was expected to manage his own body neatly by himself. Changing clothes with the help of a subordinate or receiving assistance during a bath were the habits of vulgar folks.

“Ha.”

The sandal straps that kept loosening were also a headache. Why did they keep coming undone even after he tied them properly? When he bent down to fix the straps, the hem of his tunic hitched up perilously. Cold sweat broke out at the thought that his thick thighs or buttocks might be exposed rather than his bare feet.

…Do Kepet men walk around like this too? Do they just bare everything below and still not think much of it? I mean, do they just wear them coolly, even with women watching, or…

Well, even Nephitia didn’t seem to care all that much…

While he was letting his guard down, ‘that certain princess’ forced her way into his mind again. This time, it was a bit serious. Heat surged up abruptly. It was an embarrassing matter he couldn’t possibly confess to anyone, but in truth, he had felt awkward all by himself ever since he first laid eyes on her.

If he made eye contact to avoid looking at her body, his breath caught in his throat, and whenever he looked away to dodge that gaze, his eyes felt drawn toward her body as if pulled by a magnet. The prince of Solinar, who disciplined all desires and impulses for the sake of a pure body and clear mind, felt a sense of self-loathing time and time again.

The lively and healthy-looking tanned skin, the body entirely revealed beneath just a single layer…

“Ah, Arkin. I’m sorry!”

Startled, Arkin whipped his head around. Panting, Elio was approaching from the end of the hallway.

“Elio, are you alright?”

Prince Elio of the Kingdom of Veilon seemed to possess a constitution far more fragile than Arkin had expected. He never imagined it would take this long just to cover this short distance.

“Sorry, I’m just not very good at running.”

Clutching his chest, the Fog Prince’s body swayed limply like a reed stalk. His lips were parched and turned a bluish-purple. Supporting Elio’s body with one arm, Arkin steadied them.

“Don’t push yourself, lean on me.”

“B-But Arkin, your face is… red, too…”

“Me? No. It must be because of the torches.”

It wasn’t because of weak stamina, but rather because he couldn’t shake off useless, stray thoughts.

“Let’s go, Elio.”

Arkin grabbed Elio’s shoulder and made him lean against him. The prince declined repeatedly, telling Arkin to leave him behind, but Arkin ignored it. Practically half-carrying Elio, he brought him toward the dining hall.

“I’m really sorry, Arkin.”

Elio let his head drop limply. Keeping his head bowed low as if ashamed to lean on Arkin.

“Actually, Arkin, I… didn’t want to come here. Not long ago, my father was openly mocked by the King of Igninov. They invited us father and son to a banquet and insulted us right to our faces, yet we couldn’t do a thing. With me being the heir and turning out like this, things are only going to go downhill from here on out…”

Arkin kept walking without answering. Turning a corner, a massive brown wooden door came into view a few paces ahead. That was likely the dining hall Priest Titus had mentioned.

“Elio.”

Arkin said, putting strength into the arm wrapped around the Fog Prince’s waist.

“If you ever need help, I’ll make sure I can help Veilon someday. At least while we’re here, ignore those bastards’ bullshit.”

Elio, who had kept his head deeply bowed the whole time, raised it with a surprised expression. Deep, beautiful eyes gleaming faintly through long, cascading strands of hair quietly captured Arkin. Like a shooting star falling silently in the night sky, Elio’s eyes left a brief yet stunning impression before plummeting back down, carrying sorrow once more.

“Thank you, Arkin.”

Arkin reached the doorway of the dining hall. Releasing Elio’s shoulder, Arkin carefully offered words of encouragement.

“You heard it yourself. Without fog, there is no forest. Veilon and we are brothers who share many things. At least, that’s how I was raised…”

He felt a slight worry that it might be an overstepping remark, but Arkin tried his best to convey his sincerity.

“Let’s go in now, Elio. I will firmly be on your side, so ignore whatever babble Draconis spews out.”

“…Arkin will surely become a great king.”

Arkin tightly gripped the smoothly worn doorknob and came to an abrupt halt. He needed to open this door and step inside, but suddenly his feet felt cemented to the floor, unable to take a single step.

“I think I finally understand why you are so praised in Solinar. There are rampant rumors that because you are a successor with noble character, people want you to become the leader of the World Alliance. Everyone sings praises, saying Arkin, Arkin, what a fine prince you are…”

“Right, thanks, Elio.”

Arkin desperately forced the corners of his lips upward.

Pretending everything was fine while hiding his fraying nerves, he pushed the dining hall door wide open with all his might. At the same time, the final bell signaling assembly rang out loudly.

The interior of the dining hall, built solely for functionality, was barren without any decorations or adornments. The high ceiling and walls were whitewashed, and black stones were densely laid across the floor.

Those who had arrived earlier were seated by gender at three crude wooden tables placed with oil lamps, and right from there, someone suddenly sprang to their feet and approached, welcoming Arkin.