Chapter 9

If only she could have explained it to Arkin like this, how wonderful would that have been? Nephitia explained what she had read step by step to Shadia, who was staring at her with her mouth hanging open.

“…And they say that Hetasept applies equally to the monarch as well. Even though they are granted divine authority, the monarch ultimately lives and walks upon the earth, too. Therefore, if the monarch finds their Hetasept, they only need to take them to the temple and have it confirmed that they are their soulmate. Then there is no need to bring in consorts, and no need to share a bed with them either. Right?”

“Oh dear, Your Highness…”

Shadia rubbed her face in sheer disbelief. Her heart pricked with a sting at the negative reaction, but desperately wanting to secure even a single word of agreement from Shadia, she pushed on with her explanation.

“So, the monarch meeting their Hetasept is a tremendous blessing not just for that person, but for the entire nation. By being with someone who grants supreme pleasure when sharing a bed, not only will they naturally bear an heir well, but an extremely healthy and brilliant child will be born. Won’t they?”

“First of all… why on earth have you suddenly taken an interest in Hetasept? Who on earth told Your Highness about such a thing?”

Nephitia’s pretty lips, which had been moving without a moment’s rest, snapped shut tightly.

She couldn’t possibly say that she had sneaked into her mother’s bedchamber and found a book hidden inside the wardrobe. It was from back when she loathed her mother’s consorts so much that she used to lurk around the bedchamber trying to find a way to play tricks on them.

“Right. You probably searched for it anywhere and anyhow, anyway. Who could possibly stop Your Highness!”

Clucking her tongue with a sigh, Shadia knitted her brows and fell into deep thought. After wearing a profoundly bewildered expression over what and where to start explaining, she abruptly laid down the law by declaring, “That’s all an illusion.”

“It’s just a story made up by people of the past. It’s a fairy tale completely detached from reality.”

Shadia cleared her throat and raised her voice.

“For starters, I do know what a Hetasept is. The tales say that merely holding hands makes your chest swell with emotion, your heart beats as if it’s about to burst, you can’t tear your eyes away from each other, and you eventually find yourselves swept up in an intense, heightened state of agitation…”

Nephitia silently clenched both hands tightly together. Fiddling with the fingertips that had touched Arkin just a little while ago, she recalled that extraordinary sensation. There was no mistaking it. Unlike Nephitia, who was cementing her conviction, Shadia—who failed to connect Arkin and Nephitia to a “Hetasept”—continued straight on with her explanation.

“First of all, to become a ‘Hetasept’, both parties must without fail share the exact same tremor, be completely seized by the identical emotion, and be overwhelmed by that atmosphere. Ordinary people might experience something similar. But if that other person is the monarch, what man in this world would ever dare take Her Highness’s hand and feel such a tremor?”

I can just take his hand first!

Nephitia thrust out her lips in a pout. Besides, Arkin Seilir was a prince. Since they were equals, she could take his hand without hesitation. Wasn’t he quite literally the most perfect match imaginable?

“Even if someone were to captivate Your Highness’s heart and secretly whisper that they are Your Highness’s Hetasept, you must cast them out and punish them immediately. Because such a person is a wicked individual attempting to disturb the monarch’s mind with cunning acts and monopolize them.”

Shadia pressed the edge of her hand against her own neck and made a mock swiping motion.

“A very long time ago, in the era of our ancestors, they say there were thirty-two consorts. Among them, there were those who harped on about being a ‘Hetasept’ in order to monopolize the young monarch’s heart. Yet when they went to the temple to have it proven, every single one of them proved to be a lie, and in the end, even their noble houses were entirely wiped out.”

“At the very least, among the sixteen consorts I am scheduled to meet, there is no such person. Of that, I can be certain. Because I won’t feel a single thing from them. They’ll probably just reek of a foul, rotting stench.”

“Your Highness…”

Shadia, who had been about to say she should try to find some affection for them somehow anyway, felt all the wind completely go out of her sails. Her chest tightened sharply at the thought of how she was going to get past this hurdle next. She had expected it, but she hadn’t known Nephitia harbored this level of repulsion… Arguing over whether she should wear an outer robe or not had been vastly preferable by comparison!

After a long stretch of silence, Shadia opened her mouth heavily.

“Your Highness, our priority for now is to finish the training tournament safely. Let’s talk more after it’s over.”

“Right. Very well.”

Nephitia nodded. Six months from now. It was by no means a short amount of time. In the meantime, it would be best to find some way to grow closer to Prince Arkin. She could just verify whether he truly felt nothing at all, or if he was simply hiding it remarkably well, after all…

“Prince, um, I am terribly sorry. Because I went and spoke needlessly…”

A thoroughly cowed Magnus trotted along after Arkin, scratching the back of his head vigorously.

He hadn’t quite caught what kind of conversation had passed between Prince Arkin and the Kepet princess just moments ago. However, from what he roughly overheard, the Kepet princess had ended up babbling about royal succession and apparently turned the Prince’s stomach right upside down…

“Uhm, Prince?”

He called out to him once more, but no words seemed to reach Arkin as he strode resolutely up the sloping forest path.

Ah, what should I do? I’m a blockheaded retainer. He’s already having a hard enough time as it is, and I had to go and run my mouth…

Crushed by guilt, Magnus was busy swallowing back tears, but in reality, the prince walking ahead of him was boiling over with entirely different frustrations.

“Hah…”

Arkin pressed his throbbing temples. He was continuously replaying what had just happened. The more he looked back on it, the more absurd and humiliating it felt, making it hard for his mind to settle. Humiliation… yes, this was “humiliation.”

Just why were that woman’s hands so recklessly light?

The people of the Forest Kingdom of Solinar prioritized the community, but firmly maintained their individual personal boundaries within it. Mutual respect for each other’s boundaries, making it an unwritten rule never to trespass within them. There was even a saying: “Beneath each person’s feet lies their own root.”

Reviewing his entire life, not a single person had ever dared to grope Arkin’s bare face like kneading a lump of bread. Even his mother and his nanny had not handled Arkin’s body recklessly after he turned five years old. Even in Solinar, you don’t casually touch a child’s face!

…Was that why? The insane actions of the Kepet princess who had suddenly lunged at him were carved into Arkin’s mind as if etched with a blade. If it were only her actions, it might have been one thing. Though he tried hard to shake off those sticky, clinging golden eyes, those round eyes hovered floatingly before his vision all the way out of the forest.

What is this? Was it because my mental training was lacking after all? Arkin self-castigated as he ruffled his hair. He had undergone the high-intensity mental training passed down through generations in Solinar for so long. An iron-clad composure my foot. If he had stayed together with her just a little longer, something disgraceful might have actually happened.

…And besides, what on earth was that sensation?

Reaching the end of the long-stretching forest path, a scenery completely distinct from before unfolded. Until just a moment ago, it had been a dark, damp, and muggy jungle. The moment they stepped out of the path, the blazing light of a high-hanging sun poured down relentlessly, dyeing the rocky field stark white.

“This place is super barren and hot. They called it a mystical island, but the terrain really is diverse.”

Magnus, who had drawn close to Arkin’s side before he noticed, muttered. On the rocky mountain shimmering in direct sunlight, the sole trace of greenery consisted of a few olive trees struggling to twist their bodies between the fissures of the rocks.

“Uhm, Prince! Look over there. That’s the exact fruit that’s as expensive as gold back in Solinar.”

Magnus raised a hand and pointed at a tree jutting out from a crevice in the rocks. Rolling his eyes and glancing sideways like a nervous puppy, his thoroughly dejected appearance from earlier looked so pitiful that Arkin readily nodded.

“It’s an olive. Go touch it.”

Wow! Cheering, Magnus sprinted toward the branches. He reveled in darting back and forth between the round leaves and the well-ripened fruits hanging in clusters and gleaming.

Arkin gazed blankly at the tree. His eyes were drawn first to the free-spirited shape of the branches, a sight hard to come by in Solinar. After watching for a while as the round leaves flashed silver under the sunlight every now and then, Arkin shook his head again. His chest kept feeling stifled, and his breath grew short. Thoughts that kept burrowing into his head at every chance clung thickly to his mind.