SPW 69

Knock, knock. At the sound of the knock, Sarang, who was changing his shoes, looked up. His teammate, Gray, who had knocked on the open door to get Sarang’s attention, pointed behind him with his thumb.

“His Grace the Duke is here.”

In reality, Florian was merely the heir to the Dukedom, but the public already referred to him as the Duke. This was because Florian’s grandfather and the current Duke, Arthur Dietrich, was in a comatose state, barely clinging to life. As the succession process had been completed before the current Duke collapsed, the moment he passed away, Florian would automatically acquire the ducal title.

“Rian is?”

“Darren said he’s shopping at the club shop…”

Darren was the manager of the club shop. Florian’s sudden appearance had given Darren’s loose lips tremendous wings, and the news had circulated throughout the entire club in less than ten minutes after his arrival, eventually reaching Sarang.

At the news that Florian had come, Sarang’s hands tying his shoelaces quickened. He soon put on a coat over his jersey and hastily slung his backpack over his shoulder.

“See you tomorrow, Gray.”

It took Sarang less than five seconds to smile, say his goodbyes, and exit the locker room. Gray, left alone in the blink of an eye, looked back at Sarang belatedly with a dazed expression and smacked his lips.

“Just like newlyweds.”

While running from the locker room to the club shop, he greeted everyone he met. Normally, Sarang’s departure would have been delayed by making small talk with each person he greeted, but today was different. Some of the staff, who were already aware of the Duke’s visit, deliberately greeted the hastily running Sarang to slow him down. Sarang, however, would say, “Let’s talk tomorrow,” and dash off as if flying, not giving them a second’s leeway.

The incident that day, which clearly showed how lovey-dovey they were, was recounted for a while among the club staff as a joke or a pleasant topic to chat about over drinks.

“Hey, Keyring.”

“Hey, Will.”

Will, who greeted Sarang as he was about to run into the shop, kindly held the door open for him.

“His Grace is inside.”

“Thanks!”

At 3 PM, the shop, whose business hours for the day had ended, should have had its interior lights turned off along with the sign. However, yellow nightlights illuminated the edges of the ceiling. Florian was standing in front of the uniform section. His tidy back was reflected in the closed glass door. Perhaps because the shutter, shaped like iron bars, was down beyond the glass door, he also looked as if he were trapped.

Rian can go anywhere and do anything, though.

As if sensing Sarang’s thoughts, Florian, who had been standing in front of the section, turned to look at him. Sarang, unable to take his eyes off him as he smiled under the yellow nightlights, felt as if he had heard the sound of the wind sweeping through golden branches.

“There are a lot of number 17s.”

“Rian.”

“Half the store is filled with Sarang. I already know you receive a lot of love, both in your home country and here, but the feeling is different.”

A hand reached out to Sarang, who was now standing in front of him, and brushed back his limply fallen bangs to feel his forehead.

“You don’t have a fever.”

“Training alone doesn’t give me a fever.”

“Sarang has a low body temperature.”

Florian’s hand, which had left his forehead, now took Sarang’s hand.

“Your hands are cold too.”

The April weather was far too early to be complacent. Sarang flinched, trying to gently pull his hand away, worried that his cold hand would steal Florian’s warmth.

“Uh…”

“Do you know your toes are cold too?”

Florian, instead of letting go, squeezed the hand that was trying to pull away and looked up at the now-widened black eyes.

“Sarang, how was your day?”

“…”

“Were you well?”

Florian’s brilliant blue eyes, asking after Sarang’s well-being, looked like both cold jewels and calm waves.

“Yes, Rian. I was well. How about you?”

“I had a not-so-bad day.”

“How much of Rian’s year does a ‘not-so-bad day’ take up?”

It was an unexpected question, but Florian answered readily.

“Originally, it used to take up about ten months.”

Originally.

A hint of melancholy flickered in Sarang’s eyes as he was lost in thought for a moment.

It meant that Florian, when his heat cycle came every six months, had ‘not-so-bad days’ except for during his heat periods. That’s why the answer ‘originally’ was a little heartbreaking. Because now that his heat cycle was unstable, even the ‘not-so-bad days’ had decreased.

“Rian.”

“Yes, Sarang.”

“Am I helpful to you?”

“Of course.”

Looking up at Sarang, who was not convinced by his affirmation, Florian let go of his hand and gently patted the back of it once.

“In the past three years, there have been only two months when I didn’t have a heat cycle. Other than that, it came at least once, sometimes even two or three times. I was barely able to function as a person. Not being in my right mind for over 200 days a year, not remembering that time, was harder than I thought.”

Florian’s face was reflected in the clear eyes that couldn’t hide their pity. The Florian reflected in Sarang’s eyes was spotless, clean, and immaculately tidy.

“Was it five months after I spent my first heat with Sarang? Yes, my heat came after five months. This can be considered quite a big help, Sarang.”

“But…”

“We can keep an eye on the memory loss issue a little longer. There’s no illness that heals easily, is there?”

“I…”

“Yes, Sarang.”

“I’m really happy that I’m quite a big help to Rian.”

“And you, Sarang?”

“What?”

Florian, who had let go of Sarang’s hand and created some distance, asked.

“Weren’t you disappointed, Sarang?”

“Why would I be disappointed?”

“To Sarang, I,”

Florian’s eyes glinted slightly.

“must have been a clean, wonderful, and cool person. Like a prince from a fairy tale who came to rescue a princess in distress.”

“Rian is much more wonderful than a prince.”

“Haha, if Billy were here, he would have had a fit and then some.”

Billy was the true heir to the Commonwealth’s throne. Florian’s casual use of a nickname for such a person made Sarang feel not a sense of distance, but a sense of disappointment first.

Rian calls everyone he’s close to by a nickname. Those people must call Rian ‘Rian’ too.

Even though he didn’t have the right, Sarang felt disappointed, a little sad, and just a tiny bit jealous. Still, he quickly composed himself. His feelings were not something he should impose on Florian.

“Was I wonderful even when I had no memory?”

Florian asked with a smile.

“What about the me who was panting with the desire to breed, craving Sarang’s semen and pheromones?”

Sarang, who had been staring intently, carefully stretched out both his hands. Florian watched Sarang’s actions without any particular reaction. That seemed like a silent permission, so Sarang wrapped his arms fully around Florian and hugged him tightly. Then, he buried the tip of his nose in the abundant blond hair that was like a wheat field.

“Sarang, I’m asking for your impression of me after seeing me laid bare to the very bottom.”

“What I remember is Rian’s body heat.”

“…”

“Rian would sometimes hold me gently, and he would kiss my cheek and shoulder. All that’s left with me is Rian’s tenderness and warmth.”

Florian, who had been silently held in Sarang’s arms, blinked. Sarang, who had grown up so much in the meantime, had room to spare even after holding Florian in a deep embrace like this. As expected, it shouldn’t be Florian himself who occupied this embrace. In his dreams and in reality, Florian was ultimately using Sarang for his own sake. Whatever the justification, that was the truth. Florian did not feel guilt. He did not want to feel it in the future.

“They say I got my low body temperature from my mother.”

“Did Colin say that?”

“Yes, Rian. He said I got my ink-black eyes and hair from my father, and my bright red lips from my mother.”

“It seems you inherited only the pretty parts.”

“…I’m glad that Rian still sees me as pretty.”

“Is there a reason to hate Sarang?”

“Some people, they hate for no reason at all.”

This was clearly based on Sarang’s own experience. It was something Florian had also experienced.

“And, they also like you for no reason at all.”

“Perhaps.”

Florian, who had buried his nose around Sarang’s collarbone, tilted his head back. Naturally, the space between them widened, and their eyes met.

“There are probably more people who like Sarang than hate him.”

“Yes.”

Sarang, who had been looking at Florian for a long time, crinkled the corners of his eyes and smiled.

“I know that too.”

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to say, “Like me,” or “Love me,” to Florian.

Florian, who was looking at the pretty dimples on his raised cheekbones, replied casually, “That’s right,” and took a step back. Florian was able to easily slip out of Sarang’s embrace.