ORCA 49

Orca pulled his forehead away. Niah’s head followed him naturally. Having exhausted all his energy just by lying there, Niah stared at Orca with his eyes more than half-closed. He felt foolish for being so sleepy in such a situation, but he couldn’t help it.

I’ve been staying up until dawn every day lately, and today I even went to the greenhouse, and I think I’m exhausted from crying earlier, and… my room’s bed is hard, but the young master’s bed is so fluffy… and the young master is warm, and… the young master’s hand, this strange feeling… I don’t know, I’m just sleepy…

“Niah.”

Niah, who had been drifting into a deep sleep, forced his eyelids to lift. His vision was blurry.

“…Young masteeer…”

“That guy did it, didn’t he?”

Niah leaned his cheek against Orca’s palm again at the subtle pressure against his waist. The cryptic words were of no interest. He couldn’t think of anything. He just wanted to sleep. He clenched his teeth, and a nasal sound followed. Feeling like he couldn’t sleep like this, he twisted his body. But no matter which way he squirmed, he was still in the young master’s arms. After repeating the same futile actions, Niah eventually gave up and went limp.

“Don’t do that… Tomorrow, I’ll do it tomorrow… Young master… I’ll… Ugh, Young master, yeah…”

Realizing he couldn’t break free by force, Niah pleaded with words this time. He rubbed against him, babbling whatever came to mind. The feeling of rubbing against the rough skin of the palm felt good.

Orca, on the other hand, was losing his patience. He had to get an answer before Niah fell asleep. He felt that more honest answers would come out in a sleepy state.

“If not that guy, then is it that kitchen servant? What was his name… Niah.”

“…”

“You need to answer.”

“Ah, hic, yes…”

“Did the kitchen servant do it?”

“The kitchen…? Luan… Ah… Adrian… Ugh. No. No, it’s…”

“Then?”

Niah was now at the point where he couldn’t even make the effort to open his eyes. He only moved his lips in time with the voice whispering in his ear. Even that reaction was becoming duller by the moment. Orca urged him on, pulling his waist tightly into a hug.

“It’s that guy, isn’t it? The one who gave you the scar on your forehead.”

“Ugh, I don’t kno, ow…”

“Don’t give me that.”

“I, I don’t really kno, hic. Young masteeer…”

In reality, he couldn’t deduce who it was. Not because there were dozens of servants in the mansion, but because he had never taken an interest in anyone until now. The list of people to consider was limited. It had been nearly a month since he arrived at Rosselia, but he didn’t even know five of the servants by face.

The only one whose name he remembered was the goldfish. If he had to add one more, there was someone called ‘Harriet,’ but he only knew her name, and since she seemed to have fulfilled the goldfish’s request last time, he excluded her for now.

Regardless, after filtering out the few others, the only one left was ‘that guy.’ Judging by his attitude toward the goldfish in the vegetable patch, it seemed almost certain. Besides, he had let him roam the mansion while covered in blood; it was unlikely anyone else would touch him unless they were a total idiot. At least, for as long as he was staying here at Rosselia.

In that sense, that guy was quite the idiot. Considering he would repeat every question he asked before answering, or fail to understand his meaning on the first try, he was definitely a fool.

Orca, having pinned the blame on the culprit as he pleased, urged Niah once more. He was determined to get a definitive answer. He pulled away the hand that had been supporting Niah’s cheek. At the same time, he caressed him firmly from the bottom of his ribs to the top of his pelvis.

“Why are you protecting him? After being treated like this.”

Niah finally opened his eyes slightly and blinked. However, under the touch of fingers gently brushing through his hair, they soon closed again. It was a moment where the languor felt greater than the pain.

Of course, the most important person to Niah was the young master. Trying to do something, he moved the fingers he had rested on the back of Orca’s hand like a marionette. Then, he burrowed under the thick fingers that were rubbing his forehead.

“Forehead… I didn’t get hurt… It doesn’t hurt… There’s nowhere that hurts…”

Orca curled the corners of his mouth slowly, following the sleepy voice. It was such a subtle change that if Niah hadn’t been closing his eyes, he probably wouldn’t have noticed. Orca briefly contemplated waking up the goldfish, who was babbling whatever came to mind in his sleep, to scold him. If he forcibly sat him up and scolded him, Niah would surely just burst into tears and cling to him, begging for forgiveness.

“…”

The expression was too innocent for that, so he stopped at the imagination. Orca chose his words carefully to make the question easier. After gently rubbing Niah’s neat eyebrows, he opened his mouth to whisper.

“Niah. I don’t mean you’re hurt right now,”

But his words were cut off before he could finish what he was saying.

“I’ve never… been hurt…”

Orca was uncharacteristically flustered. It was outside his expectations. He swallowed hard.

“I didn’t get hurt. I didn’t get hurt here. Not here, but here… only my waist hurts… I’ve never… been hurt… on my forehead.”

Orca’s gaze crossed over Niah, following his fingers as they moved from his forehead down to his waist. Niah was still wandering between dreams and reality.

“Was it not…? Did I forget again… I’m such an idiot…”

Orca hunched his large frame and buried his face into Niah’s neck and shoulder. He pulled Niah’s waist tight and cradled the back of his head.

“I’m sorry. I… please punish me tomorrow… I was wrong. Young masteeer… But I’m just so…”

His steady breathing mingled with the sound of his thumping heart. Orca couldn’t even hug him tightly for fear of breaking the goldfish. The unnamed emotion he had never been able to define until now felt just like fear.

☀️🌊

At this point, he felt like he would let things play out however they wanted. The lines that shouldn’t be crossed, the end of summer when he would have to return to the border, the goldfish’s memory—he felt like he would just let them all be. They wouldn’t flow in the direction he wanted anyway.

It was the same when he looked at the goldfish who had invaded his room while he was pondering what excuse to use to call him back. It was the same when he was shocked to witness that very scene, even though he had been hoping the goldfish would quickly forget him with his ridiculous memory. It was the same with himself, who had ended up offering not just the blankets but the space beside him to the cheeky servant who had fallen soundly asleep in his master’s room.

The most sigh-inducing thing of all was the fact that he was currently in the greenhouse of his own volition. As if that weren’t enough, he had been sipping the flavorless, toxic swill for hours. The cold black tea tasted terrible.

The goldfish had zero talent for brewing tea. Despite that, he had set the cup down with a proud face and run away, claiming he was busy. He only had an abundance of talent for grinning for no reason.

“Niah.”

At the brief call, Niah stood up with a start and came running from a short distance away. He had been crouching in front of the flowerbed, working, while stealing glances at the young master behind him. Orca had been watching Niah’s daily routine from a white iron bench. Because of that, every time Niah turned his head, their eyes would inevitably meet.

The thought that the young master was watching him made heat rise to the back of his neck. He felt shy, ticklish, and, in any case, something felt strange. Furthermore, the two of them—the young master and himself—had the vast glass greenhouse all to themselves.

The other servants had suddenly disappeared one by one after the young master appeared and were nowhere to be seen. He could only hear the sound of trees and flowers swaying softly. A silence filled with the feeling of spring continued. He was anxious, wondering what would happen if the young master heard his heart pounding.

Sunlight streamed into the greenhouse bench, casting long shadows between the green leaves. The light, slanting after passing midday, tinted the surroundings in shimmering hues. The shadows fluttered in the gentle breeze, rippling like waves. It was like a well-painted landscape.

With the young master sitting there, it didn’t just look like a picture; it looked like a breathtaking masterpiece. It was more magnificent than any painting in the palace, more impressive than any statue. He didn’t know much about art, but in any case, the young master was incredibly magnificent. He was excited that with every step he took, he got closer to the young master. The moments where he didn’t have to watch him secretly in hiding were precious to him.