TTQI 4

About a month had passed since the wedding day. The setting was the training ground within the palace, where numerous young men were sweating profusely under the scorching sun, diligently honing their skills. Some soldiers struck wooden dummies, others aimed bows at targets, and some sparred with each other, all engrossed in sharpening their abilities.

On one side of the training ground, a group of soldiers sat in a circle, watching two knights spar. Their practice forgotten, the duel had become an impromptu spectacle. Every time the men thrust their swords at each other, cheers erupted from the crowd.

Of the two men facing off with wooden swords, one was Sir Villeneuve, and the other was Prince Zizlon. Like the other soldiers, they had casually shed their shirts, mingling freely with the men. Their broad chests glistened with sweat, and their taut muscles flexed relentlessly.

“Ha! Try blocking this!”

“Come at me!”

As the two knights’ swords clashed with a crisp ‘thwack,’ another cheer burst from the soldiers. Ade and Zizlon were nearly evenly matched. When Ade swung his sword broadly, Zizlon parried it; when Zizlon thrust sharply, Ade tilted his head to narrowly deflect the blade. Each time a sword missed its mark by a hair’s breadth, sighs of disappointment rippled through the audience.

“Hiyah!”

Circling each other warily, Ade suddenly lunged, aiming for Zizlon’s head. Zizlon let out a short laugh, narrowly dodging the incoming blade. Seizing the opening created by Ade’s swing, he tapped Ade’s forehead with a ‘thud’ and stepped back.

“Whoa? That’s… that’s cheap…”

The soldiers burst into laughter. Zizlon grinned cheekily, waving to the spectators. Ade, stumbling but regaining his balance, gave a mock-irritated smirk. Then, he lunged at Zizlon’s side while the prince was distracted. As if waiting for it, Zizlon swiftly pulled back, playfully flicking Ade’s sword upward with his blade. Ade’s sword soared into the air, dragging his arm with it. With hawk-like eyes, Zizlon thrust at the opening, landing a dull thud on Ade’s shoulder.

“Ugh!”

The wooden sword slipped from Ade’s hand, spinning a few times in the air before embedding itself in the training ground.

Ade let out a hearty laugh, clutching his throbbing shoulder.

“This round goes to His Highness!”

A soldier acting as referee jumped up and shouted. The prince won the third round, making the score one-to-one after the second. The spar concluded with Zizlon’s victory.

As the outcome was decided, the watching soldiers surged forward. One picked up the fallen sword and handed it to Ade, who accepted it with a resigned smile.

“Damn it. It was a trap.”

Wiping sweat with a towel handed by a soldier, Zizlon asked, “You alright? I think I hit you a bit too hard…”

“I’m fine, Your Highness. By the way, you beat me.”

“Thanks.”

“But isn’t smacking my forehead out of nowhere a bit dirty?”

Ade grumbled lightly, half-joking. Zizlon laughed heartily, unfazed.

“It was to teach you to stay alert for such a huge opening. Weren’t you the one who said to treat it like a real fight? Anything can happen in a real battle.”

“Anyone would go down under your brute strength. You’re like a bear. How many here can withstand your sword anyway?”

“That’s a cowardly excuse.”

“Sure, sure. If I’d fought any more ‘real,’ you’d have buried me.”

The soldiers roared with laughter at Ade’s sarcasm. Zizlon, taking no offense, laughed boisterously. “Tch,” Ade muttered, quickly letting go of any lingering resentment from the match.

“I lost to a cheap trick, but I’ll concede cleanly. What did I bet again?”

“You said you’d give me a horse from your estate.”

“Oh, right. Damn, I spoke without thinking. Your Highness, that’s too steep a loss. How about a nice saddle instead?”

“Didn’t you say you’d accept the outcome?”

“Ugh, you’re so strict. Fine.”

Zizlon smiled contentedly as Ade reluctantly moved his arm. More than winning a fine horse, seeing his friend sulk was amusing. Then, the soldiers spoke up.

“You two were neck and neck. That was a thrilling match.”

“Really? Though using spectating as an excuse to skip training isn’t exactly great, is it?”

Zizlon’s teasing grin made the soldiers sheepishly avert their eyes.

“Ahem.”

Zizlon’s lips twitched as he watched them. Before the strict prince could launch into a full lecture and ruin the mood, Ade quickly intervened.

“Enough! Watching is learning, too. We’ve sweated enough, so let’s all rest in the shade. What do you say, Your Highness?”

“Hmm… Alright. Tell the others to rest, too.”

“Hey! You heard him! Wrap it up and come to the shade. Morning training’s over.”

With the approval of the prince and Sir Villeneuve, the guard captain, the soldiers put down their weapons and began gathering under the shade. The heat from their intense training had made the air swelteringly unbearable. The sand kicked up on the training ground coated their bodies and throats with grit.

Leaning against a tree, Zizlon grimaced at his parched throat. Reading his mind, Ade brought him a cup of water without being asked. Zizlon nodded in thanks and gulped down the refreshing water.

“Ah, that’s better.”

“Pretty hot, huh?”

Ade sat beside him. Wiping water from his chin, Zizlon replied,

“It’s fine. By the way, is your shoulder really okay?”

“It’ll bruise, but when has bruising during training been new?”

“Still, let me know if it’s bad.”

“It’s fine. The real pain is the wound to my pride from losing to you. You should slack off on training a bit. Most people find moving a chore, so why are you like this? I’m exhausted just keeping up with you.”

“I like sweating.” Zizlon answered brightly.

“Gods, what a brute hobby…”

Ade trailed off, glancing at Zizlon’s body. His smiling eyes, as if asking what was up, led to a chiseled jaw and a muscular torso that stood out proudly. It was a physique more rugged than most soldiers’. Ade silently marveled. They trained about the same amount, so how was his body like that?

Then it happened. Staring at the sweat dripping down Zizlon’s chest, Ade impulsively placed his hand on it. Zizlon’s eyes widened in shock.

“Huh?”

“Does everything you eat go to your chest? Why’s it so developed…?”

Before he could finish groping, Zizlon kicked him away. Ade tumbled to the ground, covered in dirt. Zizlon, cheeks flushed, glared at him, but Ade casually brushed off the dust and stood.

“Now I’m filthy. Damn it, I was already sweaty, and now this.”

Ignoring his own actions, Ade grumbled.

“You brought it on yourself. You’re probably the only one who’d dare touch a royal like that.”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist that fine physique.”

“…Watch your mouth.”

“Haha.”

Their childish banter paused as they both fell silent, gazing blankly at the blazing sun.

“Man, the training ground’s sizzling. Some rain would be nice.”

“No clouds in sight, though. The breeze is decent, but the sun’s too hot.”

“It’s when the sun’s at its peak. Normally, we’d be resting by now, but I forgot because our spar dragged on.”

“Yeah, I lost track of time, too.”

“And whenever you show up, training gets intense, so the soldiers are probably cursing us inwardly.”

“Huh? Really?”

Instead of answering, Ade playfully asked a nearby young soldier, who panicked and waved his hands. Zizlon and Ade chuckled. Shaking his head as if exasperated, Zizlon said,

“Don’t mind this guy; he speaks without thinking. Sir Villeneuve, rein in that mischief. Those jokes are fun for you, but they scare the men.”

“How would you know, Your Highness? You’ve never been a subordinate.”

“I know because I’ve been scolded plenty by His Majesty.”

“That’s not being a subordinate; that’s just being a naughty son.”

“And most of those scoldings were because of you. You call me immature? What does that make you?”

“A troublemaker. Father says all his gray hairs are my fault.”

Zizlon burst out laughing at Ade’s cheeky reply.

“Hahaha. Duke Villeneuve has his hands full with you.”

A seasoned guard, overhearing, chimed in mockingly.

“You know, Your Highness? Ninety percent of the captain’s troubles are romantic.”

“What’s that, butting in?” Ade shot the soldier a sharp look.

“The captain needs a scolding. A grown man stirring up trouble everywhere—what’s that about?”

“You think you know my love life?”

As the topic veered toward a lecture, Ade tried to silence the soldier, but it was too late. Zizlon was already looking at him with a sour expression.

“Time to stop. Even with a good family, who’d marry a man with a messy past? I hear the duke’s working hard to find you a match. Don’t you feel guilty?”

Ade pouted at Zizlon’s nagging.

“I haven’t done anything bad. I’m just dating people who like me—what’s wrong with that? And I’ve decided not to marry. I’m not obligated to carry on the Villeneuve line. What’s the point of being the youngest son of a good family if I don’t enjoy my freedom?”

“Even setting marriage aside, your problem is you don’t stick to proper relationships. Like last time—why mess with a married woman?”

“Your Highness, people will misunderstand. I’ve never touched someone with a living husband. And when they keep calling me cute, what am I supposed to do? A handsome guy like me should be shared fairly.”

“No living husbands? Then what was that tavern brawl about?”

“Ugh, that was a mistake… I thought they were father and daughter because of the age gap.”

“A mistake? I heard you tried to charm her, asking if she didn’t want to meet a fresh young man.”

“Urgh…!”

As the conversation turned against Ade, he suddenly clutched his shoulder in pain. The tactic worked like a charm. As he grimaced, Zizlon, alarmed, forgot his lecture and rushed to him.

“What’s wrong? Is your shoulder acting up? I knew I hit you too hard.”

“Ugh… my shoulder…”

“Let me see.”

Zizlon leaned in with a serious expression. In that moment, Ade grabbed Zizlon’s chest.

Squish.

“Gotcha.”

“…….”

“You let your guard down, didn’t you?”

“…….”

Zizlon, staring silently at Ade’s smug face, turned toward the soldiers.

“…Huh? What’s that?”

Without a word, the soldiers, reading Zizlon’s intent in his eyes, began to stand. Ade looked bewildered as they slowly closed in. Then, they rushed forward, grabbing his limbs and lifting him into the air.

“Argh!”

“Let’s dunk the captain in the pond!”

“Woo!”

“Let me go!!”

The excited soldiers shouted ‘Waa—’ and carried Ade toward the pond like the wind. He thrashed and yelled, but he couldn’t overcome their numbers.

Under Zizlon’s protection, the soldiers reached the pond and unceremoniously tossed Ade into the water. Splash! A huge wave rose, matching Ade’s size.

“Aaagh!”

“Woo!”

Zizlon watched with a pleased smile as the soldiers high-fived in celebration.

“Gods, even my underwear’s soaked.”

Climbing out of the pond and returning to the tree, Ade grumbled, looking at his dripping pants. Aside from the shirt he’d removed before training, his clothes were ruined.

“How am I supposed to get back to my quarters like this?”

“It’s just a short walk,” Zizlon said with a carefree grin.

“Still, I’ve got noble dignity to uphold. You expect me to drip water all the way?”

“Call a servant to bring you something.”

“And who’s going to fetch the servant?”

The soldiers had returned to the training ground for afternoon practice. Zizlon, not obligated to train, and Ade, using his captain’s privilege, stayed under the tree. Alone, their demeanor naturally relaxed.

“You look perfect as a drenched rat. Heh heh heh.”

Zizlon couldn’t hold back his laughter, covering his mouth. Ade clicked his tongue, annoyed. Fine, laugh all you want.

“You’re loving this. I’m not going back like this, so I’ll dry off in the sun. You’re the one who got me dunked, so you’re staying until I’m dry.”

“That’ll take forever.”

“It’ll dry quick. The sun’s less intense now, but it’s still hot. I’m not drying completely—just enough so I’m not dripping.”

“Alright.”

Zizlon, too kind to refuse, nodded easily. When stubborn Ade met soft-hearted Zizlon, things usually went Ade’s way. To dry faster, they moved from the shade to a sunnier spot, facing the palace with the training ground behind them.

Like laundry drying in the warm sun, they sat idly under the sunlight. With no worries, their minds relaxed, and they felt dreamy.

Then, Ade, staring blankly at the palace spire, murmured,

“I wonder how the princess locked in the tower is doing.”

Zizlon, lost in thought, turned to Ade.

“What do you mean?”

Ade kept looking at the tower. Pointing in that direction, he answered Zizlon’s question.

“That’s where the queen’s room is.”

“I see.”

Zizlon realized he didn’t even know where the queen stayed and looked at the tower. Against a clear sky and fluffy clouds, the tower’s upper section stood silently, like a lonely island. Ade continued,

“That’s the tower. She’s been holed up there for almost a month, like a princess locked in a tower, don’t you think?”

“Holed up?”

Zizlon turned, hearing this for the first time. Ade shrugged, still gazing at the tower.

“For some reason, she barely comes out of her room. His Majesty’s quite worried.”

Zizlon was inwardly shocked by this new information. Then he realized he knew nothing about the queen’s recent activities. He’d been busy, but the fact that he hadn’t spared a thought for the queen, now family, was jarring. He was disappointed in his own indifference.

Guilt and responsibility flooded in. Zizlon sat up, listening more intently. Ade glanced at him, curious about what the prince was up to.

“She’s staying in her room for no reason? Is something troubling her?”

Zizlon’s face looked serious as he asked if something was wrong.

“I don’t know.”

Ade, unlike Zizlon, was indifferent, not one to fuss over someone he wasn’t close to. Zizlon, frustrated by Ade’s nonchalance about such a troubling matter, pressed him.

“Tell me more. What did His Majesty say?”

Unlike Zizlon, who held a mostly honorary role, Ade, as a hands-on captain, often worked near the king. At Zizlon’s insistence, Ade reluctantly recalled what the king had said about the queen.

“Well… he’s worried, but he said to give the queen time to adjust and leave her be for now. I hear her meals are brought to her room by a servant. You know, right? You always dine with His Majesty.”

“…….”

Zizlon’s jaw dropped in shock. Ade snorted, used to his friend’s dramatics. Zizlon tended to overreact to personal matters despite his royal status. Expecting him to brood, Ade leaned back with his hands behind his head. Sure enough, Zizlon was soon lost in thought, chin in hand.

Zizlon realized it was true. He made a point to dine with family despite his busy schedule, sharing nearly every dinner with the king. Yet, in all that time, he hadn’t once seen the queen at the table. To only realize this now! Zizlon was deeply disappointed in himself.

“How could I…” Zizlon muttered, his voice heavy with self-reproach. Ade, who had closed his eyes for a nap, glanced at him. Unable to watch his friend wallow, Ade suggested halfheartedly,

“If it bothers you, ask His Majesty at dinner tonight. Or go visit the queen’s room yourself.”

Zizlon snapped out of his thoughts at Ade’s suggestion, his face lighting up as if to say, ‘That’s a great idea.’ Ade, already losing interest, closed his eyes again.

“Yeah, I should. I’ll talk to His Majesty tonight.”

Zizlon clenched his fist with determination. Beside him, Ade began snoring, ‘Zzz.’

*

That evening, at the dinner table.

The King of Yonaras and his son met in the dining room. True to their reputation for close familial bonds, they embraced warmly upon meeting.

“Anything noteworthy today?”

“All was calm.”

After their warm greetings, the father and son sat at the table, and the servants began setting out the meal. While waiting for the food, they briefly discussed matters of state. The king, viewing his son not only as a beloved child but also as his most trusted advisor, always sought his opinions on political matters before meals.

After a short conversation, the meal was fully served. The prince, pouring wine and exchanging a light nod with the departing servant, quenched his parched throat after a day of sweating. The king took a portion of roasted duck to his plate and began slicing it. A brief exchange of small talk followed.

“Try some of the duck. I heard the chef obtained a Komnena recipe and tried a new preparation method.”

The king placed a piece of duck in his mouth, savoring it slowly.

“It’s distinctive. There’s a grassy scent.”

The chef standing nearby stepped forward and explained.

“In Komnena, they roast meat with fragrant flowers.”

“Then this must be the scent of flowers, not grass.”

The mention of Komnena was timely. The prince had planned to ask about the queen’s well-being before the meal. He glanced at the empty seat and the firmly closed door. As expected, there was no sign of the queen joining them for dinner.

Following the king’s suggestion, the prince tried a bite of the duck. It was decent enough. Though it was foreign cuisine, the flavor wasn’t drastically different, just a bit unique. More than the taste, the prince was curious about why the chef had tried a new recipe. Could it be to comfort the reclusive queen?

“Your Majesty, I have a question.”

“Yes? What is it?”

“How has the queen been lately? I haven’t seen her at all.”

“…….”

At the mention of the queen, the king’s expression darkened slightly.

“So you’ve heard about it too.”

“Heard what?”

Instead of answering immediately, the king signaled to the waiting servants with his eyes. Understanding the command to leave, the servants quickly filed out of the room. Only when he and the prince were alone did the king speak.

“Well, it seems the queen may be suffering from melancholy.”

“…I see.”

The situation was more serious than expected, and the prince let out a small groan.

“Do you know the cause?”

“Likely homesickness. Leaving the country where she spent her whole life must make adjustment difficult. I’ve been trying various things to ease her mind, like having her homeland’s dishes prepared.”

“So her meals are brought to her room?”

“Yes. I considered calling her out a few times, but her expression was so poor—or rather, I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Perhaps it’s the age difference.”

“Have you visited her yourself?”

“I called on her once or twice, but since then, I’ve had servants check on her.”

“Still, Your Majesty should visit her often. Isn’t she the only one she can rely on here?”

The prince spoke with a wry smile, lightly chiding. The king, however, adopted a firm expression.

“I am the king and busy with affairs of state. I cannot keep attending to such personal matters.”

“Even so…”

The prince swallowed the words that the queen was too pitiable. Convincing the king on family matters while maintaining a vassal’s decorum was incredibly difficult. Pretending to eat, the prince pondered how to express his thoughts tactfully.

Then, a good idea struck him, and he looked up.

“Then how about at least allowing her to go outside? Staying confined in the palace must be stifling.”

“By palace law, the queen cannot leave without reason.”

“But if Your Majesty permits it, isn’t it possible?”

The king frowned, clearly worried at the mere thought.

“What if something happens to the delicate queen if I let her out carelessly?”

“Of course, she’d have an escort.”

“Even so, it’s risky. I won’t allow it unless I’m personally by her side.”

“Then how about this? I’ll lead the soldiers myself to guard her. If Your Majesty can’t accompany her, I’ll protect her with my life.”

The proposal seemed persuasive enough that the king set down his fork and fell into deep thought. But in the end, he shook his head.

Convincing the king seemed impossible. His father was always sensitive to palace protocol and rarely budged once decided, so this was somewhat expected. Hiding his disappointment, the prince focused on his meal again.

But a moment later, as the plates were nearly empty, the king made a suggestion.

“Why don’t you look after the queen a bit? She’s your stepmother, after all.”

“Me? I was planning to, but…”

The idea of a man younger than himself as a stepmother made the prince trail off, feeling a sense of dissonance. Having finished his meal, the king set down his fork, clearly inspired by his own idea, and continued more eagerly.

“Being older, I struggle to understand what the queen is thinking. But you’re close to her age, so you might connect better. Visit her, talk, and find out what’s on her mind.”

“I was actually already planning to do that.”

“Good thinking. I’m too busy to spend time on such things. Take care of it for me.”

“Yes, as you command.”

The prince nodded and continued his meal. After the king left the table, the prince resolved to visit the queen the very next day.

*

A dream just out of reach, tantalizingly close, was far harder to endure than an impossible one. Living in the same space as the man he’d fallen in love with for the first time, thanks to fate’s cruel jest, Aion’s heart burned uncontrollably.

The fact that he could see ‘that person’ at any moment kept Aion perpetually on edge. In moments of distraction, his subconscious urged him toward the prince, and he had to grip his rationality tightly to avoid rushing out of his room like someone possessed.

Yet no one noticed the subtle changes in his emotional turmoil. Zizlon had no idea he was keeping the queen awake at night, and even the King of Yonaras failed to detect his spouse’s secret shifts. Only Pym, the loyal servant, vaguely sensed something amiss in his master, though he only found it suspicious and didn’t know the exact reason. Nor did he want to.

Standing by the queen, who stared silently out the window, Pym was often gripped by an unsettling feeling that made him tremble. It was an inexplicable, irrational anxiety he dared not guess at. A persistent, unreasonable premonition of some great misfortune approaching tormented him. In those moments, Pym felt an intense urge to pull the quietly sitting queen away from the window.

*

Nearly a month had passed since the queen began secluding himself in his room, staring out the window. Pym’s anxiety was reaching its peak.

“Your Highness, why not go for a walk? Just to the garden—wouldn’t that be alright?”

“Not interested.”

“Then do something else. If you don’t want to go out, why keep staring out the window?”

“…….”

The queen didn’t answer. His heart was the kind to be kept and buried alone. Even to Pym, who had been by his side since childhood, he didn’t confess his feelings. He was confident he could kill his emotions alone, though it would take time. But for that, he had to avoid encountering that person for now. To eliminate even the slightest chance of meeting him, the queen locked himself in his room. To kill his feelings completely, without a trace.

“Ugh, I can’t stand this!”

In frustration, Pym pounded his chest. Inwardly, he fumed. He hadn’t expected this kind of life when he followed his master to a great kingdom! What a wretched fate! The other servants watched the queen and Pym cautiously, holding their breath.

Then, a servant who had been absent approached and whispered to Pym to step outside.

“What’s the matter?”

Pym opened the door irritably and exchanged a few words with someone there. The queen, indifferent, continued staring out the window.

“Um, Your Highness.”

Pym returned, his tone now cautious, unlike before. Clasping his hands, he spoke hesitantly.

“His Majesty sent a gift.”

It wasn’t unusual. The queen gave his usual response.

“Put it on the table. I’ll look at it later.”

But for some reason, Pym, who usually complied without issue, hesitated and didn’t leave.

“Well… you should see it now.”

“What? Why do I need to see it now?”

“It’s just, um…”

At that moment, an unexpected voice came from outside the door.

“Your Highness? Are you there?”

Recognizing the voice, the queen instinctively leapt from his seat.

*

“I was thinking that day I needed to spruce up. So I got ready outside the palace, and who should I meet but Your Highness? People’s instincts are something else, aren’t they?”

The cheerful prince and the tight-lipped queen sat across a table.

The king’s gift was a simple animal fur, but the one delivering it was far from ordinary. Who would have thought the busy prince would personally bring a gift without warning? The servants must have been startled. Not as much as the queen, though.

Beyond dismay, the queen felt fear. For the calculating Aion, the prince’s unpredictable actions were near terrifying. Had he known, he would have told the servants to keep his presence quiet. But by the time he realized the prince was there, the prince had already noticed him, leaving no choice but to invite him in. He couldn’t turn away the crown prince who had come bearing a gift.

Afraid his barely tamed heart would run wild, the queen couldn’t even look at the prince’s face. Meanwhile, the oblivious prince continued chatting amiably, undeterred by the queen’s silence.

To the prince, their unexpected encounter that day seemed merely a fond memory. The moment they sat down, he eagerly brought it up, saying it was fun and promising to keep it a secret. Aion was dumbfounded. Could the prince imagine that for someone else, that meeting was terrifying enough to never want to recall?

“When I saw Your Highness’s face at the wedding, I was truly shocked. But don’t worry, no one caught us. And it seems you made it back safely without being noticed, right?”

The queen, head bowed, could only see up to the prince’s chest. But even without meeting his eyes, his heart was already trembling. Ignoring the conversation, Aion blankly observed him. The prince tapped the glass in his hand with steady fingers. Though not in armor, he wore the same red cloak as that day, which suited his broad shoulders strikingly well.

“Your Highness?”

Noticing the lack of response, Zizlon called out curiously.

“Oh, yes. I’m listening.”

The queen hastily replied, sipping her wine. Watching closely, Zizlon smiled to himself.

‘She seems nervous.’

Having heard of the king’s concerns at dinner the previous night, Zizlon had worried all evening. Was the queen crying because she disliked the marriage? Was her silence due to severe melancholy or even muteness?

The king had said she was naturally taciturn. Befriending someone who disliked him and spoke little was no easy task. Even Zizlon had been quite nervous before the visit.

But the queen in person was quite different from expected. Rather than withholding words out of dislike, she seemed preoccupied with complex thoughts. When Zizlon sought a response, she replied awkwardly, and when snapped out of her distraction, she showed a slightly clumsy surprise. Her tense, awkward sips of wine were…

‘I shouldn’t think this, but… she’s cute.’

Oblivious to the queen’s inner thoughts, Zizlon found her awkward demeanor charming. Any initial barriers in his mind crumbled instantly. With his heart at ease, compassion naturally followed.

‘Her unique appearance might make people prejudiced. But really, she’s just a young person.’

With that thought, the beautiful queen across from him began to feel oddly familiar. Didn’t they say the age gap was small? If his late mother had given him a younger sibling, this might be how it felt. He’d wanted a sibling as a child.

‘Right, think of her as a younger sibling, not a stepmother. We’re family now, after all.’

Zizlon continued.

“Anyway, I’m sorry for not paying you more attention as family. I came to build some rapport from now on, but I hope I’m not being too much of a nuisance.”

“No, not at all…”

Aion shook his head, keeping it bowed. Seeing the queen’s drooping head, Zizlon gave a wry smile.

‘Better stop here. I’m curious, but with her so tense, it’ll be hard to hear her true feelings. First, we need to break down the walls. Getting close can’t be rushed…’

He decided to treat this first visit as reconnaissance. The queen’s condition didn’t seem as bad as feared, which was a relief. If she was just scared of the new environment, time and effort could help her adjust. To Zizlon, the future looked bright.

As he picked up the sword leaning against the table, the queen’s head lifted slightly. Her obvious desire for him to leave made Zizlon stifle a laugh.

“I dropped by while attending other duties, so I’ll take my leave. It was a bit sudden, after all.”

“Oh…”

As Zizlon rose, Aion’s body instinctively stirred. Catching himself feeling reluctant, Aion inwardly scolded himself.

Strapping his sword back to his belt, Zizlon walked toward the door. Aion followed slowly, but just before opening it, Zizlon stopped.

“Is there anything troubling you?”

“…….”

Aion bit back the wish that he wouldn’t visit again.

“Nothing. Thanks to His Majesty’s care…”

It was exactly the response Zizlon expected. He gave a knowing, wry smile.

“And the meals? Are they to your taste?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You there, you’re the queen’s servant, right? Pym, was it?”

Finding the queen’s reply perfunctory, Zizlon immediately turned to the servant. Pym, waiting quietly in the corner, hurriedly bowed.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Is it true Her Highness has no complaints?”

“Y-yes…”

“Hm, good enough.”

Confirming with the servant, Zizlon nodded. A close servant, sensitive to their master’s discomfort, was unlikely to yield more honest answers. Turning back to the queen, Zizlon spoke. Pym returned to his corner, looking annoyed at being startled over nothing.

“Then, Your Highness, would you join us for dinner?”

“What?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected suggestion, the queen couldn’t hide her surprise. She looked up, meeting Zizlon’s eyes. Seizing the moment, Zizlon gave a gentle smile. Aion felt pinned, unable to look away. His voice trembled slightly.

“Oh…”

“I heard you dine alone in your room.”

“…I’m sorry. It’s not that I find dining together uncomfortable…”

“No blame here, it’s fine. It’s just that the servants must struggle carrying food up the tower, and it probably gets cold. His Majesty even ordered Komnena recipes for you, but you’re eating cold food, which is a pity. What do you say? Our chefs are quite skilled.”

“…….”

The queen fell silent, hesitant to refuse out of politeness. Seeing her stiff demeanor, Zizlon felt a pang of guilt. Had he pushed too far? But he wanted her to adjust to palace life and enjoy her privileges as queen. The inner court had been empty too long, and it needed a vibrant new master.

“I’m not insisting. Come when you’re ready.”

A beat later, Zizlon spoke generously. But the queen, after a moment’s thought, nodded.

“Alright. If it’s… His Majesty’s wish…”

“No need to force yourself. There’s plenty of time.”

“It’s not that.”

“Is it? Then I’ll leave with peace of mind.”

Brightening, Zizlon moved. As a servant opened the door, he stepped out and bowed courteously to the queen.

“See you at dinner, Your Highness. I look forward to getting to know you.”

With that, the door closed.

“…….”

“Your Highness? Are you alright?”

Seeing the queen standing blankly before the closed door, Pym approached curiously. The queen pushed him aside and glided back into the room like a ghost.