In the carriage rolling back toward the imperial palace, Luan had buried himself deep into a corner of the seat. His head rested against the window frame, his eyes half-closed.
Finally, I can breathe.
The showdown with the god had been a success. The latest measure from that oddly sloppy god, who’d botched the output adjustment, was solid this time. The searing heat and pain that had flowed through his veins had vanished as if washed away.
I don’t want to do anything.
What filled that emptiness, though, was an enormous lethargy. The kind of state that comes after a storm has passed, you might say. He didn’t want to lift a single finger. He felt so leaden that he wished someone could even breathe for him. This time it wasn’t illness. It was just sheer can’t-be-bothered-ness rising up.
And things went well with Aiden, I think.
The meeting between Kirian and Aiden had been a success(?) too. Seeing how intensely the two were aware of each other, he figured destined partners really were destined partners. The way Aiden hadn’t been able to take his eyes off Kirian at the end suggested their talk in the waiting room had gone well. (He’d only been ticked off, but Luan—absent from the scene—had no way of knowing.)
What did nag at him was Kirian’s behavior, coming into the purification chamber and suddenly pulling him into an embrace…
Too much of a bother to think about.
The fact that he’d come in place of Aiden because he hated seeing the boy do menial work was a success in itself. How could I possibly fathom that tangled-up head of his? Luan let his eyes slide shut and surrendered his whole body to gravity. On the way back he’d at least given up the human-seatbelt routine—and that alone was proof that meeting Aiden had gone well.
Of course, in the eyes of Kirian sitting across from him, that serene languor was being interpreted in an entirely different way.
“…”
Pretending to look out the window, Kirian was watching Luan from the corner of his eye. A deep crease was set between his brows.
…He’s gone limp.
The scene he’d witnessed in the purification chamber was branded into his mind and wouldn’t leave. The pale skin showing through translucently, soaked with water, the protruding ridges of bone. And the dark-red bloodstain. It had all been far too precarious for something belonging to a living person.
He was also wary of himself, of what he might do to such a sick man. That was why, on the way back, he hadn’t held to the same seat as before. If he kept Luan in his arms, he really felt he might do something terrible.
He looks like his breath could stop at any moment.
Kirian clenched his fist. The lifeless sight grated on him. The man was of Requies blood. Someone he ought rightly to guard against—so why did his chest ache in one corner whenever he saw him resting his eyes so feebly?
If it’s hard, he should just say it’s hard. Stubborn fool.
Kirian clicked his tongue. Even if Luan made a habit of talking about divorce and acting like a stranger, the least he could do was show when he was in pain. That stubbornness looked foolish and pitiful.
He picked up the thick blanket sitting on the seat beside him. The empress was driving him to distraction, but if he acted on it, this confusing new feeling he himself couldn’t make sense of might be exposed. It wasn’t time to reveal it yet. For now, getting found out by a man who treated him like a roadside pebble was a blow to his pride.
But leaving Luan be didn’t sit right—those pale lips of his nagged at him. After a moment’s hesitation, Kirian tossed the blanket onto Luan’s lap.
“…?”
Luan lifted his eyelids slowly. Unfocused eyes turned toward Kirian. It frustrated him that Luan wouldn’t let on, hiding it even when he was too unwell to so much as look after himself.
“Cover up. It’ll be a headache if you catch a cold.”
Kirian snapped at him with a put-on coldness. If you get sick, it becomes my problem. His tone said that, but his eyes were carefully scanning whether the blanket properly reached Luan’s shoulders, whether his toes were poking out.
“Thank you.”
Luan pulled the blanket up haphazardly to his neck, his mood lifting at the warm, soft texture. Holy water or not, soaking in it had left his body cold, and this was just right.
He did have a bit of a tsundere streak.
That streak was the very reason he’d gotten close with Aiden, too. Once Kirian designated someone as his own, he looked after them while pretending he wasn’t—that was the kind of man he was. A surefire sucker of a personality, Luan thought, and yet being taken care of like this wasn’t bad.
Yeah, he really is a bit of a soft touch underneath.
Luan thought as he closed his eyes again. That sucker streak ran deep enough to look after a spouse he hadn’t glanced at in five years. Well—it made things comfortable for now, so no harm done. I should ask for a little extra alimony later.
Mulling over this and that, they arrived at the emperor’s residence. A sigh escaped him on its own at the way he was naturally dragged along too.
“Get up.”
“…Yes.”
Luan rubbed his eyes and pushed himself upright. Maybe because he’d rested too thoroughly, or maybe because the tension had drained out of him. The moment he rose from his seat, he missed his footing.
“Ngh.”
His body lurched. Just as he was about to pitch forward onto the floor—
Tak. A firm, hot hand caught Luan’s arm. It was Kirian. Incredible reflexes.
“Careful.”
A short, low voice. Normally he’d have tossed in some snide remark, but apparently he went easier on a patient who’d recently been bedridden, Luan thought blankly. Could you ease up on the grip, though. The hand clutching Luan’s arm had an odd amount of strength in it, enough that his bones ached.
“…Sorry. I missed my step.”
“What are you all doing! Standing around gawking instead of supporting him!”
Upset that Luan couldn’t even walk properly, Kirian needlessly bellowed at the servants. The chamberlain waiting outside the carriage went ashen and started to rush over. But Kirian stopped him with his other hand, heaving a heavy sigh.
“Never mind. So slow, honestly.”
Kirian draped Luan’s arm over his own shoulder and braced his waist firmly with the other hand, supporting him. He didn’t scoop him up and carry him as he had at the start, but for the emperor to support someone himself was itself a first-time event.
So tall!
With his arm slung over the shoulder of the tall Kirian, Luan was, quite literally, being dragged along. And whether that was bad—no, it wasn’t. He didn’t have to walk properly on his own two feet; somehow he was walked along regardless. The shoulder, broader than expected, was hard but worked perfectly well as a support.
“Can you walk?”
Kirian asked close to his ear. It was a voice mixed with worry and irritation. Tickling my ear, talking right into it like that.
“It’s not like I’m hurt.”
“Don’t overdo it. Don’t go collapsing and bringing shame on the imperial house.”
His usual tone’s back. Luan thought vacantly. This was less of a burden and more to his liking.
But unlike the thorny words, Kirian’s gait matched Luan’s stride, slow and careful. Each time they climbed a stair, he could feel the hand at his waist tighten. A small laugh slipped out.
He’s got better manners than I expected. Soft on patients, is he? I can’t wait to see how devotedly he’ll dote on Aiden.
To anyone watching, the two passing through the corridor looked the very picture of a loving couple, but Luan’s head was already contaminated with the original-work filter. The servants merely bowed their heads while stealing sidelong glances at the strange spectacle.
A little later, laid down on the bed, Luan exhaled slowly at the sheer comfort of it. Turning his head, he saw the door leading to the emperor’s chamber still standing open. If I could just block off that door, I’d have nothing left to envy in the world. He won’t do it for me, though.
Luan closed his eyes. The mattress was so plush his body felt like it might melt into it. He wanted to sleep like this until morning—no, until the divorce cooling-off period ended.
What woke Luan, who’d dozed straight off, was the servants bringing in his evening meal.
“It’s mealtime.”
He had no idea when he’d slept so deeply. When he opened his eyes, trays came filing in one after another, servants bearing silver platters trailing in a line. His brow furrowed at once. Are they going to torture me with food again?
The smell was incredible, of course. Enough to make his mouth water. But Luan just blinked, staring at the table. He couldn’t be bothered. Today, thanks to a detox that had actually functioned properly, his body felt fine and he wasn’t hungry. He pictured the whole process of eating that meal in his head.
To eat that…
I’d have to sit up. Can’t be bothered. I’d have to cut the meat, put it in my mouth, chew it. Just imagining it was exhausting.
Luan’s expression darkened sharply. He was a man for whom everything was a bother to begin with, but today was extra bothersome. He wasn’t even hungry—it wasn’t a hassle worth enduring. That steak especially. It looked delicious, but to chew and swallow it he’d have to work his jaw. Exhausting just to think about.
“…I have no appetite. Just take it away, please.”
Luan pulled the blanket back over his head. He just wanted to sleep more.
“You haven’t had a single proper meal all day!”
“I just want to sle—I mean, my stomach’s upset.”
Just as the chamberlain was wringing his hands, at a loss—
“What’s all this commotion?”
Kirian, who’d gone to handle business in the next room, came into the bedchamber. I really need to block off that blasted door. In somewhat more relaxed attire, he’d apparently rushed over mid-paperwork at the noise. The chamberlain scurried up to tattle.
“His Majesty the Empress is refusing to eat.”
“Refusing?”
Kirian’s eyebrow twitched. He strode over to the bedside and looked down at the rolled-up ball of blanket.
“Empress, get up.”
“I’m not eating. I’m not hungry.”
“Don’t lie.”
Without hesitation, Kirian yanked the blanket away. Luan’s figure, curled up inside, was revealed.
The thin body lying hunched, the pale face. To Kirian’s eyes, it didn’t look like Luan was simply refusing food out of defiance. He looked like a terminal patient who’d lost even his appetite, too worn even to draw breath, who’d let go of the will to live.
Is he trying to actually starve himself to death like this? …Does he not even have the will to live?
Kirian loosened his collar in frustration. His insides were burning. He had to make him eat, even by force.
“Everyone out.”
“Pardon?”
“I said get out. I’ll handle this myself.”
At the emperor’s grim command, the servants withdrew as if fleeing. Only the two of them were left in the room. Kirian dragged a chair over and sat at the bedside. Then he picked up the bowl of soup.
“Sit up.”
“No.”
“Eat.”
“I don’t want to lift a single finger.”
Luan retorted in an irritated voice. He meant it. He begrudged even the strength to hold a spoon.
“…Hah.”
Kirian let out a short sigh. Doesn’t want to lift a finger. How drained of strength must he be to say such a thing? As if resolving himself to something, he picked up the spoon.
“Then don’t use your hands. Just open your mouth.”
“…What?”
Luan opened his eyes. Kirian had scooped up some soup and was blowing on it to cool it. This looks familiar. Harkan, was it… It was hard to believe the emperor was waiting on him right in front of his eyes. He had to be seeing things.
“Your Majesty. What are you doing right now?”
“You said you wouldn’t eat. Said you didn’t want to use your hands.”
“Even so, for the emperor to do it himself—”
“If you starve to death, it’ll cause a racket, that’s why. So no backtalk. Open your mouth.”
Kirian made political reasons his excuse. But the hand holding the spoon hovered at Luan’s lips, precise yet careful. The other hand, held underneath to keep it from spilling, moved so deftly you’d never guess he’d never nursed anyone before.
Luan was dumbfounded. But lifting his arm to snatch the spoon and feed himself was far too much trouble.
Right, I’m still the empress, so it’d be inconvenient if I starved to death. Having scanned Kirian’s circumstances, Luan opened his mouth wide with a soulless expression. Like a baby bird waiting for its mother. Kirian faltered for a moment, then slipped the soup neatly into his mouth.
“…”
Watching Luan chew and swallow, Kirian felt a strange relief. The trace of soup at the corner of his lips bothered him. He wanted to wipe it away with his thumb. But he held back. Instead he tossed over a napkin and said indifferently,
“You’ve got some on you. Wipe it.”
While Luanisiel dabbed roughly at his mouth, Kirian’s gaze turned to the steak plate. Luan’s eyes followed it.
I do want to eat. I just don’t want to chew. Kirian picked up the knife.
It’ll be too tough to chew. But he had to get some meat into him. There was no way thin soup alone would restore his strength. After some thought, Kirian pulled the steak plate toward himself. Then he began cutting the meat very fine, almost mincing it.
Clink, clink.
In the still room, only the sound of knife meeting plate rang out. The emperor’s swordsmanship was being spent on mincing a steak down to baby-food consistency.
Kirian’s expression was serious. As though reviewing documents on which the fate of the nation hung, he studied the grain of the meat, picking out the tough parts and selecting only the tender cuts.
“Here.”
Kirian held out a small piece of meat speared on the fork.
“Don’t chew, just let it dissolve. Choking would be a problem.”
How do you let meat dissolve? Thinking it absurd, Luan took it anyway. But, surprisingly, it melted away in his mouth—it really was the dissolving kind. Beef, huh.
He’s more meticulous than I’d have thought. Aiden’s a lucky one.
Luan thought. Aiden was kind and adorable, so he deserved this kind of treatment, sure.
…I won’t let him die.
Kirian thought. How little strength must he have, that he can’t even cut his own meat… The only one who’d look out for him was Kirian himself.
“What a bother you are.”
Hurry up and eat. He acted gruff, but Kirian’s hand never stopped. Until the plate was empty, the emperor’s clumsy nursing went on.
