The sun had gone down, but there were still a few hours left before midnight when I made my way up the tower stairs once again. I softly opened the door at the top, doing my best not to make a sound as I approached the bed. The roses I’d brought earlier that day had been placed in a vase on the nightstand. Noting their presence with a complicated tangle of emotions, I gazed down at Lord Heinreid’s sleeping face. I’d seen it countless times before, ever since he’d ordered me to give him wake-up calls so long ago. As always, his expression was calm, and his breathing was soft and steady.
Looking at him like this, it was hard to believe his claim that he was troubled by nightmares. In all the nights I’d shared his bed and all the days I’d watched him sleep, I’d never once seen him toss and turn—never once heard him cry out as he dreamed.
That said, I was freshly aware of how much of a fool I’d become of late, and I couldn’t discount the possibility that I’d overlooked some small irregularity or other. Maybe he was sweating more, or his pulse was elevated, or something of that nature. I hesitated briefly, but I decided I ought to check. I reached my hand down to his neck. However, his skin was smooth and dry as I slid my fingers across his throat to find a blood vessel, and his pulse was perfectly normal. I cocked my head in thought. If he wasn’t having a nightmare right now, then that was welcome news, but I didn’t imagine he had them every single night.
In response to my probing at the base of his neck, he gave a quiet groan and stirred slightly. Had I woken him? It’d be well-timed for having a conversation, but so soon after the events of the afternoon, I felt a touch awkward. Wanting to give him an apology as soon as he woke, I searched for the right words as I watched his long eyelashes twitch and his eyelids slowly open. But the instant his opened eyes met mine, goose bumps rose all across my body, and the apology I’d been crafting in my head scattered to the winds.
There, gazing up at me—mud-flecked, devoid of warmth—was the scarlet hue of blood.
My heart pounded loud in my chest like an alarm bell. The hand I’d placed on his neck moved almost unconsciously to the sword at my hip. But the moment my fingers grasped the hilt, he blinked. The red that reappeared reflected my own figure back at me, and the bone-chilling air dispersed as he softly smiled.
“Good morning, Craig,” he said blearily.
“Good morning, Your Lordship,” I replied after a pause.
I lowered my now-aimless hand. Somehow, I managed to keep my voice steady and natural as I parroted his greeting back at him, but my heartbeat was still ringing in my ears. Those eyes just now had been far too familiar to dismiss as a mere trick of the mind.
“Getting ‘His Grace’ to show you such vulnerability is certainly no easy feat.”
“There’s always a chance something could turn him back into a monster all of a sudden.”
Karl’s and Her Majesty’s words, fresh in my memory, replayed themselves in my head. Just now, I’d caught a glimpse of that possibility myself; I recalled what I’d been about to do, and cold sweat ran down my back. If that scene had continued, even for just a few more seconds...what would I have done?
No, calm down. That isn’t what’s happening—at least, not right now.
Fighting off the foreboding chill, I searched for some safe, harmless remark I could use to start a conversation with the just-awoken Lord Heinreid. I deliberately avoided the topic of those strange few seconds.
“Have you been asleep this whole time?” I asked.
“No, I got up for a bit and ate lunch—or dinner, I guess? Oh, and I finished the whole thing. Didn’t throw up at all.”
“Did you, now? I’ll confirm that with Karl Anker later.”
“Oh—uh, actually, I might’ve left a little bit. But I finished more of it than yesterday, I swear... C’mon, don’t glare at me like that.”
I’m glaring at you because you don’t know when to give up. If you’re going to retract your lie that quickly, then just tell me the truth to begin with.
I definitely wasn’t enough of a fool to fall for the same trick twice, though. I continued staring down at him silently, and he slowly sat up in bed, sliding his hips backward to rest his back against the pillows. He opened his mouth with an uncomfortable, embarrassed air.
“Um... Sorry.”
“For what?”
“Y’know, for everything earlier. Getting you mad on purpose because I wanted to distract you—all of that.”
“I would ask that you refrain from such behavior in future, but in that instance, the fault was mine for pushing you too hard. I’m truly sorry.”
Provoked or not, I’d had my way with him while fully aware that he was in poor condition. Calling it foolish would be an understatement.
He’d given his apology first, but when I gave mine in reply, his shoulders slumped in frustration.
“Karl’s one thing, but you’re too perfect in your own way... Anyway, aren’t you going to ask me anything?”
“About those things you wanted to distract me from? If I do, you won’t tell me anything beyond exactly what I ask for, will you? I shall wait for you to tell me everything yourself.”
“That’s how we’re playing it now? Either way, I might not tell you the whole thing, and I might lie about stuff, don’t you think?”
“Do as you please. I’ll judge for myself whether you’ve been honest with me.”
Despite my encouragement, Lord Heinreid remained silent. He seemed to be at a loss. He’d likely been prepared for an interrogation, and he’d planned to play on my emotions and manipulate me once again—he really had no respect for me whatsoever. Faced instead with my unexpected calm, he was left pondering how to respond. I saw him steal a glance at the roses.
I didn’t know whether it had been involuntary or deliberate, but ultimately, when his back was against the wall, those were what he turned to for refuge. I felt a stinging twinge; my heart festered with ugly pus as I took in the reality before me. With a dreary, aggrieved sigh, I decided it was already time to play my trump card. I’d said I would wait, but I had no interest in a battle of attrition.
“Is that it, then?”
My strained voice, that of a man on the verge of tears, was intolerably pathetic. If it had all been an act, then I would still have retained some dignity, but my true feelings were undeniably mixed in as well. I felt a tinge of hatred toward this man for setting me up to suffer such humiliation.
“Am I that undependable? That undeserving of your faith?”
Nevertheless, I couldn’t leave him alone. I endured the shame, giving voice to my pitiful lament. I hadn’t wanted to use this tactic, but I could clearly see that if I tried to keep up appearances, he would only continue ducking and dodging.