Chapter 15: Affection from a Man

Until we left the tent, Krugle couldn’t do anything. He just lay there collapsed, only his mouth silently moving.

If only he had known when to back down, none of this would’ve happened—what a fool.

Now he was blacklisted and would no longer be able to do business with any of the major trading companies in Amusbian.

Well, either way, it worked out.

From a greater perspective, we’d weeded out a fraud, and for him, it was probably better to quit than to go on acting so recklessly.

However.

“Come on, hurry!”

What does this mean for me?

“Yes, yes, I’m coming.”

As I said, he remains one of my worst nightmares.

I’m not lying—sometimes I still have dreams about that day, and whenever I do, I wake up screaming, my bed drenched in cold sweat.

Even when I dream of Ropena escaping or the Demon King being resurrected and piercing my heart, I don’t wake up screaming like that.

“My tent’s this way.”

But if someone asked me if I hated the person at the center of that nightmare, I would shake my head without hesitation.

Why else would I endure the hassle of putting protective wards around my body and bed every night and still not change rooms?

I never hated him.

Like I said, he was like the sun to me, and I respected him.

I also appreciated the affection he showed me, no matter what.

Of course, thinking of that day still gives me goosebumps like the scales of a basilisk.

“Come on in!”

He pulled me into his tent like an innocent girl would.

The atmosphere inside had changed completely since our days in the dormitory.

It had been neat and tidy back then too, but still had a rough and masculine feel.

Now, decorated with cute trinkets and warmly colored fabrics, it radiated pure girlish sentiment.

“You still like Antares, right?”

Antares.

The first wine I ever tasted—and the main culprit of that incident.

Ordinarily, it should’ve been something I never touched again.

“…Well, yes.”

I still liked it.

After saving the world, I’d tasted all sorts of wines and liquors at parties and as gifts, but nothing ever matched Antares in flavor, aroma, and smoothness.

“I don’t drink it often, though—it’s pretty expensive.”

It’s not that I don’t have money.

Most of the spoils we acquired were used for rebuilding the Ayman Kingdom, aiding refugees, and other post-war relief.

But I did set aside a significant portion along with Denatel’s workshop.

I hope I don’t come off as too materialistic.

Lowell and the others were never really attached to wealth—most of them already had more than enough to begin with.

Lowell was a noble, Medluf a grand mage, orcan a chieftain, Lauti a saint, Aegina a princess, and Baglos the strongest assassin.

To them, wealth was just a means to an end, like water from a well that never ran dry—provided you didn’t overdraw.

But I was different.

I was born a commoner.

My well had never been full—not once.

So I had to make sure to fill it myself and keep it from drying up.

Anyway, strictly speaking, I could afford to drink Antares every night if I wanted to.

But such high-end wine simply didn’t reach our village.

“Then why don’t you take a few barrels when you go? Consider it a gift.”

It was a genuinely tempting and generous offer—but I decided to refuse.

Barrels, not bottles?

That would’ve been far too shameless.

“No, that’s really not necessary.”

“Why not? Sarthia Kingdom’s harvest was abundant this year, so I got a good deal on some fine Antares. Taking a few barrels won’t make a dent.”

An awkward silence filled the air, thick with shameless desire.

Fine.

No matter how much I deny it, I’m weak to material temptation.

“…Then I’ll gratefully accept.”

“There you go. You don’t turn down sincerity—especially not from me.”

He said that with a gentle, somewhat teasing smile.

Honestly, if I hadn’t already seen him naked—at least not in such a shocking context—I might’ve fallen for that smile.

“Come on, sit.”

He seated me at the table, then went to a cabinet and pulled out some wine glasses and a bottle of Antares.

Well, a few glasses wouldn’t hurt.

My tolerance had improved since back then.

“How long’s it been anyway? Ten years?”

“Thirteen, to be exact. A few years have passed since the Great War ended.”

“Right. And yet not once did you come to see me during all that time?”

Even though I knew it was just a teasing jab, the slight drop in his tone sent a chill of cold sweat down my neck.

“And if we hadn’t met like this, you were just going to leave without saying goodbye, weren’t you?”

“Of course not.”

Can it truly be called a lie when both parties know it’s a lie?

Perhaps it’s better seen as a tacit part of the conversation.

“Right. Of course not.”

He smiled playfully and handed me a glass.

I smiled lightly in return and took it—but as I reached for it, Julian gently caught my wrist.

Startled, I looked up from the glass.

Despite his smiling mouth, his eyes held a hint of loneliness.

“Every year when I came here, I thought about going to see you myself. Your village isn’t that far, after all. But… you hate clingy women, don’t you? Isn’t that right?”

The tenderness in his voice sank into my chest and took my breath away.

How cruel is fate?

That the first person in my life to show me unwavering affection just had to be a man.

“…Please, enough with the jokes. You’re a man, after all.”

I tried to brush it off casually, but even to my ears, it sounded a little cold.

But I had no choice.

In front of those eyes, that voice, and that gentle touch—I didn’t have the composure to choose my words carefully.

“Well, yeah.”

I quickly glanced at his expression.

Fortunately, he smiled and let go of my hand.

But even he couldn’t hide the flicker of emotion in his eyes.

“Besides, you’re popular, aren’t you? With both men and women. You don’t need someone like me.”

“But the only one I want… is you.”

Why, of all people, did someone who says such things have to be a man?

“…By the way, senior, this may sound strange, but why me?”

I still didn’t understand.

Even if I could comprehend same-sex affection—which I honestly couldn’t—his feelings wouldn’t make sense, even if he was a woman.

Why me?

Like I said, I’ve never been popular.

And there’s a good reason for that.

Unlike Lowell, I’ve never been someone people are drawn to.

Lately, Ropena’s been showing me what feels like affection, but I know that’s just a product of the situation.

Normally, there’s no way her feelings would ever be directed at me.

But Julian had always shown me his interest and affection—consistently, ever since that day.

Even if I couldn’t return those feelings, I simply didn’t understand them.

If I were a woman, I would never fall for someone like me.

Naturally, I would’ve been drawn to someone like Lowell or Julian.

If it were me, I would never even glance at a dim firefly next to a blazing sun.

So why… does he?

He smiled at my question.

Just like every time I had asked that question in the past, it was the same smile he always showed me.

“Oh, Anak. After all this time and everything that’s happened, do you still think love needs a reason? Or that it requires qualifications?”

Of course.

Look at Lowell and Aegina.

Two noble people coming together to form the most perfect love.

Look at Orcan.

A charming and courageous man who wins both love and beauty.

Look at him.

So many men and women drawn to him like sunlight, worshiping him and kneeling before him.

Love has a reason.

And before that, it requires worthiness.

To those unworthy, love is nothing more than a vain flicker burning only within their own hearts.

It’s a foolish desire and an empty wish that will never be granted.

Or it’s a lie, deceiving both oneself and the other person.

“Of course it does.”

“No, Anak. Love doesn’t need a reason or qualifications.”

He tilted the bottle and filled my glass with Antares.

“Sure, there might be some sort of trigger. You might be able to attach a reason to it. But that’s not all. That’s not everything.”

He poured Antares into his own glass and gently held it out.

As I began to lift mine, he lightly tapped his glass against mine without waiting.

“But you won’t accept it, will you? You never have.”

He brought the glass to his lips and only lightly wet them before continuing.

“So, I’ll give you one reason—just for you—to accept.”

I wanted to smack my head immediately for finding his eyes and slightly moistened lips attractive when he wasn’t even drunk.

Still, I focused on what he was about to say.

Maybe, just maybe, one of the long-standing mysteries would be solved.

But all I saw was that mischievous smile return to his lips.

“You’re quite attractive, Anak. It’s just that the other women haven’t realized it.”

I sighed.

Just the same thing he always said to me.

“Ha… I suppose so.”

I took a sip from the glass.

The unique aroma of Antares filled my mouth and slid gently down my throat.

“Heh, I thought you might’ve changed with everything that happened, but I’m glad you haven’t.”

“I’m not sure that’s really a good thing.”

The affection filling his eyes was overwhelming, so I took another sip.

He looked at me quietly for a long time and then cautiously asked:

“…That great battle—was it hard for you?”

It was a simple question.

One he had asked me more than once.

But for some reason, this time it pierced my heart.

Maybe it was his careful, concerned voice—or maybe I really was tipsy after just a few sips.

“Well, others had it harder than me. Unlike Lowell or the others, I just…”

“Anak.”

He cut me off immediately, naturally, even with a smile.

“You don’t need to say things like that. No matter how others had it, you suffered enough and did your part.”

Those eyes.

Did he know?

Well, maybe he did.

It wasn’t well-known, but it wasn’t exactly a secret either.

“…Did you hear about it?”

Only after speaking did I realize my voice had grown heavier than necessary.

“No.”

He slowly shook his head.

“But you… you’re the kind of person who would hide your pain and suffer alone. Not for someone else’s sake, but because you think that’s what you’re supposed to do.”

That was uncanny insight.

Typical of him.

Or maybe I’m just far simpler than I thought.