Author's Preface
Tok. Tok.
The soft tapping of fingers against the desk pulled Yuma back to awareness.
He lowered his gaze to the document in his hand, his expression as calm as ever.
After Chaiden's departure, Rue entered carrying a stack of files containing information on several wealthy merchants.
A list of names that could be "borrowed."
"What do you think? Anyone catch your interest?"
"Mm..."
"I've re-sorted the documents Camelia gathered. The ones you're holding now are merchants with the cleanest reputations and strongest finances. They can provide appropriate supplies... without raising suspicion."
"...This is excessive."
"No, Yuma."
Rue shook his head firmly.
"Even if you're going undercover, you're still a prince. I won't send you out as a mere commoner."
Yuma set the document back on the table.
"Your recommendation?"
"I suggest Merchant Cody. His record is spotless. He regularly donates to orphanages and has never been involved in disputes. He was once married and had a child... but both died in a pandemic ten years ago. The child would be around your age now. A convenient coincidence."
Yuma's gaze turned cold.
"Do not use the name of the dead for convenience."
Rue immediately lowered his head.
"My apologies. That wasn't my intention. The information about his child... came from Cody himself."
"Mm?"
"He said he would be honored to cooperate with the Empire. In exchange, he only asks for unrestricted trade access. He even offered-if necessary-for us to use his late child's identity."
A faint crease formed between Yuma's brows.
Rue opened his eyes slightly wider.
A subtle golden glimmer passed through his pupils.
"He's telling the truth."
"...."
"No deception. Only facts."
His eyes narrowed again.
"Ten years ago, he was merely a small traveling merchant. Even his child's death was never formally recorded. According to him, an identity is just a name. The person behind it is already gone. There's nothing to worry about."
"He's rather..."
"Cold-headed," Rue finished.
"That's how merchants survive. Ten years is long enough to swallow grief... or bury it."
Yuma exhaled softly.
"How did you narrow them down?"
"Camelia gathered the data first. Then we verified it personally. The selected candidates underwent deeper investigation."
Rue tapped the documents on the desk.
"This list has already been filtered again after the final review."
"You believe he's the best option?"
"Yes. If you approve, I'll prepare the contract and bind him with a soul oath."
A soul oath.
A vow bound directly to one's soul.
Once spoken, even those incapable of wielding soul power would be bound.
Breaking it meant the destruction of the soul itself.
And death.
Yuma nodded.
Rue hummed in satisfaction as he organized the files.
"So."
"Mm?"
"One week?"
Yuma raised a brow slightly.
"...One week?"
"The professor says the academy doesn't begin in a week. It starts in three days."
Rue cleared his throat and looked away.
"That's only registration. Classes won't begin immediately."
Yuma looked at him.
"Explain."
His gaze remained calm.
That calmness alone made Rue feel as though he had already done something wrong.
"I'm not lying," Rue said quickly.
"A week is the usual schedule if the number of applicants is small. The process can finish in four days."
"Hoo..." Yuma's tone was flat.
For some reason, Rue felt as though he had just committed a grave mistake. A thin sheen of sweat formed at his temple.
"How does it work?"
Rue cleared his throat again and took a sip of tea.
"First day: registration. All students move into the dormitories immediately. Second day: ability testing according to specialization. Offensive types will fight shadows. Purification types are examined directly by instructors. Healers must treat injuries."
He spoke more smoothly now.
"The duration depends on the number of applicants. It could take four days. Or three weeks."
"They cannot leave?"
"No. They're expected to build bonds. Soldiers are not individuals-they're a unit. That's why dormitory life is mandatory."
Rue spoke with enthusiasm before noticing Yuma's unchanged expression.
"...Right."
"What about palace administration?"
"We'll deliver anything urgent."
"If there's an attack?"
"We are capable, Yuma."
"And-"
"Yu."
That single word stopped him.
Rue rubbed his forehead tiredly.
"Do you not trust your own soldiers?" His voice was lower now.
"That's not it, I-"
"Wasn't it you who restructured the old system so the Empire would be more secure?"
His voice began to tremble.
"Wasn't it you who forced yourself onto the battlefield at ten... for the sake of the future?"
The words came through clenched teeth.
He tried to remain composed.
But the image of a small child drenched in blood refused to leave his mind.
"Yuma... please."
His voice dropped.
"It's peaceful now. Can't you rest, even just a little? I promise... a war like the last one won't happen again."
Yuma remained silent.
That silence made it harder for Rue to breathe.
"Do you know," he continued more quietly, "our Empire now has the highest survival rate in the region? Even commoners live peacefully because of the system you built."
He let out a bitter laugh.
"Then why can't you feel safe too?"
Yuma said nothing.
That silence only unsettled Rue further.
"We're not weak, Yuma."
His voice sharpened.
"That war should have destroyed a quarter of our territory. There should have been hundreds of casualties."
His fist tightened.
"But there weren't."
His voice trembled.
"Because your system worked. Because your soldiers stood their ground."
He looked at Yuma.
"They're proud of you."
His breathing grew uneven.
"You have no idea how hard it is to stop them from revealing the truth-that the commander and the prince are the same person."
He gave a short, bitter laugh.
"They want everyone to know who saved them."
His voice rose before he realized it.
"Then why do you still act like everything will collapse without you?!"
Rue froze.
His hand flew to cover his mouth.
His other hand still gripped the desk.
His breathing was rough.
"Ah..."
The word escaped softly.
He had just realized his tone.
"Damn it."
He lifted his head-
And went still.
Yuma sat there quietly.
One hand pressed against his chest.
His gaze was empty. Confused.
The corners of his eyes were red, yet no tears fell.
Seeing him like that-
Rue felt his own chest tighten painfully.
Not because he had been scolded.
Not because Yuma argued back.
But because Yuma didn't get angry.
Didn't cry.
Did nothing at all.
Panicking, Rue dropped to his knees in front of him.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Was I too harsh? Did I scare you?"
His hand trembled as he reached toward Yuma's shoulder.
"I was wrong. Forgive me. Are you hurt?"
Behind them, the servants lowered their heads even further.
No one dared to speak.
But in their hearts-
they agreed.
Their prince was pushing himself too far.
And none of them could stop him.
"...I..."
Yuma's voice was small.
He looked at Rue with confusion.
His heart hurt.
But not like before.
Not like the wounds his soul had once endured.
Not like the suffocation from clashing power.
This was different.
He didn't understand.
Why was his chest heavy?
Why did his throat burn?
Why did his eyes sting?
He wasn't hurt.
Yuma tilted his head slightly, genuinely trying to understand.
"...why..."
Rue was still kneeling before him.
Yuma looked at him.
The heaviness in his chest remained.
But seeing Rue panic-
he let out a small breath.
Ah.
He understood.
His cousin was worried.
And because of that worry, he lost control.
Not anger.
Fear.
Understanding came first. The feeling did not.
Slowly, Yuma steadied his breathing.
He forced the heat in his eyes back down.
He smiled faintly.
"It's alright."
His voice was gentle.
"I know you're only worried about me."
Rue stilled.
But Yuma continued as though nothing had happened.
"Perhaps I made everyone feel disappointed. As if I don't trust them."
He lowered his gaze slightly.
"I'm sorry."
"No, I-"
"You're right," Yuma said softly.
"I understand."
He drew in a slow breath, ensuring his voice remained steady.
"I'll focus on the academy mission. If there's anything important, send it to me."
He paused.
"The headmaster is Richard, correct? It shouldn't be difficult to arrange a private room so work can continue smoothly."
His tone had returned to normal. Calm. Ordered.
As though nothing had just occurred.
"Yuma-"
"Brother."
This time, his smile was brighter.
Too bright.
"I truly understand. I'm sorry for worrying you."
Rue opened and closed his mouth several times.
That smile.
Again.
It wasn't the one he wanted.
The more he pressed, the more Yuma would force himself to appear fine.
And that hurt even more.
He lowered his head.
Behind them, the servants did the same.
No one spoke.
But everyone understood.
Their prince was always the last to complain.
And the first to comfort others.
Rue slowly lifted his face.
He forced a small smile.
"I see."
"Mm."
"Alright. I should go."
His voice sounded steady-too steady.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow. There's someone I need you to meet."
"No need," Yuma replied gently.
"I'll come to headquarters myself."
"...Alright."
The word came out softer than intended.
Rue rose from his kneeling position.
"For now, rest. I hope you'll be in better condition before registration."
"I understand."
Yuma nodded with that same faint smile.
Rue gave a brief salute and turned away.
His steps were quick. Too quick for someone usually composed.
Once he exited the hall and entered the western wing toward headquarters, his pace slowed.
Until he finally stopped.
He leaned against the wall.
His breathing was heavy.
"...I hope Yuma can return to normal."
It was barely a whisper.
Since seven years ago-
since the first prince's contamination disappeared-
Yuma's emotions had vanished with it.
Rue covered his face with one hand.
"Haaah... what am I supposed to do..."
That was not the sigh of an archduke's heir.
It was the sigh of an older brother.
"Captain! I can't take it anymore!!!"
One of Lavis's subordinates wailed from the training grounds.
Rue inhaled deeply.
He straightened his clothes and expression.
His gaze returned to calm.
There was still much to handle.
At the very least-
he had to ensure Yuma's registration went smoothly.
Clinging to a small hope-
that Yuma might learn to laugh again
among children his own age.
Meanwhile-
Yuma remained seated in the garden.
A book of fairy tales rested on his lap, placed there at some point by the head servant.
His expression had returned to calm.
No confusion. No redness in his eyes.
As if that moment had been nothing more than a minor disturbance.
"Mm."
He turned a page.
The wind drifted softly.
His warm aura spread unconsciously once more.
The heaviness in his chest remained.
But he ignored it.
The dizziness came and went.
A dull ache pulsed faintly within his soul.
Nothing new.
His fingers briefly tightened on the edge of the page.
Just for a moment.
Then he released it.
It didn't matter.
After all-
he was used to it.