6.
He had pushed me away just moments ago, yet now he was telling me to touch him freely.
Was he asking me to treat it?
But this was a terrace, and I didn't have a single thing on me.
The words just go get it treated had welled up right to the tip of my tongue, but—
when I met eyes with the man who was offering his hand to me with such an obedient expression,
I had no choice but to silently pull out the handkerchief Julie had packed in my pocket.
Holding the handkerchief folded long and narrow, I was finally about to take his hand,
when I realized the air around us was far too quiet.
When I glanced up, he wasn't breathing.
Once I noticed that, I, who had been empty-headed, began to rapidly grow awkward as well.
I tried my best not to touch, but it was impossible to avoid our skin brushing slightly.
Whenever the tips of my fingers touched his dry palm or fingertips, his hand twitched.
I finally wrapped his palm, stiff with tension, with the handkerchief and tied a knot, when I saw the drop of blood from earlier trailing down his wrist.
I hurriedly wiped the blood with the back of my hand, only then realizing my mistake.
I quickly checked his reaction.
He didn't move an inch.
Relieved inwardly, I was withdrawing my hand from the completed knot—
when, at the speed of light, he grabbed my hand tight.
His palm, which had trapped my hand, was scorching hot, as if devoured by flames.
He exhaled slowly.
Would it be strange if that had sounded like a moan of satisfaction?
I stared at him blankly.
His eyelashes blinked slowly.
Before I knew it, sunset was falling over him.
A warm hue layered over the starlight like the Milky Way.
Perhaps it was the color of a passion fierce enough to wreck one's insides beyond recognition.
At the same time, crimson eyes vivid as blood were gazing at me, yet,
I could feel that all his nerves were still focused on the hand touching mine.
His thumb trailed across the back of my hand very slowly, yet distinctly.
Following that trajectory, his body heat clung to my skin.
The back of my hand burned as if aflame.
"Ex... Priest?"
"Yes."
To my surprise, he answered immediately in a composed voice.
"You're holding my hand right now."
"...."
"Priest?"
Just then, the terrace door opened.
And an attendant with sky-blue hair revealed himself.
A tray tucked under his arm was loaded with everything from a light soup to smoked dishes, sandwiches cut into easy-to-eat pieces, and salad topped with cheese.
His gaze touched my flushed cheeks, then turned to the priest as if belatedly recognizing an unfamiliar presence.
And when his shifting gaze finally settled on our clasped hands,
one of his eyebrows crooked upward.
Then, the hand that had been holding mine suddenly loosened.
The man spoke quietly.
"It seems I was holding the Baron's hand."
"Ah, yes."
As if all the suggestive undertones from moments ago had been nothing but illusions.
I clenched and unclenched my fist several times as I lowered my hand.
I hadn't thought he gripped that hard, yet for some reason, it felt like sensation wasn't properly returning to my hand.
Probably because of the alcohol, but....
He bowed his head to me.
"I apologize. I was rude."
"What for."
I shrugged my shoulders.
He quietly looked down at the handkerchief wrapped around his hand, then bid me farewell.
"I will return this to you later without fail."
He walked past the attendant as if he couldn't see him, then went out of the terrace.
"What was that?"
The attendant's voice was unusually cold.
"Ah, someone pushed me over the railing, and that person saved me."
"What?"
I gestured toward him as if I were an excited person about to introduce a fun prank.
The attendant set the tray down on the table and walked toward me as I stood by the railing.
"Look over there."
The attendant stuck his head out past the railing and narrowed his eyes, as if he had discovered the man caught in the tree.
"That bastard is...."
"You know him?"
"No. Other than that he's an eyesore."
I burst out laughing.
"That's more than enough to know him."
And I raised my head to look at the sky where the sunset was in full bloom.
It was beautiful, as expected.
Just like the light that had settled upon his hair earlier.
"Is that the Imperial Palace garden over there? I can see a lake too."
The attendant cast his gaze in the direction I had asked about.
"Yes. It's the best view from this terrace."
It was the most comfortable voice I had heard from him so far.
I rested my chin on my arm draped over the railing, tilting my head as I stared at his face.
"Can I ask you something?"
"What are you trying to ask that you're beating around the bush like that?"
"What's your name?"
"...What will you do knowing it?"
"You're the only one who knows me. It's unfair."
"Just for that reason?"
"Is that not allowed? Besides, if I don't know your name, I can't call you."
"...."
The attendant, his gaze fixed on the sunset, spat out tersely,
"Jaka."
A smile quietly formed at the corner of my lips.
"It's a pretty name."
It was a compliment, but the attendant furrowed his brows.
That expression again.
His inability to be honest felt endlessly cute.
"Jaka."
As if drawn by my call, he turned toward me.
His hair fluttering softly in the wind was beautiful, strand by strand.
The ashen eyes, which had been cold the entire time, showed gentleness for the first time.
"Your hair is just like a summer sky."
A comfortable laugh came out, so I just smiled.
He remained silent as if suppressing something, then turned his gaze to the other side.
His cheek, upon which the sunset had settled, was red.
Then when I swayed, he quickly returned with sharp eyes and nagged,
"Don't lean on the railing dangerously, go sit over there. Are you really someone who almost fell? And I told you to sober up, yet here you are with some man...."
Jaka suddenly closed his mouth.
"Anyway, I didn't know what you'd like, so I just brought everything."
"Thank you."
I closed my eyes.
"...Don't fall asleep standing."
"I wasn't dozing."
Jaka sighed and seated me in a chair.
"I think I did well coming here today."
"You can say that even after seeing that weird bastard caught in the tree?"
"I met you."
"...."
Jaka, who had been stirring the soup with a spoon as if to cool it, stopped.
"And, hm. I met the Count too."
"Who? Count Gladinea?"
"And that priest from earlier too."
"He really is a priest? Why was he grabbing your hand so recklessly...."
"He doesn't hate me. He doesn't dislike me, either."
"...."
"It's been so long since I've encountered that."
"...."
"That's why I'm glad I came."
Jaka held out a spoonful of soup toward my grinning face.
“……Just put something in your stomach. Doesn’t it burn?”
“It does. My heart.”
When I placed a hand over my chest and muttered exaggeratedly, Jaka let out a hollow laugh.
“Are you acting drunk right now?”
And that was my last memory.
Somehow or other, it seemed I had managed to finish the banquet and return to the mansion safely.
But the next day, only after the sun was high in the sky did I sit up all disheveled, and no matter how much I racked my brain, I couldn’t remember a thing about what had happened after that.
Ah, maybe I should have held back on the tequila at the end.
Maybe it was because I’d been tense, but I wasn’t getting drunk as easily.
So I drank more…….
My drunken habits had never amounted to more than climbing up to high places or crawling into somewhere and sleeping, so I couldn’t imagine I’d caused any trouble.
When I wobbled down to the dining room, a warm, thin soup was brought out.
Just as I was about to take a spoonful.
‘If you like it that much…….’
Someone’s voice brushed hazily through my mind.
Why did I feel so uneasy?
I was trying hard to write it off as the result of blacking out from alcohol for the first time in ages, and was scraping the soup bowl clean, when it happened.
Julie appeared.
Instinctively, I checked Julie’s expression.
Julie’s face was exactly the same as usual.
I stroked my chest and let out a sigh of relief inwardly.
“Is your hangover a little better? How did you go to a banquet and come back having only drunk?”
“That’s not true. So many meaningful things happened.”
“Tell me, aside from getting to try expensive alcohol.”
“……It didn’t taste good enough for me to be talking about it even at this very moment.”
I couldn’t tell Julie, but hadn’t I nearly gotten seriously hurt because I was drunk?
For the time being, I should behave myself a little…….
……At least for today or tomorrow.
“Then what?”
“I met the duke.”
Excited, I began telling Julie about the things that had happened that day, selecting only the pleasant parts to share.
It was nice to see Julie’s eyes shining so brightly.
* * *
“Answer while I’m asking nicely. Where were you all day today?”
Jaka frowned slightly at the hand pressing hard into his shoulder.
“Why? Can’t say? I guess you know you did wrong, too.”
“…….”
“How dare you take food from the kitchen as you please? Did you think you wouldn’t get caught?”
Now that hand began striking Jaka on the head.
“I’ve seen plenty of bastards suck up to nobles, but I’ve never seen anyone like you. Do you really not know who that woman is?”
“I know.”
“Are you out of your mind? It’s only fortunate Her Highness the Imperial Consort didn’t come to today’s banquet. The elders of the imperial family hate that woman so much! Normally, even bringing her a single glass of water would send sparks flying toward lowly servants like us!”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Would you look at this bastard?”
“…….”
“Is that why, even after I signaled you to slip out halfway through, you held out until the very end?”
“Then is that why you pretended not to see it, Senior?”
“What?”
“There’s no way you didn’t see it. That bastard, dead drunk, following that woman onto the terrace.”
For an instant, the man felt something chilling in Jaka’s eyes, yet he couldn’t stop himself from running his mouth, true to his temper.
“Honestly, what do I care whether that woman lives or dies? Rather than getting involved and making things difficult for us for no reason, it’d be better if she just died…….”
“Ah.”
Jaka smiled.
Then he raised a hand and wiped away the spit that had splattered onto his cheek.
The man’s mouth closed without him realizing it.
He should have realized it then.
The wrongness of this young servant—whose eyes might have always been insolent, but who had taken beatings when struck and insults when cursed—now looking straight at him.
And he should have noticed.
The truth that the boy had obediently endured constant mistreatment without talking back even once purely because he had no confidence he could keep things “moderate.”
“……Ah. Disgusting. Seriously.”
And at last, he revealed his true nature.