Chapter 44
Being with someone and wanting to stay with them—Belia was the first person to make him feel that way.
Was it really just because she was related to Bain?
“I don’t think so.”
Allen had said that when they were on their way to the banquet hall. When Carlton asked what he meant, Allen simply gave a meaningful smile and said he’d understand in time. A useless answer.
“Wow.”
Carlton stared intently at Belia, who was now tapping her fingers against the glass.
Why did he feel the urge to protect her, to worry about her?
“Is it because she’s pretty?”
Everything associated with Bain—whether objects or people—was always dark and gloomy. But Belia alone was bright and beautiful.
Maybe that’s why she stood out.
Carlton was seriously pondering these unfamiliar feelings when—
“Ah!”
The glass Belia had been playing with slipped and fell over the balcony railing.
Belia immediately reached far over the railing to catch it.
“That’s dangerous!”
Carlton moved without thinking.
The glittering flame vanished.
As Belia’s jacket slid to the ground, their bodies drew close.
“Are you okay?”
Belia, fully leaning against him, stared blankly.
Carlton frowned as he saw the red bump on her forehead.
She must’ve hit it on the railing when she lost her balance.
“Milady, perhaps it would be best if you didn’t touch alcohol again…”
Belia suddenly reached up and pulled Carlton’s face toward her.
Carlton flinched at the unfamiliar contact.
Their faces drew close.
“Milady?”
Belia, who had been staring dazedly into his red eyes, suddenly widened her own.
“Pretty.”
“What?”
“I like red. It’s beautiful.”
She lowered her hand from his eye and gently tapped his lips before closing her eyes.
“…Ah?”
Carlton froze, holding Belia as she leaned against him, completely limp.
He raised one hand to his lips where her fingers had touched.
His entire face began to flush, starting from his lips.
“What…?”
He lifted his arm to cover his mouth.
Thump, thump.
A pleasant, spreading tremor filled his body. He knew it was the sound of his own heartbeat.
The subtle scent tickled his nose, and his heart pounded even faster.
Ever since he opened his eyes in the wasteland eight years ago, chasing Bain, he sometimes wondered if he was already dead.
His cursed body felt like a corpse—cold as ice. Even he wasn’t sure if he was truly alive.
Only the sight of red blood when he was severely wounded reassured him that he was still living.
“Ah…”
But this—this was different.
The beating of his heart, announcing his existence, left him dazed.
“Hmm—”
Carlton blankly stared at the sleeping Belia’s face.
The moon was unusually bright.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.
Just as Belia’s body began to grow cold, someone stepped onto the balcony.
“Carlton.”
It was Allen.
“Carlton?”
“Ah, you’re here.”
Carlton’s eyes were still a bit distant as he came out of his thoughts.
“Belia is…”
Allen looked at Belia nestled in Carlton’s arms and the empty glass on the ground—he understood immediately.
“She’s drunk.”
“Yeah.”
Carlton looked back down at Belia.
“Why don’t you sit her down somewhere? You’re going to tire yourself out.”
“Ah, right.”
Allen loosened his bowtie, looking exhausted.
“Just like she warned, I almost died.”
He’d finally climbed over the wall and was now making dry observations.
“Yeah.”
“What?”
“Huh?”
“What’s with you?”
Allen frowned at Carlton, who still looked dazed.
“Is he drunk too?”
“No, well, maybe…”
Allen clicked his tongue and picked up Carlton’s jacket from the floor.
“If you can’t even handle your drink, why bother?”
He covered Belia with the jacket and straightened up.
Carlton stared at the jacket like it held the answers.
“Do me a favor.”
“What?”
“Help me carry the lady down to the first floor. Over there, see it?”
Allen pointed somewhere beyond the balcony.
“Near the carriage, beside the garden—someplace out of sight. Help me move her there.”
He ran a tired hand over his face.
“Did something happen?”
Carlton finally noticed something was off about Allen.
“Well, a bit.”
“His Highness is just the same.”
Allen recalled Canary’s eyes.
Filled with anger, resentment, and complex emotions, those eyes had silenced him. He couldn’t persuade her any further.
The wall that had been slowly crumbling with Belia’s presence had become solid once again.
“Ha…”
Those violet eyes were clear in his mind—as if saying, “Don’t ever enter my world.”
Allen shut his eyes tightly, then opened them to look at the drunkenly sleeping Belia.
“Can I ask you something?”
Carlton nodded.
“I’ll be blunt…”
He hesitated, looking at the red eyes that clearly didn’t understand what he was about to say.
Carlton was too emotionally dull. He likely hadn’t even realized how he felt yet.
“Carlton, do you like Belia?”
He had to ask.
If he was to go through with the deal made with the Emperor—his father—he needed a contingency plan.
“Like her?”
Carlton tilted his head, not even understanding the question.
Allen exhaled deeply.
“Do you like her? I mean as a woman. Do you love her?”
“Love?”
“Yeah.”
Carlton scowled.
Love—could there be a more foreign word to him?
“You’re asking about those tender feelings shared between men and women?”
“Yeah.”
“Me?”
“Ah, okay. So that’s a no?”
Seeing Carlton still looking confused, Allen shook his head.
“Alright. That’s settled then.”
“What’s settled?”
“I made a deal with Father about gaining access to the Forest of Mist. Originally, it involved your relationship with Lady Canary. But now, I’ll redefine it as your relationship with Belia. You’re fine with that, right?”
“…Do I need to agree to that?”
“If you think so, then no. In two weeks, you’ll enter the Forest of Mist with the Imperial Knights.”
“What about outsiders?”
“Ah, your friend?”
Carlton nodded.
“Their identity is unclear, but I’ll take care of it. Just like I said before, there can’t be any casualties during this expedition. If anyone dies—not just you and I, but your friend will be in serious trouble.”
“Hmm…”
At that moment, Belia stirred in her sleep, as if cold.
Watching her, Allen thought of someone left alone on the balcony.
“Let’s talk later. For now, can you do as I asked?”
Carlton looked between the barely visible Canary and Allen, then snapped his fingers.
“Sigh…”
Silence returned to the balcony.
“Hmm.”
The thought of entering the Forest of Mist soon made Carlton’s face grow solemn.
He had attempted to sneak into the forest unofficially many times, but the divine barrier—along with magic—always stopped him.
“This time.”
He clenched his fist.
Maybe this time, he would finally uncover the meaning of the curse on his left arm—and Bain.
He had a strange certainty about it.
Looking at Belia sleeping against the wall, Carlton moved.
“That voice’s secret must be there too.”
The strange visions and this symbol, which seemed to prove them true—they would all be explained in the Forest of Mist.
He picked up the softly snoring Belia.
“Mmm…”
She nuzzled into his arms, and Carlton froze for a moment.
“Love, huh.”
The unfamiliar word kept resurfacing in his mind.
There was no way someone like him could love.
Holding Belia, Carlton disappeared from the balcony.
The night of the banquet deepened.
“Waaaah!!!”
Belia sat up with a jolt, clutching her head.
“Ugh…”
A splitting headache pierced through her skull.
Through squinting eyes, she saw her dress strewn haphazardly across the floor.
“What…?”
A strange feeling.
Belia ran her hands through her tangled hair.
“Ow!”
It was so knotted that even trying to brush it brought tears to her eyes.
“Ugh… How did I get back here?”
She remembered drinking in a fit of rage, but after that, things were blurry.
“With the Tower Master…”
“Milady?”
“Huh?”
Belia’s face froze.
“Didn’t you miss me?”
A rush of memories surged all at once.
The clearer each scene became, the paler Belia’s face grew.
Though she had fallen asleep drunk, the cold night wind against her cheek had woken her.
In her hazy state, she remembered Allen’s voice… and the words “Forest of Mist.”
And the feeling of her body floating—Carlton had picked her up and woken her.
