Chapter 23
After finishing tea with Arnulf, Siegmund returned to the mansion late in the afternoon and was just about to change clothes when a subordinate dressed in black appeared soundlessly and bowed.
“What’s the matter?”
“I have a report, sir.”
“Speak.”
At Siegmund’s command, the subordinate immediately opened his mouth.
“Josef Pomozeyn met with Baron Freang the day before the incident.”
“They met?”
Siegmund’s hand, which had been undoing a button, froze midair. His brow twitched upward.
What crossed Siegmund’s mind was the image of Josef and Baron Freang brawling at the Millionen Social Club party.
The fact that those two, who had fought like mortal enemies, secretly met again in a private gathering was more than suspicious.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“It was at a secret gathering that Baron Freang hosts privately.”
Siegmund thought back to the meeting where he had run into Arnulf last time. But it didn’t seem to be the same place his subordinate was now referring to.
“So, there’s another social gathering?”
“There are two known ones, but it seems he holds even more in secret.”
As expected, Baron Freang was a shady man.
“What did they talk about?”
“Apologies, sir. I couldn’t get that far.”
Siegmund had already expected as much. A gathering like that would be tightly secured—getting close enough to overhear would’ve been impossible.
But the subordinate’s next words were of even greater importance.
“However, it seems that Josef Pomozeyn was not in a good state when he returned home.”
“Was he on drugs or something?”
Josef’s name was always accompanied by talk of drugs and alcohol. But if his subordinate had emphasized his state like that, it must not have been simple drunkenness.
“No, sir. He looked… terrified. As if he’d just experienced something dreadful.”
That answer was unexpected.
“Hm… terrified, you say?”
Josef had attended a secret social meeting, then fled, only to show up the next day at a party where a quarrel broke out and led to the unpleasant affair involving Arnulf.
Could all this really be coincidence?
No—it couldn’t be. Siegmund was convinced.
He resumed removing his shirt, exposing the firm, well-trained muscles of his body. His smooth skin bore many scars—each a relic from the battlefields he and Arnulf had wandered together.
The subordinate watched silently, momentarily distracted by the sight.
With such a beautiful face and slender build, Siegmund was often mistaken for anything but a knight. Yet those long, strong arms concealed immense power.
The subordinate knew well the terrifying might of the Flamberge Siegmund wielded.
“So, he went straight home afterward?”
“No, sir. He was followed shortly by Sieben Acht, and they talked in an alleyway.”
“Sieben Acht?”
Siegmund tilted his head at the unfamiliar name.
“He’s someone who’s usually close to Josef. It’s widely said that Josef is Sieben Acht’s ‘purse.’”
“Purse?”
“Yes. People say Sieben Acht only hangs around Josef for his money.”
Money, huh. Siegmund pictured Josef—always drifting about as if half-asleep—and the leeches surrounding him.
None of them looked trustworthy. Every one of them probably schemed to take advantage of him somehow.
“Investigate that too.”
Arnulf stood before a dark brown door. As he pushed it open, red curtains fluttered lightly. A breeze seemed to flow in through an open window.
There was something oddly strange about the room. It wasn’t just the fluttering curtains—mist or smoke seemed to fill the air, hazy and dreamlike.
Arnulf looked around cautiously, then pushed the curtain aside and stepped forward.
Beyond the thin, almost transparent veil of fabric, he could see a bed—and someone lying on it.
‘Who is that?’
From the silhouette alone, it was impossible to tell. Arnulf tilted his head and lifted the curtain. The fabric brushed softly against the back of his hand, tickling faintly.
At last, the bed was fully revealed—and a person’s back came into view.
Curious, Arnulf reached out to grasp their shoulder. But before he could, his arm was suddenly seized.
A strong force threw him off balance, and he fell backward onto the bed. Before he could regain his footing, something pressed him down.
Only then did Arnulf realize who it was.
“Siegmund?”
At the sound of his name, Siegmund’s eyes curved gently, and a faint smile touched his lips.
For some reason, that smile felt sweet. Just as the thought crossed his mind, Siegmund lowered his head.
“……?”
Arnulf stared, puzzled, as Siegmund’s face drew closer and closer—until their lips met.
The soft, warm sensation made Arnulf’s eyes widen.
He should have pushed him away—but his strength wouldn’t come.
Instead of resisting, Arnulf closed his eyes.
His lips tingled; his heart beat fast; his fingertips trembled. His breath grew shallow.
“…Do you like it?”
Siegmund lifted his head and asked, lips glistening faintly.
Arnulf blinked in shock.
“What the—”
No one was there. Only the familiar ceiling above him.
It had all been a dream.
“Lord Josef, are you awake?”
“Gah!”
Startled, Arnulf looked toward the door. Finn had entered, holding it open, staring in confusion at the flustered man.
“What’s wrong, Lord Josef? Did something happen?”
Finn’s expression tensed suddenly.
“C-Could it be… did your memory come back?!”
His eyes quivered with nervous hope.
If Josef’s memory had returned, it would be good news.
Well… in truth, Finn preferred the current Josef. He secretly hoped the past would stay lost—but still, he couldn’t help worrying.
“Oh, no, nothing like that. I just had a weird dream.”
“A dream? What kind of dream?”
Finn tilted his head, noticing how flushed Josef’s face looked.
“Ah! Lord Josef, don’t tell me…”
Arnulf’s eyes widened. No way—does he think I had an indecent dream?!
He tried to deny it quickly, but Finn spoke faster.
“Are you feeling unwell? Did you catch a cold?”
“Huh?”
“Yesterday’s sparring must’ve been too much for you! Should I make you some medicine?”
Finn rushed closer, peering worriedly at Josef’s face. Only then did Arnulf understand—Finn didn’t know what the dream had been about.
Thank goodness.
Still, embarrassed, Arnulf wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
“Oh no! You have a fever?”
That only deepened Finn’s misunderstanding. Arnulf was about to explain—but then a thought crossed his mind.
“I do feel a bit heavy…”
Right. He could pretend to be sick. Then he’d have an excuse to avoid sparring with Siegmund later.
“Please lie down, my lord. I’ll call the doctor!”
“No, I’ll be fine if I rest.”
Arnulf laid his head back on the pillow. A doctor showing up would only make things worse.
But Finn couldn’t hide his worry.
Josef, lying obediently and quietly without protest—since losing his memory, that had never happened.
“Then I’ll at least bring you some medicine! Wait here!”
Before Arnulf could stop him, Finn darted out of the room.
Left alone, Arnulf chuckled faintly at the half-open door.
He’d always been strong. Even with deep wounds and bleeding badly, he’d thrown himself back into battle countless times.
Siegmund had once snatched his sword away to stop him from fighting.
That thought brought back the memory of Siegmund pinning him down by force… and, naturally, the dream.
“…Good grief. What the hell was that?”
Of all people, why had he dreamed of kissing Siegmund?
Arnulf shut his eyes tightly, trying to erase the image from his mind. Maybe if he fell back asleep, he’d forget it.
But soon his eyes flew open again—the memory of the dream and the events from the recent gathering both surged up in his mind.
“What is happening…”
He groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead.
“Yes?”
Finn had returned, holding a wet towel, eyes wide.
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
Arnulf couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth.
Finn, watching him, still looked deeply concerned.
Josef’s flushed cheeks and reddened ears didn’t help either. Of course, it was only because he was recalling that dream—but Finn couldn’t have known that.
“Are you sure you’re all right? Should I call the doctor now?”
“No. I just need to move my body a bit.”
If he stayed still, he’d only keep thinking about that dream. Better to tire himself out.
Arnulf sprang up.
“What? No, Lord Josef, you can’t!”
Finn nearly jumped.
He’d hurt his wrist yesterday, and he didn’t look well now either—exercise was the last thing he needed!
But Arnulf brushed him off and left the room.
He went out to the training grounds and started running without even stretching.
After five laps, sweating, he stripped off his shirt and began doing push-ups.
Even if it was summer, he’d been “sick,” and yet here he was! Finn watched nervously, torn between concern and disbelief.
What if he collapsed? What if the shock somehow brought his memories back?
The thought, absurd as it was, made Finn’s eyes widen.
Then—
A shadow fell across the ground beside Arnulf.
‘Huh?’
Finn glanced up at the sky—no clouds. The sun was bright.
So where was that shadow coming from?
He turned—and froze.
“Ah!”
It was Siegmund.
