Chapter 38
. The Knight by the Princess’s Side (4) [38]
“…Illeas, you really can’t hold your liquor, huh…”
“…A little.”
By the time they left the restaurant, Illeas’s face was already tinged red. He had only drunk a single glass of wine, and yet here he was.
Illeas, when it came to matters like this, didn’t bluff but answered honestly, wearing a grave and earnest expression. Fernsiana clicked her tongue.
“No wonder you kept telling me not to drink at parties. Turns out you’re the lightweight… Oh—hey! You’re gonna walk straight into that! Illeas… Illeas!”
Seeing him sway dangerously, Fernsiana hurriedly grabbed him as he nearly collapsed. With her support, Illeas leaned against a street tree.
“…It’s because I didn’t bring the sobering medicine. If I take it, I’ll be fine…”
Fernsiana pressed down the laugh threatening to spill out. Illeas groaned, clutching his forehead, looking almost embarrassed.
“If you’re that bad with alcohol, you shouldn’t drink at all.”
“That’s because you kept trying to steal mine and drink it…”
With a faintly furrowed brow, Illeas muttered, his expression oddly slack. Meeting his eyes, Fernsiana felt a sudden heat and looked away, fanning herself.
Normally, even when Illeas looked flustered, it felt as though he was putting it on for others’ sake—pretending surprise, acting like someone whose emotions easily waver, just to ease conversation and maintain a soft atmosphere.
But now, watching him genuinely sulking…
“You little brat looked like you were planning to drink every last drop of wine in that restaurant.”
“No, I wasn’t. Illeas, can you walk? Or can’t you?”
Illeas lowered his gaze, leaning against the tree without answering. His face resembled a child throwing a tantrum. Fernsiana suppressed her laughter again.
“…Dizzy…”
“Let’s rest a bit before going. Or—where’s that sobering medicine? In your office drawer? Should I go fetch it?”
“No, don’t go. Stay here…”
Illeas stretched out his hand, but it flailed in the air before dropping. Fernsiana quickly caught it to steady him.
“Alright. Illeas, you really are hopeless with alcohol… I’d better not even joke about making you drink.”
“So you were planning to trick your elder into drinking, huh.”
Illeas, one arm draped over her shoulder, tried to flick her forehead. But in his drunken state, the gesture was weak, making it easy for her to dodge. He gave her a mock-irritated look.
“You’re a nimble little thing.”
“And you keep calling me little. Must be nice being tall.”
“So small, you could roll away at any moment…”
“And what would you do with that knowledge? Just sober up already, Master Illeas.”
“…Hmph.”
Turning his head away, his face was flushed, no doubt from the alcohol. Fernsiana reached out to smooth his disheveled hair, and he tilted his head slightly.
“…Was the food good?”
“Yeah, it was.”
“Though today felt a little salty… Still, not bad, right?”
“Hm? I thought it was delicious.”
“Really? That’s good then…”
Illeas let out a quiet sigh. Fernsiana smiled.
“And the waiter was cute too!”
“Look at you, already eyeing cute and handsome people?”
“And you’re saying that like you’re any different?”
“…Fine, fine. I give up.”
Illeas suddenly let out a soft laugh, the kind that slips out with a fleeting, silly thought. Fernsiana blinked. He slowly turned his head to gaze at her.
“This kind of thing… it’s really nice.”
“What’s nice about this? You, drunk out of your mind from one glass of wine—is that what’s nice?”
“Yes, exactly that! Yeah! That’s it! Ugh, dizzy…”
“Oh dear, young master. Please don’t raise your voice—you’ll collapse.”
“Brat. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Huh? Aren’t you?”
Illeas looked at her with an expression that was equal parts indignant and unfocused. Fernsiana’s golden eyes sparkled as she watched him. Without a word, he took in a deep breath and then gently pushed her away. Her hand brushed against his fingertips as he did.
With his freed hand, Illeas rubbed his face and then slapped both cheeks sharply. The loud smacking made Fernsiana’s eyes widen in shock.
“I–Illeas? Doesn’t that hurt?”
“It does… but it clears my head.”
“Who slaps themselves like that? I told you to rest for a while!”
“No, I need to snap out of it… Ah, and look, Ruaire’s here.”
Fernsiana turned around. Sure enough, Ruaire was hurrying toward them, his usually tidy hair disheveled. Clearly, he’d rushed over after hearing news about Illeas.
“Boss!”
“Oh, Ruaire…”
“What happened? Miss Feyrun, did the boss try anything improper?”
“…Why on earth is that the first thing you ask?”
“Because it looks like he’s been slapped. Twice.”
Ruaire pointed at Illeas’s left and right cheeks in turn. While Fernsiana burst into laughter, Illeas protested indignantly.
“If she had slapped me, it wouldn’t have ended with just my cheeks!”
“…”
“…”
An awkward silence drifted between the three.
“Thank you for staying by his side.”
Having been supported all the way back to the office, Illeas wasted no time. Without turning on the lights, he went straight to the drawer, took out a sobering pill, swallowed it, then collapsed on the sofa. After a few groans, he fell asleep.
In the meantime, Ruaire tidied his disheveled hair and clothes, then expressed his gratitude to Fernsiana with a polite tone.
“The boss is notoriously weak to alcohol.”
“So it seems…”
“That’s why he never drinks without that remedy. I don’t understand why he did tonight… I apologize for the trouble.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine. The wine was given by the restaurant owner as a service, so I think he felt obliged to drink it.”
Fernsiana recounted what had happened. Ruaire listened calmly, though he didn’t excuse Illeas’s decision to drink and end up staggering around.
After leaving a few more words of concern, Fernsiana departed. Her footsteps faded down the stairs, until silence fell over the office. Only then did Ruaire glance back.
“…Why did you drink without the remedy this time?”
Illeas, whom Ruaire had assumed asleep, lowered the arm covering his face and stared up at the ceiling. His eyelids blinked sluggishly.
“Didn’t you hear what she said? The owner gave it as service…”
“And since when do you ever bat an eye at such things?”
“…”
Illeas shot him a sour look before turning his head away with a snort, though the alcohol-induced headache quickly cut that short.
After a brief silence, Illeas spoke again.
“…I’ve always wondered what other people live for.”
Not everyone lives with vengeance, obligations, or grudges. But for those who don’t, what do they live for? Even if he could learn, like memorizing how fish breathe, Illeas had never truly felt it.
“But now I think I get it. What everyone spends their lives on…”
Sinking into the sofa, he slowly closed his eyes.
Conversations with no purpose or utility. Good food. A cherished person sitting across the table. A warm light flickering above, a sweet glass of wine by one’s side. Maybe this is what people live within.
“Most don’t drown themselves in drink like this.”
“So not that much, huh? Anyway, you’ll never indulge me, will you?”
Even at Illeas’s grumbling, Ruaire didn’t flinch, simply switched on the office lights. Groaning, Illeas forced himself upright. Another long night at the office was about to begin.
