Before long, the oppressive heat was in full swing. Even at night, the lingering warmth of the day refused to dissipate. Having nothing else to do, Ruth sat idly by the window, gazing outside, lost in childhood memories. The sound of the door opening made him instinctively turn his head. When he saw Ail stepping through the open door, he rose and bowed his head.

Ail, noticing this, waved his hand dismissively with an air of disapproval.
“No need to be so formal every time.”
“…You’re late,” Ruth responded, offering a perfunctory greeting, not because he had anything particular to say, but because he needed to please him today.

He glanced at Ail to gauge his mood, wondering if he might be upset. Fortunately, he seemed pleased by his remark and sat down with a faint smile.
“Were you waiting for me?” he teased, his voice lighthearted and playful, like a rogue’s banter.

Ruth answered with a straight face, “Not at all.”
“Such a stiff person. Even if you’re just saying it, wouldn’t it be nice to say you were waiting for me?”
“I have no reason to wait for Your Majesty, and I doubt you’d feel good hearing that I was. But if you insist, I’ll say so.”

Ail, watching him stoically deliver the words, felt a mischievous impulse and smiled.
“Fine, then say it.”
“I was waiting for you.”

His response came swiftly, his voice cold and detached. Ail grimaced slightly. Forced pleasantries, it turned out, weren’t all that amusing.
“With a face like that, those words mean nothing. Why not say it a bit more warmly?”
“I lack such skills.”

“You know, we’re going to spend our lives together anyway. It’s better for both of us if we get along.”

Ruth flinched at the comment. He had no intention of spending his life with him. Even though Ail might just be speaking casually, the very thought stirred a visceral repulsion. The idea of living his entire life within this palace was horrifying. Even with his goal to appease him, he couldn’t pretend to be pleased by such a notion.

Ail, noticing his reaction, smirked bitterly and waved him over. Reluctantly, Ruth approached his side. He widened his eyes in surprise as Ail gently took his hand, his touch tender. With a gracious movement, he kissed the back of his hand and pulled him into an embrace.
“If there’s anything you want, tell me. I’ll grant you anything.”

It was a sweet temptation. His soothing tone and promise of granting any wish made Ruth speak impulsively.
“If it’s a wish… could you forgive Elsen and let me go?”

Ail’s once-kind expression hardened almost immediately. Seeing this, Ruth regretted his words and quickly changed the subject.
“That’s… not possible, right? Then, I’d like to go for a walk. Being cooped up in the room is stifling. I’d like to get out.”

His softened tone eased Ail’s expression somewhat.
“You’re right. You’ve been indoors too much. Even though it’s night, it’s a fine time for a walk. Let’s go.”

Still holding his hand, Ail stood and gently tugged his arm. Reluctantly following him, Ruth politely thanked him.
“Thank you.”
“I told you, there’s no need for such formalities,” Ail replied.

Ruth didn’t argue. But that didn’t mean he agreed with him. Expressing gratitude without formality was something done between close individuals. Not acknowledging his favor felt strange in their relationship. It was too much like they were truly lovers, and that made it uncomfortable.

With Ruth’s hand in his, Ail led his out of the room and dismissed the guards before heading into the golden palace garden. As Ruth stepped out, he noticed the uneasy glances of the guards. They were visibly anxious, likely because they hadn’t yet informed Ail about Camiel’s visit earlier that afternoon. Ruth had instructed them not to, saying he’d handle it himself. Sooner or later, Ail would find out, but how the news reached him mattered.

After four days in Ail’s room, Ruth took a deep breath of the fresh night air to calm his nerves. The lingering heat of the day remained, but the cooler night air was refreshing. The trees and flowers in the garden exuded a fragrant scent, making the atmosphere feel even crisper.

“In three days, the preparations at the northern palace will be complete. You’ll be free to roam around as you please there,” Ail said.
“Thank you,” Ruth replied mechanically, his gaze lifting to the white moon above.

The summer moon felt especially pure and pale, its light faint and delicate as if overshadowed by the harsh sun. It seemed fragile, almost sorrowful.

Watching Ruth stare at the sky with a somber expression, Ail finally spoke the words he’d been mulling over.
“After your coming-of-age ceremony, when Jessie marries your younger sister, they can move into the palace. It would be nice if your mother joined them too.”

Ruth turned to him, surprised by the unexpected suggestion.
“Did Lord Jessie say that?”
“No. It’s my idea.”

So you won’t be able to escape, the thought flashed through Ail’s mind but was left unsaid.

Ruth instinctively sensed his intent—to use them as leverage—and decided to reject the offer tactfully.
“That won’t be necessary. Both Leia and my mother would find the palace uncomfortable. It’s such a stifling place.”

It was clearly a refusal, but the rare softness in Ruth’s tone kept Ail from continuing the conversation. His gaze unconsciously drifted to his hand in his. Ruth didn’t reject his hand, but neither did he clasp it in return. Instead, he walked silently through the garden, his hand limp in his.

Even as they walked side by side, holding hands, Ruth felt distant. Though he had kept his by his side, an unshakable restlessness began to stir within him, throwing him into confusion. There was no reason for him to feel this way. He had already ensured he stayed by his side. If he tried to run, he could always capture his—or even kill him.

Yet, somewhere deep within, there was a hollow, aching emptiness.

What is he to me?

The question looped endlessly in his mind. Ruth didn’t push him away, but neither did he draw closer. That passivity angered him. When he was stubborn, he wanted to break his resolve. When he resisted, it annoyed him. But then, seeing him sit listlessly, he felt a pang of sadness.

When he held him by force, and he resigned himself to it, a strange chill gripped his heart.

Sometimes, he even thought things had been better before. Back then, even if it was a façade, Ruth would react. He would bristle at his teasing, snap in irritation, yet still remain by his side, always watching him. Back then, he would occasionally smile at him. Not the radiant smiles he gave her friends, but faint, hesitant ones that still warmed him.

Even after meaningless dalliances with strangers, Ruth would approach him the next day, shaking his head as if he had no other choice. If he joked suggestively, he would scoff in disbelief.

Now, he didn’t smile at all.

He had thought that keeping him close, preventing him from slipping further away, would bring everything back to the way it was. But it hadn’t.

He no longer knew what he wanted. Did he want him to relax and treat him as before? Or did he want him to smile at him again? Or maybe… why had he even kept him in the first place?

Was it simply anger at him attempting to leave on his own terms? Or had he truly been unable to bear the thought of him leaving?

And if he didn’t want him to leave, why was that?

No answers came.

For days, Ail had turned the questions over in his mind without resolution. A part of him felt that discovering the truth might change something fundamental within himself. And perhaps that was what he feared most.

At this moment, though, he only wanted Ruth to remain by his side. If only for this fleeting moment, he wished he would stay in his arms.

The quiet of the garden was filled only with the faint chirping of insects. In the pale moonlit garden, Ail pulled Ruth closer, wrapping an arm around his waist. He placed his other hand on his cheek.

“We didn’t get to dance during the festival, did we?”

Startled by his sudden action, Ruth stammered.
“I don’t know how to dance.”
“Yet you danced last Banquet, didn’t you?”
“That was Elsen trying to teach me. If you saw, you’d know—he gave up on me in the end.”

“I’m much better than that Knight. Put your hand on my shoulder.”

“I can’t. I might step on you.”

Ruth recalled the disastrous dance that left Elsen limping and tried to refuse. But Ail grabbed his hand and placed it firmly on his shoulder.
“If I say it’s fine, then it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine.”

“There’s no one here. Stop worrying and move your right foot first.”

Despite Ruth’s reluctant expression, Ail took the lead, guiding his movements. Resigned, Ruth began to follow his steps. His movements were stiff and clumsy, prompting Ail to chuckle.
“You’re hopeless at dancing.”

Ruth, slightly offended by his remark, retorted, “I told you I couldn’t dance.”

The natural, almost emotional tone of his grumble brought a smile to Ail’s face. Ruth, noticing his expression, quickly looked away. Under the moonlight, his beauty struck his, making his heart race.

How could he be so cruel at times, yet now smile so warmly and act so tenderly? Ruth found himself falling into the trap again, wondering if perhaps—just perhaps—he cared for him, even a little.

He knew it was impossible.

But as Ail’s gentleness increased in recent days, the thoughts crept in more frequently.

No. It’s not true. It can’t be true.

He couldn’t be this cruel to someone he truly cared about.

Trying to suppress the fluttering in his chest, Ruth forced himself to think of other things. But his mind kept drifting back to Ail. He remembered the way he had looked at him when they first met, his expression cold as he loosed arrows at their enemies.

And as Ail spun him lightly, holding his waist, he couldn’t help but recall how he had danced with Salina.

He remembered the sharp, almost painful emotion he had felt then—resentment at seeing Salina, the perfect woman, laughing in his arms. The memory resurfaced vividly, and his chest tightened with lingering bitterness.

Noticing his grimace, Ail stopped moving.
“What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”
“…No, I’m fine,” he replied softly.