Chapter 103
“Del Rose.”
“…….”
“…Del Rose?”
Ianes called Theogrim again. As he stepped closer to his unresponsive lord, Ianes tilted his head slightly in curiosity.
Theogrim was staring out the window.
The pure morning light of early dawn was falling over Del Rose’s beautiful, angelic face. It was a scene so breathtaking it drew admiration no matter how many times one saw it—like a holy painting in itself.
Though it was a beauty impossible to grow accustomed to, at this moment, Del Rose felt strangely unfamiliar. The mouth that always held a gentle smile was now tightly set. The violet eyes, touched by the hand of the divine, looked cold.
“…Lord Theogrim.”
Only when Ianes called to him did Theogrim turn his head, as if coming to his senses. In that fleeting moment, Ianes caught sight of Theogrim’s expression and involuntarily swallowed a sharp breath.
For that one brief instant, Theogrim’s face held no expression, like a statue.
It wasn’t just a lack of emotion. It looked like a shell, sculpted in the likeness of a human face yet empty—completely devoid of feeling.
A form so perfectly human in appearance that it gave off an utterly inhuman coldness. Ianes was struck by a sensation bordering on fear, a discomfort that felt like the uncanny valley—a visceral reaction to something that resembles humanity, but is fundamentally different.
“Del Rose…?”
Ianes forced the words from his throat, swallowing dryly. It had only been a moment, and yet it felt unnaturally long, as though something had been twisted and stretched out of time.
“…Ianes.”
At the sound of that composed voice, Theogrim’s delicate eyes narrowed gently.
In that instant, the frozen air around them melted away completely.
Without realizing it, Ianes let out a long breath.
Relief.
The calm and soft voice calling his name, the eyes that always held a smile full of compassion—this was the Del Rose he knew so well, the one he loved and revered without end.
“What were you looking at that you didn’t even hear my voice?”
Ianes asked with mock reproach, trying to appear playful and familiar.
Today, Theogrim looked even more dazzling than usual. Perhaps it was because he was seeing off his precious Grand Duchess. The sunlight pouring down behind Del Rose, who was impeccably dressed with no detail out of place, created an almost divine halo around him.
“Are you feeling sad because Her Grace is leaving?”
At his question, Theogrim averted his gaze, flustered—just as he always did. He was no different from usual: a reserved and innocent man, but always sincere in his warm affection for the Grand Duchess.
“…I don’t know when I’ll be able to see her again.”
Theogrim didn’t deny Ianes’s words and simply replied.
“Lukwell is such a far place.”
“…You send her gifts every year to show your affection, don’t you? If your heart is with someone, distance doesn’t matter.”
At Ianes’ innocent and kind response, Theogrim gave a small nod. He always found Ianes’ conventional romanticism endearing.
“But what’s the reason the 3rd Battalion has been dispatched?”
“Last night, the Lord reportedly encountered one of the dead. By the lakeside.”
“…Lakeside?”
Theogrim slightly furrowed his brows.
“Why would he be there at that hour?”
“Perhaps he sensed something in advance? He always knows things we don’t.”
The crease in Theogrim’s brow deepened ever so slightly. Misinterpreting the tension behind Theogrim’s violet eyes, Ianes once again stepped in to reassure him.
“The Lord is safe. He’s not someone who would be defeated by creatures like that. It’s just… since they came down the mountain earlier than expected, his eyes were… sharper than usual. More than usual…”
“So that’s why the 3rd Battalion is escorting the Grand Duchess.”
“Even if he doesn’t look it, Sir Exion is a knight with a holy order title, and no matter what anyone says, he is still the Lord’s godson.”
“That’s true.”
Theogrim slowly nodded. His gaze returned to the window.
They were in a secluded corridor of the fortress. Even in summer, it was chilly at the far end, and a few empty rooms were scattered throughout.
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