Cyrene stared blankly out the window. Everything she saw was new to her. Traveling through magical means, seeing mountains and fields, seeing a lake—everything was unfamiliar.

“Shall we stop for a meal?”

“Yes.”

Before Ilion could step out of the carriage, Cyrene jumped out eagerly, her excitement shining through. Behind her, Ilion let out a helpless chuckle and followed her. The servants laid down a thick cloth to prepare a space, while the knights took up their positions around the area.

She looked at the lake she was seeing for the first time, mesmerized, and stepped closer.

“Don’t go in.”

As she absentmindedly began to dip her foot into the water, Ilion caught her arm. Smiling faintly, he sat by the lakeside and dipped his hand into the water instead.

“It’s deeper than it looks.”

“How deep is it? As deep as the sea?”

“Not as deep as the sea, I’d imagine. Have you been to the sea?”

“No. But I know what it is. Can’t I go into the lake?”

“If you know how to swim, then yes.”

“…I don’t know how to swim.”

At her response, he burst out laughing. Cyrene sat by the lakeside, mirroring him, and dipped her hand into the water. It was icy cold, enough to make her entire body shiver.

“In summer, it’d be nice to dip your feet in, but it’s too cold now.”

“I want to dip my feet in.”

Cyrene sprang to her feet, her hands moving to loosen the ties of her dress. Startled, Ilion quickly grabbed her wrists, his face a blend of shock and alarm.

Kneeling before her, he released her hands and gently removed her shoes. Then, with deliberate care, he pulled off her smooth stockings, his movements slow and precise.

“There. Just your feet, nothing more.”

Cyrene sat by the lakeside, dipping her toes into the water. The icy chill climbed up her legs, sharp enough to make her head feel numb.

“Haa…”

The cold was so intense that her teeth were chattering, but her spirits were high. Instead of stopping her, Ilion brought a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. Soon a tray of soup, warm bread, stew and some fruit was placed on her lap. Someone must have prepared it while she wasn’t looking.

To be honest, the food wasn’t very tasty. Compared to the meals she ate in Areos’ palace, it was plain and unremarkable. But simply eating in a completely new place, enjoying the view, made the meal satisfying in its own way.

“It’s cold.”

Cyrene said with a laugh, pulling her pale, frozen feet out of the water. Ilion dried them with a towel and wrapped them in a blanket. Then, he sat beside her and casually bit into a piece of bread.

Cyrene watched him quietly, blinking as if lost in thought. It had been almost three days since she and Ilion had begun their journey. Their destination was far away, so even with magical travel, it was a journey of constant movement.

It’s… nice.

At first, all she felt was fear. Afraid to leave Areos, afraid that Ilion might turn out to be another dangerous person, and filled with dread at the thought of being taken to an unknown place. But in the last three days, Cyrene had discovered something else – something new.

She learned that in a place called a “restaurant”, one could only order from the available menu. She learned that the beds in the inns were a little harder than what she was used to.

The mountains were much higher and more imposing than she had imagined, and the lake was so clear that the bottom seemed close enough to touch. Sunlight danced over the still water, sparkling like broken glass.

“Ilion.”

“Yes?”

“Where are we going?”

For the first time, Cyrene asked the question. All her life she had been forbidden to be curious, yet she found herself wanting to know so much when it came to Ilion. He smiled weakly at her question.

“We’re going to the Marquisate of Laska.”

“The Marquisate of Laska…”

Did that mean it was his home?

Cyrene blinked.

“It’s a place that’s a bit cold right now. For someone like you, who has lived in such warmth, it might be a bit of a challenge.”

His expression clouded for a moment, as if the thought had just occurred to him.

“I should send a messenger ahead to prepare a proper coat for you.”

“How cold is it?”

“Cold enough for the lake to freeze.”

Cyrene looked at the gently rippling surface of the lake. She couldn’t quite imagine what such cold would feel like. Winter had come to the capital, but in the Crown Prince’s palace, the only signs of the season were the fountains, which were completely drained during the colder months.

“Is there anything you’d like to do?”

“Like what?”

“Anything. Whatever it is, I want to make it happen for you.”

His words were simple, yet filled with sincerity.

She stared quietly at Ilion’s face. Over the past three days, he had been nothing but kind—so much so it made her feel a little uneasy, like an itch she couldn’t quite scratch. He hadn’t tried to lift her skirt, nor did he cross any boundaries. When she fell asleep, he simply lent her his shoulder without a word.

“Why?”

Why was Ilion so kind?

Cyrene blinked. His kindness was different from Areos’s. She couldn’t clearly articulate how, but she could feel the difference in her heart.

At her question, Ilion hesitated for a moment.

“…It’s just how I feel.”

Cyrene observed him intently for a moment, then gave a slight nod of acknowledgment. She turned her gaze back to the lake. The question of why lingered briefly, but in the end, she decided it didn’t really matter.

Ilion hadn’t changed. From the moment she had first met him, he had been a warm and gentle person.

Her thoughts drifted to Areos.

His Highness… I don’t know.

When she thought of the count, Areos seemed kind. But when she thought of Ilion, his actions no longer felt as kind as they once had. He would hurt her, only to caress her gently as if nothing had happened. Areos was a man whose emotions swung wildly, like a storm that raged whenever it pleased.

She bit into a piece of fruit. Not long ago, she had cried and begged not to be abandoned. But now she thought it might have been for the best that Areos had let her go.

For a fleeting moment, she felt she didn’t want to go back.

***

“Wow…”

Cyrene’s eyes widened in awe. Before her stood a stone castle the likes of which she had only seen in fairy tales. Compared to the dazzling gold and pristine white walls of the buildings in the capital, this castle was rugged – so much so that to call it crude didn’t even begin to describe it.

She looked at Ilion, who scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“This is the first time I’ve seen anything like this.”

“Is it? It may not be the most comfortable place to live, but I’ll do my best to make your stay here as pleasant as possible,” he said, taking her hand gently and leading her forward.

She looked around as she walked, her eyes darting in all directions. Countless gazes followed her, some familiar, others filled with curiosity. Even the humans fascinated her. In the Crown Prince’s palace, the number of people she encountered was always limited, so this bustling scene was a completely new experience.

“This will be your room.”

Inside, a fireplace burned brightly, its warmth filling the room. The walls were decorated with tapestries of beautiful landscapes, and a rug of animal skin covered the floor.

She entered quickly, almost skipping. The cosy warmth brushed pleasantly against her cheeks. The bed, neither too big nor too small, wasn’t the softest, but compared to the ones at the inn, it was wonderfully comfortable.

“Ah!”

She let out a delighted squeal as she flopped onto the bed. Ilion stood by the door, arms crossed, watching her with an amused expression. Cyrene sat up abruptly and beckoned him over.

“Ilion.”

“Do you like it?”

‘Doesn’t he understand?’ she thought.

Getting off the bed, she walked over to him, took his hand and led him to the bed.

“Sit.”

Come to think of it, this was the first time they had been alone in a room together. Cyrene made no attempt to hide her excitement. Whether it was the warmth in the air or her own emotions, a blush rose to her cheeks. She took his hand and placed it gently against her blushing cheek, where a faint tremor passed through.

His rough palm brushed gently across her skin, sending a tingling sensation to her ears. Slowly, Cyrene pressed her hands against his shoulders and climbed onto his lap.

As her weight settled firmly on him, Ilion’s body sank into the bed. She felt his hand run slowly down her lower back. Cyrene let out a small laugh. He loosened the fastened edge of her cloak, the soft fur brushing against her shoulders with a faint rustling sound.

“Cyrene.”

A whisper, tight and restrained, filled the room. As she leaned closer to Ilion’s lips, his warm breath mingled with hers, intensifying the heat between them. Something firm pressed against her lower body, causing her breath to catch.

“Haa…”

A sigh, laced with excitement, escaped her lips. Was it the lack of any release during their journey, or was it because the person in front of her was Ilion? Whatever the reason, warmth spread through her body, igniting every nerve.