I had said something similar when I first rescued him from the orphan. But then it wasn’t out of remorse. At that time, I only saw my actions as morally wrong from a human perspective – nothing more. I didn’t care then, so why was I crying now?

I reached out and lifted his hair, revealing the face I had scarred with fire. If I had developed emotions a little earlier, what would have happened?

If I had felt the slightest hesitation, would I have kept him by my side? His hair slipped through my fingers and fell back over his face, covering it once more.

In the future, he would come to hate his own face. Despite this hatred, he never tried to remove the scars, keeping them only as a reminder of his hatred for me.

If that’s true, Zetak probably still remembers his hatred every time he looks in the mirror and relives what I did to him. Should I remove his eyes? Then he wouldn’t have to see his face, and his hatred for me wouldn’t grow. Perhaps I should offer mine in exchange for his.

“How could I…?”

For some reason, my voice felt choked. The pain that once felt like it was tearing my heart apart was gone, but it was still hard to speak.

“What could I do to make you stop hating me so much?”

“…”

“I wish… you didn’t hate me.”

“…”

“I know it’s impossible. But at least… I hope you don’t hate me any more than you already do.”

From Zetak’s point of view, it was a terribly infuriating thing to say. Who could be so selfish? Even if he got angry, I’d have no excuse. But contrary to my expectations, he didn’t get angry. Instead, his face darkened.

“Perhaps Your Highness…”

Zetak gently brushed his fingers over my tear-stained eyes. Perhaps they were a little stinging from all the crying.

“Maybe it would be better for you… if you never experienced emotions in your whole life.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It’s just a thought. Could you really bear the weight of emotions you’ve never known in your whole life?”

“…”

“Besides, I have heard that your condition is incurable. Maybe it’s for the best.”

No. That was just something I made up. I was just repeating what the palace doctor had said when he examined me as a child. If emotions could arise even in an ancient demon, then one day I would understand them all – the joy that humans feel, sorrow, the feeling of liking someone, happiness, self-sacrifice for others – I would eventually understand these things. It would take time, but that day would come.

“Do you want me to remain in a state where I can’t feel emotions?”

“…”

Zetak’s eyes were full of contradictions – he seemed to want me to stay as I was, without emotions, yet he also wanted me to learn them. Why did he look like that? To bear the weight of emotions – what did that even mean? Was feeling emotions really an act that required such responsibility? Is this the burden that all humans carry?

In the end, Zetach didn’t answer. He didn’t seem to want to. I decided not to press him. It didn’t really matter, not at the moment. The priority was to achieve what I had come for.

“If you don’t want to talk, then don’t. Just wait here while I go about my business.”

“But…”

“I’m only going to the administration palace. When I go to the orphanage, I’ll take you with me.”

I promised. Only then did Zetak stop walking. He still looked unhappy, but he didn’t press the matter. I didn’t mind taking him with me, but I preferred to go alone if possible. Maybe I didn’t want him to see the entry and exit documents – it might just bring back old memories.

Although we’d got a bit lost, the administrative palace wasn’t far away. After walking down a long corridor, I entered the palace and was greeted by an elderly official.

“Greetings, Your Highness. What brings you here?”

“Bring me the documents for the child who served as my personal attendant five years ago. They haven’t been thrown away, have they?”

The official tilted his head at my words.

“This is strange. Someone else was looking for these documents not long ago… Please wait a moment.”

The person who looked for them recently was probably Karial. Contrary to my expectation that it would take some time, the officer returned in less than ten minutes. Zetak’s irregular deportation must have warranted a special classification. The officer handed me four documents bound into a file.

“Is that all?”

“He’s a commoner, Your Highness. There aren’t many documents. There’s a letter of recommendation, the contract, his personal papers and finally the document for his departure.”

“I understand. You may go. I will call you if I need anything else.”

As I read through the first page, I came across an unexpected piece of information – his birthday. Of course, Zetak’s date of birth was listed in the documents. As I had to earn his goodwill, this was a valuable piece of information.

What did Zetak like? At the time he said he wanted to learn swordsmanship, so I would have bought him a sword. But now that he had become a demon, a sword would be of no use to him. As I thought about it, an unexpected memory came to mind.

“Your birthday is coming up.”

“Your Highness… You remembered my birthday.”

A bright smile. The smile of a child who seemed to have won over the whole world, radiating happiness. It was a strange memory. To remember the birthday of a mere servant – it seemed unusual. How could I remember such a thing? Was there some special reason? As I followed my thoughts, other memories came to mind.

“It wasn’t that I remembered it – it was imprinted on me. Didn’t you start singing about it a month ago?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t pretend. You kept humming your birthday date and something about wanting a handkerchief.”

“I never did that. It must be Your Highness’s imagination. You must care enough about me to remember my birthday.”

“Fine. Let’s say it is.”

How shameless. Even now I can’t help thinking what a bold child he was. His impudence reached to the heavens, and though he pretended otherwise, he always got what he wanted.

“You said you wanted a handkerchief, did you have a colour in mind?”

“Hmm, I like the one in Your Highness’s pocket.”

“The blue one? Very well, I’ll have someone prepare it…”

“I like the one in Your Highness’s pocket.”

He repeated the same words without missing a beat. Even the intonation seemed to be the same. I remembered feeling a little creeped out at the time… Maybe it was just my imagination. Anyway, that was a long time ago. Did I finally give him the handkerchief? Or did I refuse? I can’t remember. Either way, it must not have mattered much, which is probably why I just forgot about it.

I remembered Zetak’s birthday as I turned to the next page. A letter of recommendation from a noble family. I already knew who had recommended him, so I was about to turn the page when my hand froze.

“…Two recommenders?”

Marienne – I already knew her. But under her name was another family crest. Yuria Hartrain. I had never heard of Yuria, but I knew the Hartrain family. Or rather, I had recently become quite familiar with them.

“…Karial Hartrain.”

Hartrain was definitely Karial’s family. She was an only daughter, so that must be her mother’s name. I remember hearing that her mother died when she was young. Did she recommend Zetak before she died?

Looking at the date on the seal, it seems that Yuria Hartrain stepped in as a secondary sponsor right after Zetak entered the palace. But why? A child who had already been accepted wouldn’t have needed another sponsor. Could it be that Karial wanted frequent contact with Zetak, and so became a sponsor? No, that didn’t make sense – if that were the case, she wouldn’t have bothered to use her mother’s seal. Her own would have sufficed.

“Do you happen to know anything about the Countess of the Hartrain family?”

I asked the officer who had brought me the documents.

He nodded.

“Yes, she was quite well known in social circles. She was often called the ‘flower of high society’ because of her graceful demeanour.”

“Graceful?”

Thick, almost vulgar make-up and a sultry smile, seemingly designed to seduce men. The doll, which Karial said was modelled on her mother, looked more like a courtesan than anything else.

It didn’t fit the image of someone considered graceful. Could it be that the public image was different from the way Karial saw her mother? Or were they different people altogether?

“She was an unfortunate figure who died at a young age. If not for the accident…”

“Accident?”

“She was reportedly attacked by bandits on her way back from the palace. They never caught the culprit…”

The officer lowered his voice.

“The Count’s family tried to cover it up, but the truth is, it’s more likely she was killed in revenge than by some random bandit. They say her body was mutilated.”

“Was she the type to make enemies?”

“I’m not sure. She was always so quiet… Maybe it wasn’t revenge, more like a love affair gone wrong.”

Should I ask Zetak about this? If she was his second sponsor, they must have had some interaction. I knew Karial had called him often, but I hadn’t realised he had a connection with her mother.

I turned to the next page, which revealed Zetak’s origins: Adriya National Orphanage in Sector 12.

Adriya… The name certainly stirred something in my memory.