Chapter 3.5

As soon as the meeting ended, he hurriedly fled back to his room. He had been so entranced by staring at Greta’s face the entire time that he hadn’t heard a single word spoken during the meeting.  

Even though the night deepened, Ragaen couldn’t fall asleep.  

In the silent darkness, where the only sound was the wind rattling the windows, stray thoughts often came uninvited. Sometimes, those thoughts brought along unwelcome guests to his mental world. Tonight, too, a guest visited Ragaen’s thoughts. The guest’s name was Greta Lievo.  

In truth, the invisible night guest had started visiting him during his last expedition. Struggling to recall Greta’s face—drawing it, erasing it, and redrawing it repeatedly without ever completing the picture—he had ended up surrendering his sweet pre-sleep hours to thoughts of Greta.  

Thump-thump.  

Whenever he thought of Greta, his heart raced more impatiently than usual. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but not entirely unpleasant. He didn’t know exactly what it was, but he was sure it wasn’t fear, anxiety, or tension—emotions he was all too familiar with.  

However, tonight, it was a little—or rather, very—uncomfortable.  

Thump-thump-thump.  

His heart pounded as if it had lost its mind. The intensity was so overwhelming that his chest felt sore.  

‘I need to sleep.’  

Ragaen tried to stop thinking and closed his eyes. Or at least, he tried to. But Greta’s face kept appearing, making his heart race uncontrollably. He attempted deep breathing to calm himself, but every time Greta’s face resurfaced, his efforts proved futile.  

“D*mn it….”  

Hunger and thirst struck him.  

Ragaen swallowed dryly.  

“…I’ve gone mad.”  

The man instinctively knew. This was a craving that no food could satisfy.  

Ragaen suddenly stood up.  

“I’ve lost my mind!”  

What he was feeling was utterly shameless and disgraceful.  

To have such thoughts about a woman six years younger than him—a pure, innocent fan!  

No, no. This was nothing. It really wasn’t anything!  

That night, Ragaen’s dreams were completely painted in shades of flesh.  

The next morning, when he woke up and saw the tent pitched on his bed, memories of what had happened in his dream came flooding back, leaving him overwhelmed with indescribable guilt for quite some time.  

After standing under cold water for a long time to wash away his guilt, Ragaen followed Murray, the new training instructor. Despite his large frame, he was incredibly nimble and skilled at concealing his presence, so much so that Murray didn’t even realize he was being tailed.  

‘Sending such a sloppy guy as a training instructor… As expected, Lucas Nindella’s judgment can’t be trusted.’  

Ragaen coldly evaluated him without considering that his own skills might simply be exceptionally superior.  

Before long, Murray met up with Greta and began walking with her.  

Unlike the light attire she wore inside the castle the previous evening, Greta was now bundled up in thick winter clothes. Her slightly waddling steps were adorable. The gray coat she wore made her look like a baby grizzly bear he had encountered last spring.  

Just as his mood began to improve at the sight, it quickly soured. The distance between Greta and Murray grew closer, and soon they were whispering to each other. At that moment, Ragaen became furious. He wanted to throw that lanky Murray over the castle walls and into the snowfields.  

His anger burned hotter than when he encountered the noisy Ritmaom during the early summer expedition or when Michael delayed their schedule by hours. He disliked Murray more than both of them combined. Without realizing it, Ragaen directed a murderous glare at Murray. The lanky man, oblivious to his surroundings, failed to notice the killing intent aimed at him.  

‘D*mn it…!’  

What a childish thing to do.  

Suddenly overwhelmed by embarrassment, Ragaen let out a deep sigh.  

‘This is jealousy over losing my one and only female fan. It’s nothing else. Nothing else.’  

He repeated this to himself several times in an attempt to convince himself.  

“D*mn it.”  

It was pointless.  

Just seeing Greta chatting closely with that lanky man made his insides burn as if he had swallowed fire. After glaring at Murray once more with sharp eyes and sending another wave of murderous intent his way, Ragaen abruptly turned around. He decided he needed to see Lucas Nindella’s annoying face to distract himself from Greta and Murray. Unfortunately, Lucas Nindella’s bad luck proved to be so immense that the plan backfired.  

The Duke of Adantie must not be discovered in Debius. If word got out that the Duke of Adantie was here, the Crown Prince would be furious. He must not be caught. But, but!  

He wanted to talk to Greta. He wanted to see Greta up close. 

Just a little closer, just a little more. So….  

‘Would it be okay to tell Greta alone?’  

The Marquis of Debius already knew his identity, thanks to Lucas Nindella’s prior notice. Adding one more person, Greta, wouldn’t make much of a difference. Greta would surely keep his secret. Nothing catastrophic would happen. Besides, Greta wasn’t just anyone—she was his fan! Not just any fan, but someone he exchanged fan letters with and attended the hunting competition alongside. They weren’t just ordinary fan and star; they were closer than that!  

‘Yes. I’ll tell Greta alone.’  

Ragaen made up his mind.  

***

Greta, exhausted to the point where her entire body felt limp after spending the whole day briefing the new training instructor, Sir Murray, headed towards her room.  

The corridor leading to her room was pitch dark.  

‘Are the magic stones depleted? All the lights are out.’  

The magic stones powering the lamps in the corridor were consumables that needed to be replaced on time. Since the intensity of the light remained constant until the stones were completely drained, it was easy to miss the timing for replacement.  

Clatter, clatter. 

The fierce cold wind blowing from the Zelita Snowfields rattled the windows, sending an eerie chill down her spine.  

‘Ugh, this is scary. I need to hurry.’  

As Greta quickened her pace, she suddenly felt the presence of someone following her.  

Step, step, step.

Thud, thud, thud.

It was unmistakably the sound of footsteps following her.  

The Debius Castle was safe. Having stayed there for nearly two months, Greta had come to know all the faces of the staff, who were practically like family by now. No one she knew would play such a creepy prank.  

Whip!  

“Ah!”  

Summoning her courage, Greta turned around abruptly, only to gasp in shock.  

The hooded man who had glared at her so menacingly in the conference room the previous day was standing right in front of her. Startled to the point where her heart felt like it dropped, Greta held her breath momentarily before letting out a scream.  

“Kyaaaahhh!”  

“Shh!”  

Her mouth was covered.  

“Mmmpf! Mmmpfmmmpf!”  

“…Greta.”  

“Mmmpf?”  

“I didn’t deliberately try to conceal my presence, but if I startled you, I apologize, Greta.”  

“Mmmpf?”  

The man removed his hood.  

Jet-black hair, blue eyes, a small scar on his eyebrow, and a masculine jawline. His deep, monotonous voice resonated.  

“Mmmpf…? Mmmpf, mmmpf?”  

“Greta, promise me you’ll stay quiet.”  

She nodded.  

Ragaen removed the hand that had been covering Greta’s mouth—or rather, her entire lower face.  

“Phew! Your Grace?!”  

“Yes.”  

“What brings you here? Is it really you, Your Grace? Is it really, really you?”  

Greta’s voice grew louder. At this, Ragaen placed a finger to his lips and said,  

“Shh, my presence here in Debius is a secret.”  

“A secret?!”  

“Yes, so please don’t address me as ‘Your Grace’….”  

“This way!”  

“Gre-Greta?”  

Her small hands grabbed Ragaen’s arm and pulled him along. The force, feather-light and delicate, felt like a powerful spell guiding him.  

The place Greta led him to was none other than her room. Unlike the dark corridor, the room was filled with cozy warmth. Tara had taken special care to ensure that Greta, who was sensitive to the cold, had not only a heated bed but also warming artifacts throughout the room, along with a well-stocked fireplace.  

Though the room wasn’t lit, the glow from the roaring fireplace provided enough light to keep it from feeling dark.  

“Please, have a seat.”  

When Ragaen sat down, the single-seater sofa, which was slightly large for Greta, was completely occupied.  

“I only have water to offer.”  

“That’s fine.”  

Greta handed him a glass of water and sat across from him.  

This moment felt so unreal that Greta didn’t feel nervous at all.  

“What brings you to Debius? And why is it a secret?”  

“If news spreads that I am in Debius, people might… unnecessarily worry about the monsters in the Zelita Snowfields. That’s why I’ve come in secret.”  

At this, Greta raised her eyebrows.  

“There are a lot of monsters in the Snowfields, but monsters are everywhere, aren’t they?”  

“Yes. That’s why, except for the summer expeditions, I don’t leave the capital.”  

“My goodness. So, ever since the war ended, you’ve stayed in the capital except for the summer expeditions?”  

“Yes, that’s correct.”  

“My goodness….”  

Although Greta firmly believed that “leaving home only brings trouble,” the idea of staying in the capital for years on end sounded suffocating. Expeditions were still work, after all. No matter how wonderful the destination, it couldn’t be enjoyable if it was for work.  

“Is the monster problem in the Snowfields that serious? Serious enough for you to come here, Your Grace?”  

“…His Majesty believes it’s better to prepare in advance.”  

The issue with the monsters in the Snowfields didn’t concern him much; he had come simply because he wanted to see her.  

Ragaen swallowed the words that had risen to his throat.  

Those were words a fan might say to a star—not something a star would say to a fan.  

The crackling sound of firewood burning filled the room. The flickering firelight illuminated Greta’s face, highlighting her forehead, cheeks, nose, and lips. Ragaen’s eyes roamed over her glowing face, unable to look away.  

A scene from the previous night’s dream flashed through his mind. The images were far too inappropriate to recall while looking at Greta.  

He gulped, suddenly feeling parched, and hastily drank the water on the table.  

“Would you like more?”  

“No, I’m fine.”  

Water wouldn’t quench this thirst anyway.  

“Your Grace, how was the expedition? Weren’t you supposed to return later? Was it very hot? I hope the Dadian leaves helped. Oh! Did Devin enjoy the sugar cubes I sent?”  

Greta poured out questions, one after another, as they came to mind. But then, noticing Ragaen’s gaze fixed on her, she trailed off.  

“Um, I guess I got carried away, huh? I was just so happy to see you again that I….”  

“I’m happy to see you too.”  

“Pardon?”  

“I’m also delighted to see you again, Greta.”  

His unwavering blue eyes looked straight at her.  

Greta’s neck turned red. A wave of heat rose from her neck to her cheeks, ears, and finally her entire face, turning it bright red.  

“I’m really, really happy to see you too, Your Grace.”  

Thanks to the red glow of the fireplace, Ragaen didn’t notice Greta’s flushed face. He only thought her slightly pinkish face looked lovely and found himself wanting to touch it.  

“Oh.”  

What am I thinking?  

Ragaen was startled by his own thoughts. His neck and ears burned with embarrassment.  

“What’s wrong?”  

“…It’s getting late. I should go. My apologies for visiting so late, Greta. And for startling you earlier.”  

“No, it’s fine. But if it’s a secret that you’re here, should I pretend not to know you starting tomorrow?”  

He might not be able to bear it if that happened. Though he didn’t know exactly what he wouldn’t be able to bear.  

“Marquis Debius knows I’m here. From tomorrow, call me Sol.”  

The hero of the nation, the Empire’s First Knight, Ragaen Sol Adantie.  

“Ragaen Sol. That’s my whole name.”  

Mercenary Ragaen Sol.  

“Sol.”  

“Yes. That’s fine.”  

What’s fine? Ragaen himself didn’t know.  

“Then, I’ll see you tomorrow.”  

Just as he opened the door to leave, Greta gently grabbed the hem of his clothes. For some reason, Greta’s touch, soft and delicate like a feather, always managed to hold him firmly in place.  

He turned back to her. Greta, her lips pursed and her cheeks puffed out, looked up at him with a determined expression.  

“In the capital…!”  

Greta began.  

“May I call you by your name?”  

“…….”  

“Since you call me by my name, I’d like to call you Ragaen!”  

At that moment, Ragaen admitted it to himself.  

The reason he liked being called Sol was simply because it was Greta who called him that.  

“If you want to, you may call me that anytime, Greta.”  

After all, he had no affection for the name left behind by the father who had abandoned him.  

Ragaen smiled.