“Grrr.”
The fierce dog, which until a moment ago had seemed ready to devour Diego, tucked its tail between its legs and flattened its stance.
Despite its ingrained aggression, the beast knew exactly who to lunge at and who to fear.
With a short, airy chuckle, Diego hurried to walk beside Irene. She glanced back, her gaze lingering on the sharp, blue-tinted blade glistening in the sunlight.
As if he could read her thoughts, Diego added nonchalantly.
“My escort is a bit overly concerned. To others, it might seem excessive.”
He called out to Javier.
“That’s enough. Let’s go.”
Javier did not sheath the blade immediately, as if he could not forgive the lowly creature for daring to bare its teeth at his master. Passersby alternated their gazes between the man and the dog, whispering in confusion.
“Do not make me say it twice.”
Diego’s voice dropped a register. Only then did Javier tuck the dagger back into his coat, fading once more into Diego’s shadow.
They began to walk in silence until Diego broke it with a voice as light as casual conversation.
“Worrying about carriage accidents and taking a long way around to avoid a fierce dog… it seems your personality is more timid than you look.”
“I am not timid.”
“Not timid?”
Diego echoed her, though he didn’t seem to believe her. If this wasn’t timid, then what was?
A thought occurred to him, and he furrowed his brows.
“Though, you didn’t seem afraid when you were slicing open a corpse.”
A smile played on Diego’s lips, but his eyes remained sharp, as if trying to discern which of these contradictory facets was her true self.
Irene spoke in a dry tone.
“I am not timid.”
“…….”
“I just don’t want to die.”
“……Don’t want to die.”
Diego parroted her words. This time, his voice was low and somber, almost like he was speaking to himself.
“Yes. I want to live. For a very long time.”
For a very long time.
Anyone looking at them would say Diego was favored by divine grace. A noble lineage, immense power, a polished appearance, and silver-tongued eloquence—he was beloved by the world.
Conversely, Irene stood at the polar opposite. The illegitimate daughter of a provincial baron, wearing a threadbare dress, possessing clumsy social skills and a stubborn temperament. No one loved her. Not even her own family.
Yet, Irene Rios said she didn’t want to die. Diego, who had received every blessing imaginable, wouldn’t have minded if this tedious life ended at any moment, but the ill-fated Irene clung to hers. And for a very long time, at that.
Why?
What was so interesting about living? Did she possess something that he didn’t?
“…….”
As Diego fell into deep thought, a silence as heavy as a boulder descended between them.
Irene was not the talkative type, nor was she one to shower others with flattery to win their favor. The only things interrupting the quiet were the rumble of passing carriage wheels and the red glow of the setting sun. Yet, it didn’t feel uncomfortable.
“Wanting to live for a very long time…….”
If he had to describe his current mood, it wouldn’t be incorrect to call it pleasant. Diego softened his expression, surveying his surroundings with languid eyes. He enjoyed the rare quiet—the breeze brushing his cheeks, the rustling leaves.
After some time had passed, Javier spoke up abruptly.
“Your Highness.”
That was all, but Diego knew what he was about to say. His own expression stiffened.
“Ha.”
Diego let out a hollow laugh. Since leaving Baron Rios’s house, they had walked for at least two hours. Yet, the Royal Medical College was nowhere in sight.
This was Diego’s first time in Therapia; he had no idea where the college was located. That was the coachman’s job, not his.
The pleasant mood vanished, and his stomach began to churn. Seeing the side of Irene’s face as she walked with such indifferent composure only made his irritation burn brighter.
He couldn’t explain why, but one thing was clear: she had walked this very path this morning, too. Because of him.
“Haha.”
A dry laugh erupted once more. She was a baron’s daughter, yet she walked this massive distance back and forth?
Diego thought of Baron Rios’s face, and his well-dressed wife and children. Every household had its own circumstances, but—
“This feels disgusting.”
“Pardon?”
Javier asked, having missed the low murmur. Diego didn’t answer, offering a radiant smile instead. He turned his gaze toward Irene, his voice as sweet as a rose.
“I would love to show you my estate in Norte, Irene. It’s a much warmer place than this.”
Hm?
Irene tilted her head ever so slightly. It was so minute that if Diego hadn’t been a sharp observer, he wouldn’t have noticed.
She blinked slowly, a quiet habit, and opened her mouth.
“According to the encyclopedia I read, Norte is the northernmost territory of The Kingdom of Divoa. The average temperature is 15 degrees, a rather cool climate. It is not uncommon for the temperature to drop to minus 20 degrees in winter.”
“You know it well. Are you interested in Norte? If you were to visit, I would throw the gates of my castle wide open for you at any time.”
Diego spread his arms wide, as if greeting her. Irene’s expression remained unchanged.
“On the other hand, the average temperature in Therapia is 20 degrees. It is rare for it to drop below minus 10 degrees even in midwinter.”
“Hmm.”
Diego asked back with a skeptical expression.
“It seems you have a deep interest in temperature.”
Irene shook her head. This wasn’t the first time; people often didn’t understand what she was saying. Actually, it happened more often than not.
“In other words, objectively speaking, Therapia is warmer than Norte.”
“Ah.”
Only then realizing her intent, Diego curved his eyes in amusement.
“I meant that, subjectively, Norte is warmer than Therapia.”
“Subjectively?”
Irene’s eyes widened slightly. Curiosity bloomed in her pupils. It wasn’t the reaction he had expected, but the blue of her eyes sparkled with a sudden vitality. It was much better to look at than her usual blankness.
“Can temperature be measured subjectively?”
“I’m not talking about the temperature. I’m talking about the people. Norte may be at the northernmost tip of the kingdom, but the residents there are less desolate than the people in Therapia. We have a common enemy: the Alvar Kingdom. It acts as a center of gravity that binds us together. Moreover, the residents there are more innocent than the people here. That is what I meant by it feeling warmer.”
“Yes.”
Irene nodded reluctantly. Things that couldn’t be seen couldn’t be measured, and things that couldn’t be measured couldn’t be compared objectively. Therefore, the claim that the people of Norte were warmer was an unprovable hypothesis.
However, she said nothing. Like Leti said, she was different from ordinary people.
Perhaps ordinary people measured temperature subjectively, too. It seemed there were implicit rules in the world that only she didn’t know about. In times like this, silence was the best policy. Wasn’t there a saying that staying quiet keeps you out of trouble?
Of course, Irene never quite managed to stay out of trouble.
“I am very much looking forward to the day Irene visits my estate.”
Irene, who had been about to retort, kept her mouth shut. Diego hadn’t suffered a head injury, and he hadn’t forgotten her refusal. He was simply persistent.
The sky had grown dark, and the school gates were becoming visible. It was almost time for them to be locked. The caretaker was in the middle of closing them when Irene bolted forward like an arrow.
Before Diego could even reach out to stop her.
“…….”
Just as she passed through the gates narrowly before they shut, the caretaker frowned.
“Oh my. Weren’t you supposed to stay at home tonight? I recall you getting a permit for an overnight stay.”
“I think I must have misunderstood the contents of the letter.”
“Have you eaten? It’s past the dormitory dining hours.”
“I’m fine.”
“I see. Then have a pleasant night, Miss Rios.”
Nodding, Irene walked toward the dormitory. The caretaker, about to finish closing the gate, spotted Diego standing beyond it and wore a puzzled expression.
Diego stared blankly at Irene’s back as she disappeared into the darkness without a parting word.
His eyes darkened. Irene had walked that long distance round-trip because of a single word from him. She had missed dinner. Perhaps, in her hurry, she had skipped lunch as well. She hadn’t even been able to drink a cup of tea at Baron Rios’s house.
“Ha.”
A brittle laugh escaped him. Diego never hesitated to use any means necessary to get what he wanted, but this was the first time he had felt this disgusted with himself.