He knew what I was talking about, and he found it infinitely displeasing that a bastard maid like me was touching on the weakness of the nobles.

“Be careful with your words from now on, Loar.”

However, my voice carried a lot of strength. If I stopped talking now, it would be admitting my mistake.

“I have no ulterior motives, Your Highness. I will leave the palace after the competition. Before that, no one will interfere. Because I want to live a long life!”

I was suppressing my excitement, and now my breath was becoming coarse. My hands were shaking.

He, who had been staring at me intensely, spat out, in a straightforward and fierce voice full of doubt,

“I don’t trust you, Loar.”

I replied gloomily, “There’s nothing I can do about that, Your Highness.”

His puzzled expression was so vivid that it felt surreal.

“Why?”
“What are you talking about…”

“Then, what do you think Miliora will do for you?”

“… Satisfaction.”

“What?”

“I’m satisfied with living each day to the best of my ability. It’s something I have to achieve on my own that no one else can give me.”

“…”

His Highness Gracian, with a pensive expression, moved his knife again.

Even though I felt like we were in a line, elbowing each other to get food, I reluctantly started eating.

It’s not easy to bully someone who is eating the same food as you. I needed even a tiny bit of hope. Damn.

The never-ending meal finally ended, and he elegantly wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“Miliora took Rocarde to a tea party, so I called you in return, Loar.”

Kaidel Gongja had a great time and enjoyed himself, but I! If I received a call twice in return, I would be in trouble.

But I could only respond politely.

“Yes, Your Highness. Thank you for your kindness.”

I couldn’t remember how I had escaped from the Second Prince’s Palace.

Late at night, Rocarde, with a weary face, entered Gracian’s bedroom. Gracian was drinking alone.

Already pleasantly drunk, Rocarde complained to the prince.

“Why did you have to call me just because you slept at home today?”

“I can’t sleep without you.”

Rocarde shivered and clapped his hands.

“Please, don’t say that where others can hear.”

Such half-joking conversations were close to a long-standing habit.

Forcing awkward jokes to ease tension on the battlefield.

Why he was here, focusing only on what was in front of him to soothe his anger moment by moment—all of it.

Gracian said bitterly, “I didn’t spend the noisy evening just with you.”

“Did you meet a good person?”

Rocarde, aware of Gracian’s melancholy, joked as if teasing him.

Gracian’s injuries were not only physical but also mental.

Being abruptly dragged to the battlefield as the second son of the Emperor, who had grown up in the palace, was a shock in every way.

Gracian had been hiding it well until now, but since the competition began, nights of excessive sensitivity occasionally visited him.

The war here was more nerve-wracking because you couldn’t see where the enemy was, what kind of fight was going on.

Gracian had to adapt from scratch. He thought he had worn out enough.

If Rocarde hadn’t been there, he would have cracked much earlier.

So, Gracian couldn’t bear Rocarde leaving the palace even for a day.

Rocarde looked at him with warm eyes, like comforting a child.

In such cases, there was no other way. He had to comfort and put the master to sleep.

Gracian turned the cup wrapped in his palm and mumbled.

“A good person… yeah. To someone, I am a good person. I had dinner with Loar today, Rocarde.”

“…”
Rocarde sat across from Gracian, and Gracian, seeing the disappearance of laughter from his face, spoke.

“I didn’t say I would kill her. Don’t worry.”

“Do you have to say that to not scare me?”

“Who are you?”

“Well… Please don’t say strange things.”

“The maid said she helps Miliora because she finds satisfaction in living her life to the best of her ability. She claims it’s something only she can achieve… Terribly.”

“…Sounds like her.”

Rocarde got up and poured his share of alcohol.

“Why does her doing her best in her life make Your Highness melancholic?”

“I was thinking about that just now.”

“So, did it come to you?”

Gracian stared at Rocarde, seemingly lost in thought.

“I didn’t have a life.”