“Right then, fresh off the line—we have a slave for your inspection! Tall, broad-shouldered, and handsome enough that you could put him to use in any number of ways!”
A vulgar patter blared through a speaker and filled the room.
Calypse, who had been frowning at the headache building behind his eyes, lifted his eyelids—and found himself looking down at a sea of greedy faces staring back up at him.
He was in a cage on a stage.
He had been forcibly seated in a chair, his wrists bound behind his back. That told him more or less what kind of situation he had fallen into.
‘I went looking for a quieter path because crowds make me uncomfortable, and now I’ve walked straight into this.’
Twenty-two-year-old Calypse had been attending a friendship banquet held to promote goodwill between the Kingdom of Doctia and the Kingdom of Frozen.
But he had been someone ill-suited to socializing his entire life.
As a member of House Krost, his purpose was the subjugation of Creatures. He spent his days standing guard at the edge of the world, preventing the Creatures from breaking through, and repairing the ice wall with his Ice Affinity whenever it fractured.
That was the full extent of his role, he had decided—which meant he had no reason to remain at a friendship gathering—and so he had made his escape.
And woke up to this.
‘Ha.’
He wondered, distantly, if accepting the drinks that the two kings had pressed upon him had been his undoing. He wasn’t ordinarily easy to get drunk—but he had felt dizzy unusually quickly that evening. Someone had gone to the trouble of arranging all this in advance.
Whoever it was, House Krost’s formidable Affinity and power had always made it a target. Assassination threats were not unusual. This particular approach was new enough to be almost refreshing, but hardly surprising.
“One hundred gold! One hundred gold has been offered. Oh my—a gentleman in the red mask bids one-fifty!”
Meanwhile, Calypse’s auction price was climbing far beyond what he would have expected, entirely without his consent.
‘Once the final price is set and the door opens, I’ll use that moment to escape.’
He could have simply used his Ice Affinity to shatter the cage and break free—but since he didn’t know the identities of the people participating in the auction, he decided it was wiser to hold back. If a noble were to die in the process, things would get complicated.
Instead he began searching for the exit.
Once he was out, his plan was to freeze every single guard solid.
“Three hundred gold! Three hundred gold, ladies and gentlemen. Just as anticipated—extremely fierce bidding—and there, the lady at the back offers three-fifty!”
With time on his hands, he decided he might as well watch and see how high his price went.
Calypse leaned back against the chair and cracked his neck to either side—left, then right. The clean, strong line of his neck emerged as he turned, his gaze indifferent—
“……!”
And the crowd, stirred, began raising their paddles in a frenzy.
“Four hundred! Four-fifty, five hundred, five-fifty, six hundred—oh my—the gentleman there bids one thousand! One thousand gold! We have broken one thousand gold! Eleven hundred! Twelve hundred!”
An excited auctioneer swung his gaze about the room—and then froze with his mouth wide open as it landed on one corner of the room.
“Five thousand gold!”
At the auctioneer’s cry, every person in the room turned with their mouth agape.
Five thousand gold was a staggering sum even for the nobility.
Even high-ranking nobleman Calypse was moved enough to lift his half-lowered gaze at the number.
He looked toward the far corner—and met the steady gaze of golden eyes behind a white mask, watching him in unbroken quiet.
“……”
The woman’s gaze was direct. Most people who met Calypse’s eyes looked away within three seconds. She held it for longer.
So he looked back at her carefully.
Beneath the mask that covered half her face—a long, slender neck, and pale, flawless skin. Lips forming a quiet graceful arc, and those golden eyes vivid as sunlight.
Even through the mask, he could tell. The woman was beautiful.
But what struck him most was the gaze that refused to leave his face.
“Five thousand gold. Any further bids? Five—four—three—two—one. Sold! To the lovely lady at five thousand gold!”
But the intensity of the moment ended when Calypse looked away first.
In the end, that woman had treated a person as an object. Whatever impression she had made, she was not the sort of person he had any interest in engaging with.
So—time to freeze the room.
The moment the auction closed, the mercenaries guarding either side of the cage opened the door. Calypse rose slowly from the chair and was about to snap the rope binding his wrists when—
“Raid! This is an illegal operation!”
The woman who had bought him tore off her mask and shouted—and simultaneously, armed figures surged in from every direction.
Knights who had been lying in wait.
“Damn it all—run! Everyone run! And get that one out of here too—he’s worth money!”
The panicking auctioneer pointed at Calypse, who was standing completely still—but of course, Calypse had no intention of going anywhere.
“Move! Move, slave—urk—!”
“Be quiet.”
When he ignored the mercenaries grabbing at him from both sides, the auctioneer himself came running over, squealing and heaving. Calypse closed a large hand around the man’s throat and squeezed—the auctioneer choked and promptly went limp.
‘The auctioneer is likely the linchpin of this operation—he needs to be detained.’
Calypse quickly subdued the others nearby as well. Then, still holding the auctioneer by the throat, he turned around—and found himself face to face with the woman from before.
“You’re genuinely useful, aren’t you? If I’d actually bought you, I could have put you to very good use.”
The face beneath the mask smiled brightly as she approached.
He had never forgotten that face, not in all the years since.
“My name is Ariana Crystal. Eldest daughter of Marquess Crystal. We were briefly introduced at the banquet earlier—I wonder if you remember.”
He had never forgotten the white, graceful hand she extended toward him with such confidence, either.
Ariana had captured him in an instant.
So—without even knowing why—Calypse had opened his mouth.
“Useful.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Just as you said. I really am quite useful.”
It had been a clumsy attempt to express interest—and the way her eyes went round like a startled rabbit’s had been terribly endearing.
Ariana. That was how you were.
Strong. And someone I wanted to protect, at the same time.
Your convictions and your choices were a nuisance sometimes—but I wanted to stand beside you in them all the same.
‘I did a good job with our daughter, didn’t I? She completed her mission so magnificently.’
That was before I knew you were a spy.
‘A mother and daughter who were both spies. What a strange life you’ve given me, Calypse. It was only a mission—there were no ill feelings.’
Before you carved out my heart with words as cold and sharp as a blade.
I loved you very much.
* * *
“My lord?”
“…Yes.”
Knox’s voice pulled him back.
“You look exhausted. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
Calypse set the thoughts aside quickly and gathered himself.
Knox, who had been watching that unreadable, expressionless face with a quiet heaviness, continued.
“Fortunately, it seems Queen Consort Grace is able to lift the dark magic on Lady Aisha.”
“Good.”
According to Knox’s report, a great deal had happened in the time after Calypse went down.
First—bodies had been found at various points throughout the palace grounds. Every one of them turned out to be a spy sent by House Foss to abduct Aisha—and every one of them had been killed by Kyle.
This had been something Calypse prepared in advance.
He had not incinerated the bodies of the spies Kyle killed, but kept them frozen and preserved rather than allowing them to decay.
It may have been slightly macabre—but he wanted certainty.
Exactly as expected, the royal household had discovered the madness-amplification potions he had pre-planted on the bodies, along with the serpent crest—the symbol of House Foss.
That evidence, for the assembled nobles and royalty, became proof that Duke Foss had used the banquet as a pretext to attempt harm against them all.
King Arjen’s reaction to the full account, as relayed by Knox, was reportedly something like:
‘You dare invite yourself to my sacred royal banquet and then try to murder my family?! Duke Foss Kray is hereby sentenced to death on the charges of royal assassination and fraud!’
Of course. King Arjen had always been the sort of man who disliked even having knights from other noble families inside his palace. The idea that nine spies had been planted among his people—that was never going to be forgiven. The charge of royal assassination was the one and only crime that bypassed a trial and went straight to the death sentence. Calypse had banked on exactly that.
The nobles, too, had been incensed at learning they had been placed in danger on account of Duke Foss’s scheming, and the backlash against him was reportedly enormous.
‘It’s done.’
He crossed his arms and stared at the closed door.
Behind that door, Aisha was receiving treatment from Grace.
‘Everything is over.’
It was then.
He had expected to wait for quite some time, but the door opened carefully and Grace appeared.
“Duke Calypse.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Thinking that Aisha’s treatment must be finished, Calypse stepped toward the door.
Grace hesitated, then slowly spoke.
“The dark magic tied to Duke Foss’s commands—that has been lifted. However…”
Her expression was far from settled.
“There is another dark magic that remains.”
“…Excuse me?”
“And an old one at that. It appears to have been placed immediately after birth.”
Calypse’s face went as hard as stone.
Dark magic placed on a newborn child. Just how deeply wicked was Duke Foss—
“It appears to be connected to you.”
“……?”
The words that followed made him frown immediately—
* * *
