…「You fell out of the sky.」
That line kept echoing in my head.
It had hurt.
Not because of the tone.
But because I had no idea why he said it.
Fall?
From the sky?
I’d been running down a slope.
Running, fleeing, being hunted.
And then—
The hunter.
The core.
The shackles.
I remembered up to that point.
After that—nothing.
I touched my wrist.
No marks.
I didn’t remember falling.
Not even a collapse.
So what exactly did he see?
And why was the only thing I clearly felt in my body
the sensation that something had fallen?
I pressed my lips together.
I wasn’t going to ask.
I wanted to leave it alone.
Ignore it.
Pretend it didn’t matter.
—And yet.
Something tugged at my back.
A sensation of power stuck halfway out.
I tried again.
A faint pulse.
A reflex older than writing with a quill.
There it was.
The flow. The path. The intention.
And then—
Nothing.
No reaction.
No air shifting.
The 「expected outcome」 simply… sank.
Like pouring water into sand.
My stomach tightened.
A seal?
Now?
After all this?
Just when I’d finally escaped on my own?
Now the restraints decide to work?
I swallowed hard.
Not to hold back anger—
but to stop a scream.
「That angry, huh?
So you didn’t want to fall here, specifically?」
His voice—lazy, half-mocking—cut in.
He was standing at the doorframe.
I lifted my head.
「Do you always ask questions so foolish?」
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My reply came out cold, crisp, controlled.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t advance.
Didn’t retreat.
Still leaning on the frame, he shrugged.
「No.
Only when someone’s gritting their teeth like they’re about to bite their own shadow,
or twisting their wrist twenty times to check if it’s still attached,
or… getting frustrated because their magic won’t work.」
I froze.
I hadn’t cast anything.
Not visibly. Not verbally.
And yet, from that distance—
he read me perfectly.
Heat rose to my cheeks.
Unbearable.
「…Step back.」
I lifted my chin, shaping it like an order, not an escape.
「And yet, here I am,」 he said.
I had no answer.
Not one word.
And that—
was the one thing I couldn’t forgive.
He straightened silently,
walked out through the doorway,
and closed the door behind him.
The door opened again.
Not abruptly.
Not overly cautious.
A movement from someone who understands how to treat a room.
The first to enter was the older man.
I recognized him—
a face I’d barely glimpsed before losing consciousness.
White hair.
Back straight.
Hands steady without effort.
He stopped when he saw me awake.
Instinctively, I met his eyes.
And in that instant—
I understood.
No words needed.
He lowered his head.
Not deeply.
Not lightly.
It wasn’t servitude.
It wasn’t obligation.
It was the minimal, exact form of respect
of someone who knows loyalty by weight, not gesture.
It was the first proper bow I’d received
since leaving the castle.
I said nothing.
But I didn’t look away.
He stood in the corner of the room,
as if he’d always been part of it.
Then, from behind the doorframe,
the young man—Ren—peeked in.
Hesitant, but undeniably there.
I glanced at him for just a moment,
then returned my focus to the older man.
「I’m glad to see you awake,」 he said.
That was all.
No probing.
No unnecessary questions.
The voice of someone who knows restraint is respect.
「The herbalists will arrive shortly.
We’ve arranged for proper treatment so no aftereffects remain.」
Formal, but not submissive.
Calm. Precise.
He looked toward Ren.
「Prepare something warm.
When they’re done, we’ll eat together.」
「Now?」
Ren frowned slightly, half-protesting.
「Now,」 the man repeated.
Ren sighed and left the room.
And then—
We were alone.
Me, sitting on a bed that wasn’t mine.
Him, standing as if he couldn’t sit without permission.
Words weren’t needed.
His posture,
his way of holding the silence,
his gaze—
spoke louder than any oath.
I didn’t know how to respond.
The man looked as if he were about to say something—
and at that moment,
the door opened again.
