14 – Summer

It had been an incredibly busy day from the very start.

The first thing the man did upon waking was wash the fresh fruit he had bought the previous night. After rinsing them in cold water until the surfaces were smooth, he began to cook using a few ingredients.

First, he thinly sliced a turkey that had been marinated with various herbs and spices prepared two days prior and only lightly seared on the surface. He stopped cutting before he had even reached ten slices. This was because the person who would eat this dish had a very poor appetite.

Immediately after, the man finely chopped the fruit he had just washed. Fresh fruit paired with vegetables made for a quite splendid dish. When drizzled with a fruit sauce that had been squeezed and aged in advance, it produced a fairly decent flavor.

While grilling the turkey in the pan, the man sliced bread—bought yesterday evening from the most famous bakery on Bellom Street—into bite-sized pieces. Even then, he did not cut more than three chunks.

Thanks to the thin slices, the meat cooked quickly. The aroma was pleasant, and the level of doneness—just before the bloodiness vanished—was considered quite good.

Lately, his success rate had been increasing. As a simple yet appetizing meal was completed, ending with the black tea he had just brewed, a faint smile played across his expressionless face. At that moment, the sound of something breaking echoed from a short distance away.

“…….”

His bustling fingertips stopped. After a moment of silence, the man leaned against the table and turned his head toward the source of the sound. Because of his naturally healthy constitution, he had long since recovered his former strength, but the line falling from his forehead to his cheek and the line connecting his jaw to his ear remained sharp.

Tack, tack!

The sound of stone meeting tool spread throughout the building. Hearing the nostalgic sound, the man’s eyes wavered softly.

He recalled a memory he had let slip away a very long time ago. It was a struggle to chase even a trace of a shadow. Sometimes, there are desires that can never be fulfilled, no matter how desperately one yearns for them.

“I must go.”

Checking the time, the man grabbed his jacket and hat and stood up. Since the distance was far, he had to hurry to return before it was too late.

Today was the day the item he had waited several months for was arriving. After watching the firmly closed studio door for a moment, the man, MacQueen Lester, left the mansion with hurried steps.

✧ ✧ ✧

“This marble is an absolute premium grade. It took a full four months just to bring it in. I am confident you will not regret this.”

“Is it truly premium grade?”

The gaze examining the marble was full of suspicion.

“Of course. It is truly rare to find one with such a fine grain and polished sheen. Once carved, a cloud-like interior will emerge. You will be astonished by that ecstasy. It is the ‘premium of premiums’ among premium grades.”

“You said the exact same thing last time.”

At the blunt response, the material merchant waved his hands with a flustered expression.

“Sir, that is a misunderstanding. The Carrara marble from last time was by no means inferior in quality. That level is distributed as high-grade. Most sculptors would go crazy for it.”

“That was not the reaction at all.”

When the atmosphere failed to shift, the man clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“I do not know which sculptor you are sponsoring, but they must be an incredibly fastidious individual. In terms of being picky, they put Michelangelo—wherever he may be in the heavens—to shame. There is no end to it if one tries to meet every such request. That person needs to learn to compromise a bit.”

“…….”

Despite it being sincere advice in its own way, the regular customer showed no sign of listening. Sensing the mood, Campbell pouted his lips. Looking at the man’s expression, it seemed he might head to the quarry himself right this instant.

Campbell Gwen was a well-known distributor connecting marble origins with retailers. However, for some reason, the man before him was excessively particular about product quality, and even obsessive.

To be precise, the sculptor this gentry sponsored was the one who was like that.

“Still, since you are my biggest client, I say this with good intentions……”

As he broached the subject again, the tall gentry cast a slight sidelong glance.

“Find out if the person you are sponsoring is actually creating a work. Is there a finished piece? If they are someone who uses materials as an excuse to push back the completion date day after day, why not reconsider your sponsorship?”

The man had first sought out Campbell, the most famous distributor in Yorkshire, about two years ago. Since the first transaction, the man had become the most generous client Campbell had ever dealt with. This lavish gentry did not seem to have deep artistic knowledge or interest, yet he always procured the highest quality materials with staggering consistency. He had a keen eye for goods.

For the first few months, Campbell was confused as to whether the man was a nobleman or simply a wealthy gentry, but eventually concluded the latter. It was difficult to imagine a nobleman, who believes himself alone to be noble under the heavens, personally identifying raw material suppliers and distributors and pounding the pavement to secure materials.

Of course, the same could be said for a gentry, but he didn’t feel like a servant such as a secretary or butler, so he was certainly a gentleman. Seeing this level of enthusiasm, this wealthy gentry must have been seriously entangled with some smooth-talking fraud.

“A true genius can turn a rolling piece of stone into a sculpture or a torn cloth into a painting and make it art. The marble you purchased last time was definitely top-grade. To blame the materials after receiving such an outstanding stone… that person’s conscience must be rotten to the core.”

The thick eyebrows twitched. Thinking the man was finally listening, Campbell continued the conversation excitedly.

“To be honest, it is profitable for me if the gentleman is played by that person and buys more expensive materials… but such transactions can only happen once or twice. I am telling you this now because my own conscience is pricking me.”

With that level of wealth, even if he cut off the fastidious sculptor he was currently sponsoring, he would find another artist, and the business with Campbell would not cease.

Adding a spoonful of merchant’s conscience to a thorough calculation, Campbell gave his advice with considerable gravity and sincerity. It was not uncommon for people to lose money sponsoring eccentric artists they knew nothing about.

“It will be beautiful when finished.”

“What will be?”

“Perhaps he will like it this time.”

Campbell tilted his head at the incomprehensible words. The gentry’s eyes as he looked at the marble were blind, carrying a light of fervent worship. The hand tracing the surface was slow and cautious. It was a gaze as if he were in love.

“I will purchase this marble. Is the transport period the same as usual?”

“……Pardon? Yes, yes, it is.”

His attitude and tone completely ignored the advice given moments ago.

‘He must be completely bewitched by that eccentric. He won’t come to his senses until he’s penniless. Foolish gentry.’

As if reading the grumpy thoughts, the man warned him with a rather stern face.

“Ensure you do not say any more useless words.”

“Yes, yes, my apologies.”

Further persuasion was meaningless.

‘He must be someone with so much money he doesn’t know what to do with it.’

Campbell clicked his tongue and pulled out the invoice. Regardless, the highest quality marble that had arrived this time belonged to that gentry.

“He will like it.”

The man muttered words that were unclear whether they were a question or a monologue. Thinking that catering to such a demanding customer was no easy feat, Campbell nodded fervently.

“I am confident. This time, a gasp of awe will surely escape that eccentric sculptor’s mouth. If he shows a grumpy reaction this time as well, I will give you a refund. That is how confident I am in this piece.”

“……That would be a relief, then.”

Only then did the man give a handsome smile at the firm feedback. He had a truly strikingly handsome face.

Because his bright smile looked genuinely happy and joyful, Campbell couldn’t help but click his tongue. He only felt pity for the foolish gentry who, despite having that face and wealth, had been caught by a fraud-like eccentric sculptor.

By the time he stepped out of the carriage, the rain had stopped and the weather had cleared. The sun shone brightly upon the lush greenery through the clear sky. Tree leaves swayed refreshingly with the wind.

It was summer.

“He probably won’t like the hot weather.”

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, MacQuan loosened his jacket and cravat and draped them over his arm. The path to the interior entrance of the mansion was quite long, but he always got off at the outer entrance and walked the long way in. It was a consideration for someone who disliked the entry of outsiders.

Finding a place that could satisfy both the need for recuperation and the desire to work was not an easy task. He had spent the first year busy traveling to various places, and two more years had passed since he returned to England and nested in the Yorkshire region. The memories of how those thousand-plus days had passed were merely blurred.

Just before the path to the outer entrance, a vast barley field stretched out. The land had originally been used for another purpose, but he had planted barley seeds for the first time last spring. Seeing how much they had grown, they would likely ripen yellow and exceed knee-height by autumn.

“Autumn will be here soon.”

His neatly trimmed hair fluttered in the wind. Standing with his back to the wind, the man took in the scenery of the barley field for a moment.

When the seasons change and autumn arrives, it will soon be dyed in golden hues.

That ecstatic and dynamic movement, waving here and there according to the direction of the wind, was one of the sights MacQuan loved most. It was because he always longed for and desired something that resembled it.

Tack— Tang— Tang!

As he drew closer to the interior entrance, the noise grew louder. Since he had left early, at least ten hours had passed. Concern soon clouded his gaze as he looked at the mansion.

“Is it still not finished?”

Tang— Tack—!

“…….”

At the slightly louder sound, MacQueen took another step forward. Thump— another sound rose quietly from somewhere.

Thump—

A bit heavier, and a bit more painful.

Thump—

It was a painful resonance surging from deep within.

MacQueen quietly closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the entrance. The cold energy of the ancient wood rose slowly. A period of time passed during which he could say nothing. At some point, silence had become his closest friend and companion. Only after more time had passed did he pull the knocker.

“…….”

The interior of the mansion, visible as soon as the door opened, was no different from when he had left in the morning. The position of the chairs, the position of the carpet, the tightly closed windows, the curtains.

……Even the food prepared on the dining table.

It was food prepared with great care since morning, but there was no trace of it being touched by human hands. The person he desperately hoped would eat it had clearly not taken a single step out of that door. MacQueen drew his own conclusion. He did not want to imagine the scene of the person opening that door and passing by the food he had prepared, ignoring it.

“You could have eaten even a little.”

Even as he muttered in a discouraged voice, there was no one to listen. As time passed, his heart did not harden. Rather, it crumbled more, lost its shape, and lost its solidity.

MacQueen kept his mouth firmly shut. His masculine jaw and cheeks were tense. He traced the cold, chilled tableware with his fingertips. It was a coldness that resembled someone who would never open the door and come out, who would never even meet his eyes, who would never speak a word—someone who had perfectly ignored him from the beginning until now.

“I found a good piece of marble.”

A gloomy voice whispered low. The sound of work was transmitted clearly from beyond the door.

The soundproofing was terrible.

He had wanted to move to a place with a better surrounding environment, but persuading the other person was impossible. Since leaving London together, his lover was someone who refused any conversation with him. Furthermore, his lover quite liked this mansion, which was like an old, withered tree.

“It will be a bit better than the marble I brought last time. The merchant recommended it with confidence. It didn’t look bad to me either.”

His eyelids, lost in thought, slowly descended. Thump. Thump. It was the sound of a chisel refining stone. No. That sound was the sound of his own heart, cracked and collapsing.

“They said it would take about fifteen days for transport.”

Even as time passed, the person beyond the gap of the door gave no answer. He was a truly heartless person. MacQueen closed his eyes and carefully kissed the cold door, devoid of warmth.

“I hope you like it.”

The door was not locked.

No latch or lock existed, yet MacQueen must not open that door. He must not enter that space. The distance permitted by his lover was only up to where he stood now.

“You will collapse if you don’t eat all day. Do you know that?”

His large frame slowly sank to the floor. He was quite fatigued from leaving early in the morning and spending the entire day wandering the city to find good marble.

“……I am sorry. I am a bit tired.”

As he remained silent, drowsiness soon washed over him. Even though he took up quite a bit of space, there was no one to criticize him.

It was a space where only the two of them existed.

✧ ✧ ✧

When he opened his eyes again, the surroundings had already grown dark. MacQueen stood up from the floor, rubbing his shivering body. A half-waning moon cast a long shadow at his feet.

“The time is……”

MacQueen checked the wall clock. Beside it, the firmly closed door still ignored the intruder. He didn’t know if it had been opened while he slept, but for now, it was a firm rejection.

“I must have fallen asleep as I was.”

He breathed deeply. The fear of death leaked into his breath. Only after repeating the act of exhaling and inhaling a couple more times did MacQueen grasp the doorknob. It was the only time of the day permitted to him.

Creeeeeak.

The door opened with a small noise.

Moonlight illuminated the wide but shabby space. The floor, constructed of old wood, was filled with stone dust and had long since lost its original color. A chill that ignored the sense of season contributed to making the space feel surreal. This lack of reality was one of the sensations he feared most.

Long ago.

MacQueen Lester had experienced losing his reason several times over a long period due to opium. He could not distinguish between reality and illusion, nor between the actual and the ideal. He evaded responsibility and fled from duty.

He did not know the time or place.

Whether it was spring, summer, or any of the four seasons; whether it was land or sea—nothing came to mind. It was a memory that was his, yet not his. Whether the sensation touching his fingertips, the voice heard in his ears, the felt breath, or the heartbeat were real or false.

The doubt was endless, and once such doubt began, MacQueen’s heart would rapidly plunge into hell. Perhaps even this was a side effect of the poppies that had once completely ruined him.

The sound of his footsteps was extremely cautious. His steps stopped completely only when he reached his destination. His lover, asleep in a narrow bed, came into view.

“…….”

MacQueen swallowed his breath quietly, very quietly. The moonlight reflecting on the sleeping person’s face was terribly cold. The fear that had followed him for a long time climbed back up his feet, his knees, and his arms. His stiff body moved slightly. His bent knee touched the ground first. The chilly air touched him. He felt the cold.

“Aaron.”

A deeply sunken voice called its owner. The firmly closed eyes did not open. Only then did the eyes, stiff with tension, soften. He did not wake. No matter what he said, no matter what he did.

“Aaron.”

He called his lover once more. Moonlight descended softly over the gaunt, sharp cheek. The sight of him with closed eyes was like a portrait. Ambivalent emotions—wanting to see him and not wanting to see him—boiled over.

His throat burned hot.

It felt as if he had swallowed a ball of fire. The voice that escaped his lips was somehow awkward and hideous.

“Aaron.”

I hate you with your eyes closed. I remember the fear that you might not open your eyes.

But I am afraid of you with your eyes open. I cannot approach you when you are not closing your eyes. I am afraid of your pupils looking directly at me.

MacQueen carefully observed his lover while leaning his cheek against the old sheet.

“Are you asleep?”

The hand covered in stone dust was exactly the same as at some point in his fragmented memories. It was a rough, scarred hand. Blood had pooled, and the fingertips were hardened or cracked, looking painful just to behold.

With a trembling hand, MacQueen brushed back the blonde hair scattered across the white forehead. Whether time had bypassed only his lover, he remained exactly as he was in the past even after several years.

“Can you hear my voice?”

There were certainly things that had changed. The hand that once created something from nothing could no longer move as freely as before, and work requiring precision was impossible. To be able to move his completely stiffened hand even to the current level, his lover had to endure a painful amount of time.

Whenever uncontrollable tremors or pain struck, his lover would vent his frustration by destroying the sculptures he had painstakingly carved. Despite this, he never gave up on sculpting. His lover hoped to breathe the breath of creation endlessly with hands that bore nothing but scars. The work continued without end, even as countless blocks of marble were discarded.

It was a truly blind act. Watching his lover, who seemed almost desperate, MacQueen would often fall into a state of exhaustion, oscillating between heaven and hell several times a day.

“Aaron.”

MacQueen slowly bowed his head and carefully kissed the cracked, scarred fingertips. For a fleeting moment, the closed eyes trembled.

“I love you.”

A stifled voice leaked through frozen lips. The recipient of the confession gave no reaction. He didn’t mind.

“I love you.”

The eyes gazing at his lover, fallen into a deep sleep, grew moist and heavy. A face sleeping with a peaceful expression; the bridge of a sharp nose moved faintly with every breath. It was proof that no pain could consume him. Yes, his one and only lover and master was alive.

“I love you.”

Only then, with a look of relief, MacQueen gently pressed his cheek against Aaron’s scarred hand or gave a short kiss. He also carefully traced the long line of the arm.

Passing over the smooth skin and moving further up, he reached the scar created long ago when he had pointed a pistol at his lover with his own hand. It was a mark that had become his own punishment. The lips hovering around it trembled with self-reproach.

He kissed his way back down, down, until he reached his lover’s hand again. The stiff fingers did not move despite the desperate kisses. Since that was enough for him, MacQueen smiled bitterly and buried his head.

“I truly love you.”

The only time permitted to him was the deep of the night.

The nights when his lover, having neither eaten nor slept for days, collapsed from exhaustion and fell asleep—it was only a fleeting moment.

For that amount of time, he could look at his lover to his heart’s content,

He could touch his lover’s skin as much as he wanted,

And he could whisper his love as much as he pleased.

He could say that he loved him.

✧ ✧ ✧

Daily life in Yorkshire remained the same, without a single change. Just before morning, MacQueen always woke up at the same time and prepared food. It was like a daily routine preserved in a document. His clumsy skills improved bit by bit as the days passed, and recently, they had reached a reasonably edible level.

Every morning, MacQueen personally prepared breakfast, lunch, and dinner, setting them on a small table for one before leaving the mansion.

The reasons for his outings were always similar. Some were to handle business related to the auction house he had started two years ago, and others were to buy groceries or materials for another work his master might create.

MacQueen usually left before dawn and returned by mealtime to prepare food for his lover. Of course, the food almost always went straight into the trash in its original state, but he didn’t mind in the least.

It was a ghost-like existence. No one in the world had forced this life upon him; it was a decision he made himself and a punishment he imposed on himself. Believing it to be a fitting penalty, MacQueen had endured these three-plus years of silence and neglect without a single complaint.

He brainwashed himself into believing he was fine, but his subconscious did not. His heart crumbled endlessly as he watched his lover ignore him without limit. He would hope for a slight gesture, only to be immediately followed by anxiety and depression. It was a void so profound he felt as if he might crumble and blow away.

Regardless of his efforts to remain unseen, his relationship with the living, breathing lover was one of total disconnection. He knew well that this precarious relationship was maintained solely by the stubbornness and greed of a destitute and wretched man named MacQueen Lester.

He tried, and tried, and tried. However, it took only a meager amount of anxiety and fear to collapse the effort MacQueen Lester had precariously maintained for the past few years.

Screeech—

The door, which allowed no intruders, opened, revealing the silhouette of a man. White stone powder was smeared all over his body. His pale blonde hair, which held the hue of the sun, was also a mess.

Brushing off the stone powder with an indifferent hand, Aaron headed toward the kitchen. The way he yawned softly every now and then showed clear signs of fatigue.

“…….”

His slow pace came to a halt. His eyes narrowed upon discovering the food and the note set on the table. The small piece of paper was filled with long, detailed writing. Unlike in the past, not even a hollow laugh passed over his cold face. The silence sank even deeper.

“Useless.”

Tsking softly, Aaron ignored the food someone had prepared and passed by the table, as he always did. Since groceries were steadily supplied through Calvin, the man’s actions, which had persisted for years, were nothing more than meaningless stubbornness.

Perching on the edge of the table, Aaron picked up a letter that had arrived a few days ago and remained half-read. Because he had only cut the envelope and left it for days, the surface of the stationery was also covered in powder. The sender was Calvin.

I am worried about your health, Brother. How is life in Yorkshire? I would appreciate it if you could tell me if there is anything uncomfortable about your stay. It is simply that you never say such things, which leaves me anxious.

I am still striving to become accustomed to life in London and Westminster. Your absence feels greater as time passes. I am merely conveying my honest feelings, even though I know such words may be a burden.

There was a brief friction with Buckingham regarding the final approval for the withdrawal of the Rodinton cotton business, but in the end, we achieved what we demanded. Sir Gordon Bailen provided a great deal of help during that process.

I have been meeting Sir Bailen privately quite often lately, and your name almost always comes up. There are still many people who miss and wait for the impressive activities you showed while you were in Westminster. I am the same.

The endlessly long letter was a repetition of similar content. In the end, Aaron failed to read it to the end this time as well. He roughly stuffed the half-read letter back into the envelope and stretched. His body was stiff because he hadn’t slept properly for several days. Taking an apple from a separate basket and biting into it, Aaron shoved the envelope haphazardly into his clothes.

“…….”

The peaceful atmosphere did not last long. It was because of the pain that immediately followed. Feeling his arms and legs grow stiff, Aaron frowned and threw away the half-eaten fruit. His useless body reacted immediately whenever he overexerted himself even slightly.

“Ugh…”

Massaging his immobile arm, he finally let out a groan. The sensation of not being able to control his own body was accompanied by immense unpleasantness.

In a tightly curled position, Aaron rubbed his forehead against his knee. The pain in his hand persisted, and the headache was not relieved in the slightest. Huu. A low groan escaped as beads of sweat rolled down. He leaned against the wall for a long time, managing the pain. His closed eyes trembled precariously.

He wanted to fall asleep in a place where no one would disturb him.

In a quiet countryside where the only sounds were the wind and the swaying grass.

He wanted to be free now from the numerous pains of reality.

As the imagination continued, the fatigue became even more extreme. Perhaps he had already reached his limit.

About the past.

About the future.

About memories.

“…….”

Suddenly, a terrible sense of helplessness flooded Aaron. He truly wanted to end the tedious physical pain now. Aaron glanced at the table and slowly closed his eyes. A sigh escaped naturally. After a long while, Aaron left the mansion without lingering.

Unlike usual, his steps from the carriage to the mansion were hurried. He walked quickly at first, and by the halfway point, he was running. Because the conversation with an industry contact had lasted longer than expected, his return had been delayed. He should have been more careful; it was his own mistake. The thought that it would be difficult to make lunch even if he started preparing now further fueled MacQueen’s urgency.

‘He won’t even touch it, but…’

Even while running to the point of gasping for breath, MacQueen smiled bitterly. It was a meaningless act. No matter what he made, his lover would not eat the food he prepared. He would treat it as invisible air.

Despite knowing this, MacQueen did not give up. If he didn’t do even this, he would have no justification at all to approach his lover.

‘How ridiculous.’

The actions he had achieved with his own hands in the past, which he once considered accomplishments, had returned as inevitable sins. The hands that had once helped strangle his lover, cut off his breath, and pull him down into the sea were now cooking food to feed him and attending to him. It was ridiculous.

“Please eat just a bit more. How can you do that grueling work eating so little? Just a bit more fruit, just one more piece. Please?”

“It’s a nuisance. Why on earth are you doing this?”

“Just one piece, just one more piece. You’ll be nothing but skin and bones at this rate.”

“Don’t exaggerate. You always have a tendency to exaggerate and inflate things.”

“Yes, that’s right. I’m the bad guy. I’m a killer and a piece of trash. Yes, yes. Fine. Just one more. Just one more piece, please.”

“I told you I don’t want to eat.”

“You hardly ate yesterday either. I couldn’t sleep a wink because I was so worried. Isn’t this a plea rather than a request? If I were the master, I’d eat it just out of pity.”

“…Stop there and just leave it on the plate. Don’t try to force me to eat anymore. It’s unpleasant.”

It was a memory of the cottage.

What was your expression when you answered brusquely?

Whenever he recalled those faded memories, his emotional hunger grew more severe. In those days, even while acting out and showing irritation, his lover would mostly allow the loyal dog to attend to him as a final option. Despite hating it, he ate the food MacQueen made. Without hesitation, without suspicion.

“I knew well that you had people following me and digging into my business, but I never imagined you would mix so many drugs into the tea leaves.”

Whenever he recalled the happy times, cruel memories invariably followed. The image of him receiving a gift without any suspicion crossed with the contemptuous gaze he cast during their final meeting. Memory was another side of pain.

Within MacQueen’s heart, Aaron Wizfeldon was sometimes a master and sometimes a lover. Memories and emotions were so intertwined between the time spent in the cottage in Ramdiff Forest and the time of deception in London that he could not clearly distinguish what his true self was.

However, one thing was certain.

Now. I am living here with you.

It had already been three years since he had a conversation that could be called a conversation with his lover, but it didn’t matter. MacQueen was satisfied simply by the fact that they could be together.

Clunk.

As hurried as his steps, the action of opening the door was loud and boisterous.

“…Hmm.”

The moment he opened the door, his movement of rushing in stopped due to the bleak air he encountered. Unlike usual, there was an exceptionally cluttered feeling. A faint anxiety sprouted. MacQueen tilted his head for a moment, then returned to his usual expressionless face and entered the kitchen.

“What should I make…”

Muttering the now-familiar monologue, MacQueen opened the cupboard where the ingredients were kept. His gaze as he inspected the materials was meticulous. No matter what he made, it was destined to become trash by the next day, but he had no intention of stopping this inconclusive act.

“Should I make stew?”

His hand was decisive in picking out a large piece of beef. It was top-grade meat obtained from a newly opened butcher shop. This amount was enough to make plenty of stew and still have some left. Even if it took some time, he wanted to prepare a good meal for that person.

“…….”

The gaze that was slowly inspecting the ingredients stopped abruptly. His busy hands stopped at the same time. Like midwinter ice, he remained in a kneeling position for a while, only letting out deep breaths.

Something was wrong.

It didn’t take long for MacQueen Lester to realize the cause of the dissonance. Slowly, taking a long time, he stood up. He exhaled calmly. His heart beat violently with anxiety.

A short distance away, the door to the studio, which defined the relationship between him and his lover, was closed.

It wasn’t unusual.

That door was always firmly closed. The master absolutely did not allow the intrusion of the one who lingered around.

“…….”

MacQueen, who had been motionless, slowly moved forward. He quietly approached the studio door. As the distance closed, the anxiety and dissonance doubled.

That was it.

He couldn’t hear any sound.

It was a sound that had never ceased while he was awake, at least from morning until afternoon. Breaking stone, refining it. When things didn’t go as planned, he would throw things around or kick them in a fit of rage—it was the only sound that signaled someone was inside, the only sound that told him his lover was alive. For the past three years, there had never been a time at this hour when the noise of stone carving was not heard. Not once.

“Aaron.”

A hesitant hand reached for the doorknob. It was an act he would never dare attempt during the day, when his sins were laid bare.

“May I come in? I would like to ask for your permission.”

In the anxious silence, MacQueen bit his lip hard.

“Aaron?”

The cold sensation of the knob froze the skin of his palm and the veins beneath. There was no sound. No sign of presence was felt. That person was not in this space. The eyes looking down at his hand gripping the knob shook with terror. Even as he tried not to think too deeply, his expression gradually stiffened and his complexion turned pale.

Did he die?

Or did he leave?

He swallowed a deep breath. His cheeks trembled as he suppressed the rising emotions. His chest heaved up and down with his racing heart. Unable to even turn the knob, MacQueen collapsed right there, still holding onto it.

“If you just make a sound, I won’t enter. So please…”

Since he had blindly followed his lover here, the time spent living with him had always been like a terminal illness, never knowing when it would end. He was not pushed away, but he was not accepted either.

“I’m sorry. I’m coming in.”

Exhausted by the endless neglect, there were times he wished the other would rather get angry, resent him, and curse him. But now, he didn’t even wish for that. He knew it was a luxury.

He had comforted himself thousands of times, telling himself to be satisfied with the reality of being by his side. That was how he endured three years. The time spent chasing only your shadow, the time spent making cowardly confessions and despairing while watching you slowly die, melting into the darkness.

Screeech—

As the knob turned, unable to withstand the weight, the door finally opened. Immediately, a scene both unfamiliar and familiar unfolded. His steps, taken one by one, were extremely slow and cautious.

MacQueen’s eyes, scanning the studio, shone with awe. Exquisite sculptures that were hard to believe were carved by hands that didn’t move properly, lumps of failed carvings, a small bed, a chair, and a small external exit door in one corner.

It was his first time seeing the studio during the day. Whenever the day’s work was finished, his lover would cover the statues with a huge cloth and seal them tightly. It was a cold determination to share no time whatsoever.

“…….”

His sunken cheeks twitched, unable to overcome his emotions. The space during the day was so different from the space of the night, where he had entered secretly like a thief. MacQueen finally realized why the sun had not permitted him. The space his lover loved was old but radiant, shabby but wondrous. All the art that makes you, you, is wondrous—excluding me.

That fact made me miserable.

“Aaron.”

A voice, trembling to a pitiful degree, called out to his lover. Because the space was excessively wide, he had the illusion that his voice was echoing.

He wasn’t dead.

Despite his fear, MacQueen was relieved that he didn’t see his lover collapsed anywhere. He is alive. The mantra flowed endlessly. Whenever he secretly entered at night to feel the breath and confirm he was alive, he always thanked God.

“Aaron.”

Looking around, MacQueen took another step. Rough breathing continued through the gaps of his parted lips. Most of the marble was stuff he had procured. Though he had never given any evaluation of whether it was good or bad, Aaron always checked the condition of the marble he had purchased and carved his remaining passion into the final selected piece of stone.

It was a single point of lingering affection, even while rejecting all communication. The master’s character, unable to be cruel to the end, remained the same as it was in the past.

You were always like that to me. That’s why I did it. Even knowing you wanted to leave everything behind, I clung to you until the end like an insect.

I was your shackle.

I was your prison.

“Where are you?”

The curtains fluttered in a breeze blowing from somewhere. MacQueen walked toward the window, guided by instinct. When he suffered from delusions while fallen into opium, the phantom of his lover usually appeared in dark, secluded places. Aaron. Aaron. The voice calling the master became more desperate.

“Aaron, are you working?”

He looked behind the curtains and searched behind the bookshelves, but there was no sign of them. Not under the table, nor lying on the chaise longue. He knew. This terror was an illusion. This anxiety was a phantom.

“Aaron.”

The only furniture in the dilapidated studio consisted of a small bed, a table, and a few worn-out chairs; there was no way the luxury furniture found in a London townhouse could be real here. Despite knowing this, the chaos in his mind only deepened.

“Aaron!”

A more desperate cry burst from his lips. MacQuan frantically searched every corner of the spacious workshop. No matter how hard he searched or how longingly he called, there was no trace of his lover.

They weren’t here to begin with.

Having reached this conclusion, MacQuan didn’t hesitate any longer and bolted out of the studio.

There was no need to look around other parts of the mansion. The only space Aaron Wizfeldon occupied was that old studio. If they weren’t there, there was only one conclusion.

His master had left this place. Leaving behind a filthy, wretched dog.

The mansion, inhabited by only two people and devoid of servants, instantly became a deserted house.

“Aaron!”

Thud—

Calling out so desperately that his throat felt like it was tearing, MacQuan rushed out of the mansion.

“Aaron! Aaron!”

Even while running, MacQuan did not stop calling for his lover. The fear, growing exponentially, was on the verge of overflowing and consuming him. Aaron, Aaron. His hands trembled with anxiety. His heart felt so painful that it wouldn’t have been strange if it stopped beating right then.

“Aaron!”

He ran. The wind, which he had thought was refreshing before entering the mansion, had now become savage thorns digging into his entire body. Blood and fluid seeped from every place he was cut.

“Aaron!”

His hollow cries scattered into the air. The shrubs and thickets watched him heartlessly.

“Not like this.”

The madness he had barely suppressed surged again.

“Not this way. I, I…”

Incoherent monologues poured out. Amidst them, a voice—neither clearly male nor female—giggled, demanding that he die immediately. It was an auditory hallucination from a nightmare. He knew. He knew. It wasn’t reality…

“Aaron! Aaron!”

MacQuan covered both ears and scoured the garden with long strides. Just a short distance away lay a deep forest. Perhaps they had left for there. Though his master had never once stepped outside the mansion, perhaps they had stepped away to surprise him, to play a cruel prank.

“Aaron!”

Even as his face and hands became a mess, pierced by rough branches and thorns, MacQuan did not stop hacking through the brush.

“Please…”

Please…

Please, Aaron.

MacQuan knew. He knew that the precarious consideration and tacit peace he had enjoyed for the past three years would not last long. That the happiness granted to him had never been his to begin with. That when he dared to harbor more blatant greed, God had snatched away even the last shred of mercy.

Even those moments of agony, sorrow, and resentment—in truth, he should have lived in gratitude just for being with his lover in whatever form.

It didn’t take long for MacQueen Lester to realize that he was the only one left in this lonely space.

The worthless time flowed quickly. As late afternoon arrived, the blazing sun vanished. Raindrops began to fall one by one, soon pouring down fiercely enough to soak the entire world.

It was weather in which it was nearly impossible to find a person. His vision, stained with urgency, made a proper search impossible. By the time he emerged from the forest, MacQuan was a mess, drenched from head to toe.

‘Should I leave?’

His body, completely drained of strength, moved sluggishly. His eyes, looking down at the ground, were empty. His wet, squelching footsteps sounded almost like the cry of a beast.

‘Should I wait?’

Either choice was terrible. For him, and for the other.

Had his existence been too hard to bear?

Or had they grown bored?

Whatever the reason, the master had left in search of freedom. After the death of the monster, the master could go anywhere and do anything. It was only out of a small lingering attachment and pity that they couldn’t abandon the foolish dog.

‘Now, they must have shaken that off and flown away.’

If so, it was right to respect his lover’s choice and freedom.

It was merely a memory. One person unable to escape it, and one person deciding to forget. Though they shared the same memories and emotions, they were now parallel lines that could never meet again.

‘Forever.’

His body staggered several times as he moved forward. His nerves, having repeated crashes and surges in a short time, were in an extremely sensitive state. He needed to close his eyes for a bit. Perhaps after a deep sleep, there would be a way to break through the situation.

Puddles formed every time he climbed the porch steps. It was truly fickle and savage weather, but he felt neither anger nor irritation. Everything felt so surreal that he felt no sensation at all. It was a moment where his soul was obliterated, floundering in despair.

“…….”

His staggering steps, having lost their destination, stopped. It was right after he saw the slightly open front door and the glow of light leaking through. His rain-soaked eyes shook violently.

“……ron.”

It was a voice so sunken it was almost gloomy. MacQuan spoke the name he had called thousands of times since the morning.

“Aaron.”

Though he was desperate, his body, frozen by the cold rain, did not move as he intended. Strength gathered in the fingers hovering around the doorknob. The hesitation lasted only a moment.

“Aaron, Aaron!”

Clatter.

The door opened. MacQuan froze all movement at the sight that immediately unfolded. He saw his master drying their wet hair.

“……Aaron.”

His wretched voice clung to a thin thread just before breaking. Only then did Aaron stop drying their hair and turn their gaze toward the entrance. Bright, sky-blue eyes held the image of the exhausted dog. It was a stillness that allowed for no disorder.

“…….”

The encounter was fleeting. After staring at MacQuan for a moment, the lover soon looked disinterested and began to finish drying their wet hair and body.

“Is it… really you?”

Patter, patter.

The sound of rain hitting the window grew louder. It looked as though it would turn into a downpour all night.

“…….”

“Aaron.”

Unable to even approach, MacQuan called out to his lover desperately. His thoughts were not organized at all, but there was something he had to confirm first.

“……Where have you been?”

Heart-wrenching longing and anxiety immediately followed.

“Where did you go? It’s raining… it’s raining so hard… because you weren’t here……”

No matter how much he asked, they didn’t speak. It was a silence he had experienced many times, but it was exceptionally hard to bear. It was like the lover he had seen when he was going mad. Like that phantom who said nothing, gave no reaction, and couldn’t be touched—who simply existed.

“I didn’t want you to get caught in the rain… I wanted to find you, but I couldn’t……”

The voice, trailing off in gaps, was as precarious as if it would break at any moment.

“This place is too wide… and your health is not good.”

“…….”

“I couldn’t find you.”

A hand, elegant but full of scars, leaned on the table. It was the place where food made by a wretched dog was offered to a heartless person.

“…….”

Clear-colored eyes, tracing the remnants, stared intently at one spot. Unlike the extremely anxious dog, the gaze was merely calm.

The lover no longer smiled at him, played mischievous pranks, or called him affectionately. They simply remained silent and looked away. Ironically, because of that, MacQuan realized his lover actually existed.

It wasn’t a phantom.

The lover hadn’t left.

They had returned.

They had come back. To this place, to where I am……

“I was by the lake.”

The pathologically looping thoughts were shattered by the voice that suddenly broke the silence. His dry tongue froze in his mouth. The low, pleasant resonance was definitely the first voice he had heard since they embarked on their journey together.

“I was swimming.”

“…….”

“Stop acting so pathetic. It’s pitiful.”

MacQuan lifted his head, eyes wide. It wasn’t a phantom. Not an auditory hallucination. Not a fragment, nor another person, but his lover, watching only him, stood before his eyes.

“Go back now.”

The eyes looking at him were detached. There was no hatred or resentment. It was a calm notification, conveying a fact that was utterly natural. That fact was more miserable, but ridiculously, he felt that even this was enough.

“It’s been three years.”

A desolate, dry voice whispered. A powerless laugh followed. MacQuan didn’t know what kind of expression he was making.

“Three years. The time it took to hear your voice again.”

“……Three years?”

Aaron listened in silence and tilted their head to the side. It was a perfect expressionless face, but there was an illusion that they were smiling. The exceptionally bright eyes were enough to capture his gaze.

“What meaning does that have?”

“…….”

“Something like that has no meaning.”

The tone contained no reproach. At the look and voice of genuine curiosity, his heart plummeted to the bottom again. Self-loathing boiled within his heart, which had become a pit of fire. MacQuan quickly averted his gaze. Knowing his appearance was pathetic, his feet remained glued to the floor, unable to move.

“I am curious as well.”

A massive emotion that he couldn’t manage swept away all of MacQuan’s reason. Memories to which he alone assigned meaning were shabby and powerless. After spending a short time of truth and a much longer time of deception together, they could no longer share any emotions.

“But…… even knowing it has no meaning, I cannot believe that I am talking to you right now.”

It was the first conversation he had with his lover after a long time. Even if the content was like a sharply honed blade, he was happy. MacQuan pulled the corners of his mouth up as far as they could go and smiled brightly. Desperately, hoping his flamboyant appearance would draw even a tiny bit of favor or pity from the other.

“Do you know?”

“…….”

“I sincerely feel that this is enough.”

Tears he had held back for so long finally flowed down his cheeks. Watching this, Aaron frowned and turned their head away. With an irritated sigh, they wiped their eyes. The line drawn by the hand, which had fine, scar-like marks here and there, was elegant.

“I don’t know what you want. Do you want to play master and servant here?”

The slightly furrowed brow trembled. A distant sigh escaped. MacQuan didn’t even think to wipe the tears flowing enough to soak his cheeks; he only captured the image of his master talking to him in his eyes, his mind, and his heart.

“Aaron……”

It was a voice etched with distance. Aaron slowly lowered their hand.

“Whether you want to act as a servant again.”

“Aaron.”

“Or if you want to go back to the forest and……”

“…….”

“Play that unfunny prank one more time.”

Despite the other’s sorrowful expression, Aaron continued to chuckle and leaned one hand on the table. The smile etched at the corners of their lips was closer to self-mockery born of extreme fatigue than ridicule or contempt toward the other.

“A conversation after three years?”

Aaron asked back in a low voice.

“I believe I have been patient enough for three years.”

“Aaron, I……”

“I spent my time, not knowing how much I have left, being patient with useless things.”

“…….”

“Is that not enough?”

The lingering silence implied many meanings. Rejection, refusal, falsehood, avoidance, distrust. MacQuan gasped at the heavy pain settling over his entire body. His fingertips tingled. The lover’s fingers, which had been groping the table for a while, suddenly stopped moving.

“Go back.”

“Aaron.”

“Go back. To where you belong.”

“……Where I belong is here.”

“Then must I leave again?”

“……Aaron.”

“MacQueen Lester.”

The step he had taken with courage stopped. At the name that came from his lover’s lips, MacQuan looked straight ahead with a hollow gaze. Glassy, polished eyes reflected a cowardly man.

MacQueen Lester.

It was a name that aggregated all the sins and evils he had achieved.

“……Why do you call me that?”

At the question filled with fear, Aaron’s lips formed a faint arc.

“Because that is your name.”

It was a solid wall and a rejection. The heartless lover knew exactly how to draw a perfect line.

“No. I am……”

Baronet Enfield, MacQueen Lester of Galloway. It was certainly one of the many names that made him. Also, it was a name his lover had never once called him. Far from being happy, the emotion that returned was a profound despair.

The lover knew his many names. From the name of an English opium merchant to the name of the forest dog given by the master, and an even older name from before he was broken. Therefore, there was no way they didn’t know the reason for bringing up the most heinous name among them—MacQueen Lester.

“Aaron……”

MacQuan grimaced in pain and reached out. He chose his words carefully, trying to persuade the other even a little more.

“I hoped that someday you would call my name, but……”

“Stop it.”

The master’s patience was not long. They were not so foolish as to be fooled by the dog’s rhetoric again.

“Don’t come closer; listen from there.”

Avoiding the one trying to approach, Aaron took a step back. With a thoughtful expression, they cast their gaze out the window.

Aaron couldn’t take their eyes off the vast barley field stretching outside the window for a while. The soft stems and leaves swayed endlessly with the wind and rain.

“My dog is dead.”

The calm voice delivered a death sentence. The distant gaze was close to emptiness.

“He died a long time ago.”

“……Aaron.”

The lonely eyes softened. It was a peaceful face that neither glared sharply nor wore a cold sneer.

“I realized that too late.”

The master looked very exhausted.

“……No.”

MacQuan squeezed out a voice that wouldn’t come, insisting stubbornly. The anxiety grew even larger. He had to say that it wasn’t so, that it wasn’t too late yet. That your dog is still alive here.

“…….”

Watching him wander, not knowing what to do, Aaron smiled faintly.

I don’t know if you remember, they whispered, their face devoid of any joy, sorrow, or anger.

“The forest also burned and became ash.”

The barely maintained breath stopped. The forest. Even without a precise name, there was no way he didn’t know where that was. MacQuan traced back through his patched-up memories and past. All the memories of those days living together in a cabin, like a child’s play, somewhere in that deep and vast forest.

“The cabin also collapsed and burned, leaving no trace.”

“…….”

“There is nothing left in that forest now.”

Aaron shrugged as if it were nothing and raised their right hand. Turning the back and palm of the hand over and over, they pouted their lips.

“My hand is ruined……”

The hand, full of new wounds from sculpting for several days, was revealed under the sun. The straight, extended hand was beautiful in itself, but on the other hand, it was full of large and small scars. Another gaze became entangled in the hand. Pain colored the eyes scanning the wounds.

“Work that would have taken a day in the past now takes ten days, over a month.”

One proper line only emerges after failing ten, twenty times. The broken marble was like a past life. Once fragmented and broken, it can never be glued back together. It cannot return to its original state. One simply leaves the broken and shattered parts and carves the remaining parts anew.

“Even then, I often fail if muscle stiffness occurs in the middle of the work.”

The eyes watching the hand spasm from slight overexertion were calm.

Will I be able to complete even one piece before I die?

What a wicked and malicious greed.

Someone whispered from within a deep sleep.

“It can’t be helped.”

Aaron narrowed their eyes and smiled.

“It is a foolish thing to hold onto a time that has already ended.”

It was the moment the meaning of the lover’s monologue became clear. MacQuan shook his head violently, denying reality.

“……That is not so.”

A lonely laugh drifted in. A hollow gaze lingered for a moment on the face of the man persisting in useless stubbornness.

“To me, you will forever be MacQueen Lester, Baronet Enfield.”

“…….”

“And to you, I must be Aaron Wizfeldon of Cornwall.”

“That is not so……”

It was a miserable denial. The voice that barely emerged had no strength. Aaron chuckled with their head tilted. They could not understand MacQuan’s attempt to reject a decided answer and solve the problem anew. It was a wasteful act.

“I don’t know if you remember me once saying that the past is not important to me.”

Eyes that had wandered through a maze finally meet. Aaron turned his gaze back to meet the dog’s. It was a desperate look. It was also a look that had deceived him several times already. As he reached the buried depths of his past, a powerless laugh escaped him.

Aaron found it amusing, all of a sudden, that his instinctive attempt to discern some emotion from the other’s gaze was so futile.

Who was the one who had been unable to leave that silent, vast forest for so long? Who was the one trapped in a time and space that had already died, unable to escape? Recalling the question that had been drifting through his head and heart for some time, Aaron slowly continued speaking.

“I want to give those words right back to you.”

“…….”

“What has already passed is not the least bit important. It cannot change the present or the future. One might think there is meaning in simply remembering, but I belong to the category of people who do not agree with such an opinion.”

“…….”

The warning he spat out was seamless, to the point that it was hard to believe they hadn’t exchanged a single word of conversation for the past three years.

“I do not wish for this place to be stained by phantoms along with you. Despite how I may seem, I had to expend considerable energy just to settle in Yorkshire.”

Aaron recalled the moment he fell from the Melville. That black, violently surging sea had swept away and swallowed every last remnant of his remaining emotions. No longing was useful, and no desire was necessary. Not hatred, nor resentment, nor anger, nor shame.

…….

……Nor anything else.

“I believe I have extended all the kindness I will ever offer in my lifetime. I do not know what more I can say to you.”

An elegant gesture swept across the table once more. Cold food, perhaps prepared since morning, entered his field of vision. Though he had seen it hundreds, perhaps thousands of times, he had never once eaten or even touched the food the other had made.

“I trust you understand.”

It was a kindness that was, quite literally, unlike him. Aaron gazed at the ceaseless rain beyond the window. It was a night where no one could sleep peacefully.

“I no longer wish to be in the same space as you. I would like you to leave this place as soon as possible.”

“…….”

“The game of master and servant ended long ago.”

Despite the ultimatum, MacQuan did not budge. There was no way to know what expression was hidden beneath his thick hair. Unfortunately, Aaron had no desire to know the original shape of the man’s inner self. If he let his guard down, he didn’t know when a sharp blade might pierce his body again. Or perhaps the man might force his mouth open and pour opium down his throat. Swallowing the curses that threatened to spill out, Aaron turned around and returned to his studio.

Night falls time and again, and morning returns just as often. Life will repeat the cycle of blooming and withering even amidst pain. Just as all of history has.

Just as all love has.

Click.

Sensing the faint sound, MacQuan immediately looked up. Because he had spent the night wide awake, his reaction was extremely slow and dull.

The movement to approach the person emerging from the studio faltered upon seeing his master’s attire.

“…….”

It wasn’t the perfectly tailored clothing according to etiquette as it had been in the past, but it wasn’t the light clothing he wore while working either. Above all, the master was carrying a bag that looked quite heavy. Though his anxious heart screamed, MacQuan stood up with a feigned, calm smile.

It’s alright. I have already worn countless masks and acted. I am accustomed to not revealing my emotions. I am confident that I can hide this black desire and fear. So please.

“……Where are you going?”

“…….”

“Are you going to meet Sir Caliven Wizfeldon? Are you going to London? I will call a carriage to the station. The weather is not good. If you just wait a moment……”

“It is not necessary.”

The voice that cut him off was chilling. After a brief flinch, MacQuan continued as if nothing were wrong.

“I will call the fastest carriage. It is still raining. Please, listen to me. Didn’t you suffer terribly from a cold before? I heard that if you hadn’t been careful, it could have turned into pneumonia.”

“I said it is not necessary.”

“It is difficult to walk to the city center. Your strength has not yet recovered enough to walk long distances. If you do not wish to see me, please wait inside the studio. As soon as the driver arrives……”

“My body will never recover.”

“…….”

“Do you not know that?”

A low laugh pierced the sharp air. Aaron looked quietly at MacQuan, who was stubbornly holding his ground as expected, and spoke again.

“I plan to be away for a few days. When I return, I hope I will no longer see you here.”

“……Is the time spent with me a pain to you?”

The air was heavy enough to crush one’s lungs. The grip on the ink stick trembled. Even while unable to compose his emotions, MacQuan stared only at his lover. It was a tenacious gaze, as if he regretted even the moment he blinked.

“Pain, you say……”

Aaron brushed his hair back with a bored look. It was a lethargic and weary gesture. As time passed, he found it difficult to concentrate on a single task or emotion. He did not know if it was a sequela of his broken body or a psychological issue. Even things that happened just now would fade into weathered memories as time passed.

“If you think you are someone who evokes that much emotion in me, that is truly wretched arrogance.”

“…….”

“Would it be an answer if I said you aren’t even that?”

At the utterly cold response, MacQuan froze completely and fell silent. His distorted green eyes laid bare the wound he had received. His gaze, desperate to the point of being fierce, reached only one person, but his fervor did not even reach the other’s toes.

“I trust you understand.”

To ignore the unpleasant feeling, Aaron walked toward the entrance. However, unlike his previous cold demeanor, his expression crumbled helplessly as he drew closer to the door.

Aaron.

My son.

You are the heir to the great Cornwall and the head of this family who will lead it. Aside from that fact, you have no value, nor any need.

These abominable stones that make you harbor idle thoughts must all be crushed and destroyed.

Broken.

Burned.

Would it not be a simple matter to just kill them?

Whose words were they? Were they the words of that man, or my own? Who to whom?

Contempt flowed between dry lips. The monster was dead, but the snake coiled of hatred still entwined Aaron. Perhaps the monster, buried in the earth and turned to soil, had now become a wraith and remained by his side.

That filthy devil does not disappear even in death.

Clutching his trembling arm, Aaron grit his teeth. A demon is but a demon. A life swayed at will had been enough until now. Aaron wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and opened the door to head outside. It was a step without a single moment of hesitation.

Slam—

“…….”

Only silence lingered in the space where the master of the house had departed. MacQuan stared blankly at the closed door. Despite his desperate wish, his lover did not return that night.

✧ ✧ ✧

During the journey from Yorkshire to London, Aaron struggled due to poor condition. The headaches and sequelae of his injuries that followed him throughout the trip were not the kind of things one could get used to even after several years. After many twists and turns, the first place he visited upon arriving in London was not Pellynton Hall, but a shop run by Mark Twegger in the city center. It was an afternoon where the heat was rampant.

“Oh, you’ve arrived.”

A man who had put on more weight over the last few years approached with quick steps. Mark’s attitude toward his long-time customer was far more cautious and polite compared to the past. A hint of subtle fear was mixed into his glancing gaze. Regardless of that reaction, Aaron indifferently hung his overcoat on a chair in a corner and sat down.

The situation was the same as a few years ago, but there were certainly different parts. A man named Blake no longer existed. He wore no black wig and no glasses. The man was dressed comfortably, but now, no one would see him as a mere ordinary sculptor.

“You’re late.”

“N-no, not at all. Sir, Sir Caliven, Sir Caliven Wizfeldon sent a letter in advance, so I was waiting. I-I have plenty of time to spare……”

“The materials?”

“They arrived three days ago. I’ve put them in the warehouse for now, so you can choose the one you like best. If perhaps you don’t like them……”

At the sight of him hesitating and reading his expression, Aaron glared irritably.

“Enough already.”

“Pardon?”

“If you’re going to walk on eggshells, just don’t say anything at all.”

“That is……”

“Or just serve me some tea. Your customer service is abysmal. That’s why this place hasn’t improved at all, then or now. It’s a miracle you haven’t gone bankrupt.”

“…….”

Listening to the barrage of words, Mark tilted his head with a peculiar expression.

“Your gaze is impudent.”

“No, that wasn’t my intention. It’s just……”

“……?”

“I-I was reminded of the old days.”

Mark, smiling kindly, scratched the back of his head.

He had been a customer for over ten years. The man named Blake, who possessed an unseen talent and an even filthier personality, was someone who always remained in Mark’s mind even if they didn’t meet often.

Before being a merchant, as a sort of colleague, Mark had been curious about the man’s well-being. The shock he felt when he learned that the man was actually the heir to one of England’s most prominent ducal families was immense. No, the emotion he felt then was closer to horror and terror than mere surprise.

‘I really thought I was going to faint back then…’

His thick lips twitched as he traced back the old memory.

The man sitting with a crooked posture before him was no longer just the heir to a Grand Duchy in England, but the Duke of Cornwall, having officially inherited the title. Until he received the letter from Caliven Wizfeldon, this was a situation he had never even imagined in his dreams.

Since then, perhaps knowing that his identity had been revealed, the ill-tempered sculptor no longer wore ridiculous wigs or glasses to hide himself and visited Mark in his true form.

Just like today.

“You’re exactly the same as you were before. O-of course, I don’t mean you’re as com-comfortable as you were then……”

As the gaze instantly sharpened, Mark hurriedly added an explanation. He had always thought the man was pitiful because he always came back beaten up; he never imagined he was someone from a social stratum he wouldn’t even dare look up to. Who was pitying whom?

‘Then who did he get beaten up by back then? Not just a regular noble, but the heir to a ducal house…’

A dangerous curiosity bloomed, but only for a moment. Even if he pondered it, an answer wouldn’t come, and if he dug too deep, his own neck might be in danger. Chewing over the past pity, Mark served tea that had been warmed just right.

“Um… the aroma should be good. I received some high-quality goods as a gift this time.”

“…….”

“If you don’t like it, shall I change it to another tea?”

“No need.”

“Ah, well……”

“I do not drink tea unless I brew it myself.”

“…Ah, yes. I understand. I didn’t put any poison in it, but……”

“Take it away.”

“…….”

When his sincerity was rejected, Mark pouted. He asked for tea and then said he wouldn’t drink it. Is it because he’s a noble? With a face clearly showing his disappointment, he cleared the cups and pot set on the tea table.

‘I just can’t get used to it.’

Even though his head knew the other was a high noble whom he could never treat carelessly, his heart couldn’t follow. To Mark, that handsome young Duke was still largely perceived as a quirky young sculptor with a vicious temper. The reason he felt both uncomfortable and at ease was likely because of that. Of course, he knew his head would be cut off if he ever said that out loud.

“By the way, what should I do with the stored works? Since the money the Duke gave me back then was so much, I’ve been keeping them in a fairly well-equipped facility. After that, Sir Caliven Wizfeldon also provided immense financial support every year… Since management is important for such works, I’ve put a lot of effort into it. Would you like to see them?”

“No need.”

“You’re still the same. In that regard. In my opinion, it’s such a waste… and a shame to let the Du-Du… Duke’s works rot in a sealed space. I guarantee that the moment they are released to the world, all sorts of wealthy people will welcome them with bundles of cash in both hands.”

“I have no need for such things.”

“Still……”

“I already have enough money.”

With a face devoid of any lingering attachment, Aaron stood up. He was quite tall and had a very lean, streamlined body. Although his sickly skin was a flaw, his appearance otherwise was that of a perfect noble, as if he had just stepped out of a portrait.

‘To think he covered all that with that clumsy disguise…’

Mark rubbed his chin, recalling the time when the man was called Blake.

“It’s a shame. Whether they are shown to many people, or someone collects them, or they are sold… it would be nice if others besides me and the Du-Du… Duke could see those works.”

“You’re talking nonsense.”

Aaron lightly cut off Mark’s lingering words and brought up his business.

“How many feet are the materials this time?”

“10-foot and 12-foot pieces have come in. They are top quality.”

“It would be better if they were a bit larger.”

“Marble over 12 feet is difficult to transport, so it’s not preferred for on-site work. Of course, if the price is right, I can obtain them next time. Do you need to go that large?”

“The loss rate is high during the process.”

“Loss rate? No matter how you calculate the loss rate, the block would still be quite large……”

“That is not for you to worry about, so just find out if it’s possible. I will purchase all the marble that came in this time.”

“Understood. Hmm, then please wait a moment. If things go well, you can check them within this week. Instead, you’ll have to travel directly to the region where the marble is located; will that be alright?”

“It is possible.”

“I will pick a few candidates. It’s been hard to get materials lately. It’s a different region, but someone has appeared who is sweeping up all the high-quality goods from the source. Since I deal with such high prices, I’ve had no competitors until now, but lately, they’ve been searching with eyes wide open. They’re completely insane.”

“They must have found a foolish patron.”

“Seeing how much money they spend, it’s not just a foolish patron; they must have sold their soul. Haha.”

Mark, who was scanning the list to organize the options for the customer, suddenly burst into a chuckle.

“Come to think of it, there is someone who owns one of the Duke’s works.”

“……Someone owns one?”

As the expression turned menacing at a rapid pace, Mark hurriedly waved his hands. When the blue eyes, which he had felt were friendly until a moment ago, were clouded with anger, it was terrifying. As expected, this was someone he should not be entangled with.

“I-it’s not a sculpture. Of course it’s not a sculpture. I haven’t touched a single finger of the works the Duke entrusted to me. I told you clearly back then. That painting. Why, why are you looking at me as if you’re hearing this for the first time… Surely the Du-Duke also said it was fine.”

“……Ah.”

As he explained urgently, Aaron finally remembered something and let out a groan with a blank expression.

“Well, it was quite a long time ago.”

Despite being an old memory, it was not hard to recall. Even after several years, the memory of that day remained exceptionally vivid.

“That painting. The one of the red-haired man. You remember, right?”

“…….”

The sullen expression soon signified affirmation. In the softened atmosphere, Mark gathered courage and babbled.

“Even thinking about it now, he was a truly mad gentleman. Buying such a painting for five thousand pounds—it’s absurd. Five thousand pounds! That’s an amount that could rebuild this entire old shop and still have money left over. Haha.”

Finding it ridiculous even now, Mark continued speaking with a cheerful laugh.

“He pleaded so much to buy it that I simply couldn’t refuse.”

Seeing that the man, who usually only showed cold glares or sneers, seemed to be listening, Mark became even more excited.

“One thousand pounds, two thousand, three thousand, four thousand, and then up to five thousand pounds in an instant—for a moment, I mistook this place for an auction house!”

“……What a pathetic fellow.”

“Haha, I think so too. To be honest, the Du-Duke’s painting had a very slight, very slight lacking part compared to the sculptures… He probably wanted to show off his wealth in front of the lady who came with him.”

Mark recalled the woman who had tried to stop the young gentry’s impulsive decision. He unconsciously clicked his tongue.

“They must have been a couple in love or planning to marry. Otherwise, there’s no way they’d do something so crazy. After all, a young man always wants to show only his most glamorous and impressive side to a woman. Even though if you peel back just one layer, it’s all vanity.”

Light eyebrows arched slightly over the forehead. In the meantime, the man, having completely cleared the glasses, stepped closer.

“A gentry who buys the work of an unknown artist—and an unfinished one at that—for five thousand pounds… one can only describe such a person as being full of vanity.”

“…….”

“It was quite amusing how desperate he seemed, continuously raising the price to buy that unremarkable painting. The Duke should have seen it……”

The chatter stopped abruptly. He had noticed the displeasure rapidly spreading within the young Duke’s gaze.

‘Did I say something wrong?’

Mark, quickly retracing his words, flinched as something occurred to him. He wore a wide smile, but cold sweat was nearly breaking out on the back of his neck. Unknown artist, unremarkable painting……

“O-of course, I didn’t mean that Your Grace’s work is unremarkable…… what I meant was, for now…… that wasn’t my intention……”

“…….”

“Of course… I can personally guarantee that the sculptures Your Grace created could be arranged for sale at five, no, five hundred thousand pounds. Just you wait and see. I only wanted to mention that an unfinished painting sold for such a staggering price, and that Your Grace’s paintings are just as exceptional, so I hope there is no misunderstanding……”

“Did that man buy the painting for five thousand pounds?”

“Pardon? Yes, yes…… I told you then as well……”

“…….”

“I certainly told you……”

“He has no eye for art.”

“……Haha.”

Mark tried to agree but swallowed his words. Sometimes, it was better not to be honest. As he shifted his gaze cautiously, the chilling aura he felt moments ago had vanished. The face lost in thought even looked a bit melancholy. No matter how many times he looked, it was truly a handsome face. In terms of painting, it was a striking appearance that would suit an ancient, romantic style.

Regardless, the young Duke of Cornwall was staring blankly into the distance with a face colder and more expressionless than usual. Perhaps he had been mistaken in thinking the man was angry. Considering him truly unpredictable, Mark led him toward the storage room.

“Your Grace, let us move. You may start by checking the items over ten feet tall.”

“Very well.”

“Haha, I am sure you will be satisfied.”

“…….”

“…….”

It was a truly terrible silence, where the only sounds were breathing and footsteps. As the atmosphere grew heavier, Mark decided to bring up another anecdote about that nameless, pathetic gentry, provided it didn’t offend the man’s mood.

“There was one more ridiculous thing.”

“……?”

“After purchasing that unfinished painting for five thousand pounds, do you know what that gentry bought next?”

“That man again. That’s enough.”

He was immediately displeased.

‘Is this not it? Still, I must flatter him somehow……’

The thought that he might lose his best customer made Mark even more anxious. Despite the discomfort, the Duke of Cornwall’s family was a crucial client, accounting for more than half of the Migellan Trading Company’s annual income.

Of course, putting profits aside, Mark, as an art lover, wanted to continue seeing the magnificent works created by that ill-tempered and arrogant noble for a long time. That was why he added stories that didn’t necessarily need to be told.

“You’ll find this even more amusing. Imagine, after buying the painting, he told me he wanted to buy the tools necessary for sculpting!”

“Tools?”

The steps toward the storage room finally stopped. Seeing Aaron standing still in a place that wasn’t the destination, Mark pointed toward the end of the hallway, noting they weren’t there yet.

“Yes, and then he asked me to bring every type of sculpting tool in my shop and demanded the bill. He seemed completely unaware that there are differences in sculpting methods and tools depending on the material—whether it’s a chisel, a gouge, a hammer, plaster, or marble. The tools he picked were all mixed up in a mess. In the end, I had to pick them for him…… but the funny part was that gentleman’s expression.”

Recalling the memory, Mark once again pictured the face of that nameless gentry. Unlike the first impression, which had seemed cold and overbearing, the final image of the stylish gentry remained strangely in his mind.

“He was clearly buying them of his own will, yet he seemed to have no idea what he was doing. His hands were gathering items as if he intended to loot the shop, but his face was completely distorted, looking as if he were asking himself why on earth he was buying this. I had a hard time suppressing my laughter.”

An awkward laugh echoed through the space. The sound of footsteps resuming was still suffocating. Hoping to lighten the mood, Mark raised his intonation more than usual. He was a customer who made one uncomfortable in many ways.

“He said it was a gift, but I wonder who would like such a gift if they aren’t a sculptor…… he didn’t even look like someone who sponsors artists. It was probably a gift to win the favor of the lady who came with him. Haha.”

Perhaps because it was such a strange transaction, every scene remained vivid despite the time that had passed. The sound of breath, struggling to hold back laughter, grew deeper.

“After spending such a large sum, nearly equivalent to a gentry’s annual salary, he hurried away with the painting and tools like a fugitive. It was as if he feared I might take back the items he had bought.”

“…….”

As the silence continued, the frivolous laughter gradually faded. Mark sniffled for no reason with a lukewarm expression. He felt ridiculous, talking alone to a man who was like a plaster statue, offering no reaction.

“Perhaps once he bought them, he felt they were too precious to give to the lady. He took the painting and the sculpting tools all for himself and rushed out of the shop. He left so quickly I thought he was escaping. I would bet all my emergency funds that the gentleman was notified of a breakup that evening. If Your Grace had seen the expression of the lady left behind after that gentleman departed, you would have thought the same as I did.”

“…….”

“Haha, ha…… is it…… not interesting?”

Though he had babbled to flatter the customer, Mark felt uneasy. It was because he remembered the desperate expression of that gentry at the time. The other person seemed to feel the same, as not even a hint of a smile was felt despite the continuous jokes. Just as he thought he had spoken unnecessarily, Mark realized the presence following him had completely vanished.

“Um…… Your Grace?”

“…….”

Looking at the young Duke’s expression, which had frozen with terrifying rigidity, Mark had to accept that he had either completely lost a customer who had enriched the Migellan Trading Company for a long time, or he was destined to be dragged to the Thames and killed without anyone knowing.

✧ ✧ ✧

By the time he returned to Pellynton Hall after the House of Lords session, it was completely dark. The news that had arrived in the meantime was contained in a single letter written in a fluid hand. There was no need to check the sender. As soon as he read the beginning of the letter, Caliven let out a laugh, feeling the traces of his brother.

“You’re still the same, leaving only the business at hand……”

Longing that he couldn’t help but feel seeped into his eyes as he read the letter. A few years ago, contrary to the words that he would contact him soon, his brother had been heartless, not sending a single simple letter for nearly half a year after leaving London. During that time, Caliven had spent many sleepless nights not even knowing if his brother was dead or alive.

When a letter finally arrived about a year later saying he had to return to England and to look for a place, Caliven had been so happy he forgot his dignity.

After that, Aaron looked for a place where he could balance recuperation and sculpting a couple more times, finally descending to the estate in the Yorkshire region. Where he currently stayed was the oldest and smallest of the several mansions Cornwall owned in Yorkshire, a place they had once considered selling to provide funds for Rodinton. Since it hadn’t been properly maintained, they had struggled quite a bit to renovate it enough for someone to live in.

“Shall I prepare some light food?”

Bernard, who had approached his side unnoticed, asked cautiously. Caliven slowly shook his head.

“It seems my brother has come to London.”

“He did not stop by here.”

“He went straight to the Migellan Trading Company. He purchased a great deal of marble.”

“Since we didn’t know when the Duke would visit, I paid the advance payment generously in advance.”

“I heard there was an additional charge.”

“An additional charge?”

“He says about twenty thousand pounds more is needed.”

“Twenty thousand pounds……”

Bernard stopped breathing for a moment at the unimaginable amount. Seeing the slightly parted mouth and surprised eyes, Caliven suppressed a smile and headed toward the window.

“The amount paid as an advance was already substantial…… will it be alright? I am worried that the owner of that trading company might be deceiving Your Grace.”

“Bernard, do you not know my brother?”

“……Of course, he is not one to be deceived…… but the amount is enormous.”

“That may be so…… but I am satisfied.”

As he pulled back the curtain slightly, a well-maintained garden unfolded. Though not as vast or splendid as a Country House garden, it was enough to enjoy the changes of the seasons.

“My brother is doing something. It is a very encouraging thing.”

He recalled the time that had passed in hell. It was a time when he could make no decisions, only confirming and ruminating on his own helplessness.

“The very desire to start sculpting again is a miracle, is it not?”

“……Yes. It is.”

“I want to help him do whatever he wishes to his heart’s content. To support him without lack, so he has no worries. My brother would think I’m being presumptuous if he knew.”

“…….”

“Because everything I have originally belonged to my brother.”

As he opened the window, a warmer breeze entered. It was sunlight enjoying the summer.

“Still, it would be nice if he returned.”

“I agree.”

Caliven nodded with a faint smile. A hopeful conversation passed for a moment, but both knew those words were merely a wish.

“I cannot force my brother to stay any longer, can I?”

“…….”

“Even if our father returned alive, it would be impossible now.”

The war was over.

Yet, the true war had not ended. Contrary to the hope that more active trade would occur with the opening of five new ports, the situation had not changed much. The diplomacy demanded through unfair treaties was also carried out through the Minister of Foreign Affairs.

The dissatisfaction of the thinkers, who had endured for a long time in expectation that the situation would improve, reached the sky, and that resentment was directed entirely toward the Parliament and the Royal Family.

The Westminster clock turned rapidly. Though no one dared to say it openly, the feeling that another war was necessary was found here and there. The bills regarding overseas deployment that were gradually appearing in the House of Commons sessions from some point on were the evidence.

“Now that the Rodinton matter is finished, he is even less likely to come.”

“……It was a complete bankruptcy.”

Recalling the events of a year ago, Bernard shook his head with a horrified face. It was a terrible thing to think about again.

“I didn’t know he had prepared the work to this extent.”

“His method was indeed cruel.”

It didn’t take long for the cotton company, which had maintained its lineage for decades, to completely close its doors.

From a few years ago until now, the majority shareholder of Rodinton had been Aaron Wizfeldon, and the blade he wielded, holding the majority of the shares, was not merciful. It was a ruthless blade that no executive member of Rodinton could protect against.

The Royal Family, which had stood by and shifted responsibility, flew into a rage at that time and tried to summon the Duke of Cornwall several times, but Aaron did not comply, using his health as an excuse. It was utterly impious, but the clever King could not act more strongly, knowing that the previous king and himself had shifted all responsibility and duty for Rodinton’s management failure to the Wizfeldon family.

After the decision for Rodinton Company’s bankruptcy, over several hundred workers were driven into the streets. It was the result of the collaboration between the young Duke of Cornwall and the most powerful law firm in England. In that process, no interests or agreements existed. The role of soothing the complaints and wounds of the workers was entirely Caliven Wisfieldon’s share to handle.

“I don’t know how time has passed.”

“…….”

“I always respect and follow my brother’s will…… but Rodinton was not easy.”

Caliven had to spend a full year on support and follow-up measures for the workers who lost their jobs overnight. Since some were still ongoing, it could only be said that the aftereffects were immense.

Recalling the memory, Caliven laughed weakly. It would be a lie to say he didn’t resent the overwhelming responsibility even a little. Nevertheless, he was grateful that a blood relative who shared his life still remained in the world. Even he thought his foolishness was severe.

“I am very cautious in saying this, but……”

A gentle voice seasoned by time intervened between his thoughts.

“Perhaps the Duke trusted you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I believe he trusted that no matter what he did, the young master would clean it up.”

“Haha, Bernard. You’ve gone too far.”

Toward the representative of the Duke of Cornwall’s title, who laughed playfully asking what he meant, Bernard smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

“At least the Duke I know trusted the young master. Is he not someone who originally trusts no one? If he didn’t think so, he wouldn’t have entrusted you with anything at all. You may find it presumptuous, but this is my thought.”

“…….”

“He is not one to express himself honestly, is he?”

The murmuring voice contained an affection that could not be hidden. Although he was merely a servant, to Bernard Austin, who had guarded the Wizfeldon family his whole life, Aaron and Caliven Wizfeldon were like sore fingers. The guilt of ignoring the brutal violence perpetrated by the previous Duke of Cornwall under the guise of discipline would haunt him until the moment he died.

“He wasn’t one to express his inner feelings, but the current Duke cherished the young master in his own way. Also, Rodinton had to be sorted out eventually. The state of debt was not at a level the Wizfeldon family could handle, was it?”

“Yes. You are right.”

The harm Rodinton harbored was by no means at a level that could be overlooked. Someone had to pick up the blade, and someone absolutely had to become the villain. The head of the house had simply chosen that role.

“Someone was needed to cut it off. If it had gone on for another year or two in its current state, the young master would have had to bear all the damage.”

“I know that. It’s just that my heart wasn’t at peace.”

“It would have been more painful if the young master had done it himself. Even though the current Duke finished it cruelly, wasn’t it possible because there was trust that he would perfectly clean up the aftermath? Otherwise, it would have been a difficult task even for the current Duke. A villain was needed.”

“…….”

“Please forgive the somewhat presumptuous interference of a man who has guarded this place for a long time and seen both the Duke and the young master.”

“I express my gratitude for your sincere comfort, Bernard.”

A summer breeze blew through the open window. The fickle London weather is unpredictable, never knowing when it will rain or turn cloudy. Only at this moment, London was embraced by bright sunlight.

“I wonder if the day will come when I can enjoy the works my brother created to my heart’s content.”

The eyes looking at the neatly folded letter again were full of longing and affection.

“I am also looking forward to it, young master. Of course, the Duke would be angry if he knew.”

“Haha, I agree. He might shoot you and me with a pistol.”

“I’ll pass on that.”

Amidst the laughter of mutual trust, only the letter on the silver tray eavesdropped on their conversation.

✧ ✧ ✧

Neigh―

A long horse whinny echoed at the whip crack signaling the arrival at the destination. The sky, which had been sunny when arriving at the train station, was now filled with dark clouds and grew dim. Raindrops falling one or two at a time foretold the rain that would fall throughout the night.

The steps treading on the wet ground were heavy. The mind and body, having endured a grueling journey of over fifteen days, were utterly exhausted.

“…….”

Aaron did not enter immediately and surveyed the surroundings of the mansion. It was a procedure to confirm something. His gaze, scanning slowly one by one, soon sank coldly upon discovering a certain trace at the window.

Clearly, there should have been no one, but the faint light emanating from the window and the small noise directly contradicted that thought.

Finally……

His tightly closed lips trembled. An angry aura instantly surged in his intangible gaze. His mind was clouded with rage, and no other thoughts occurred. Whether the hatred rising like a seizure was his primal nature or a side effect of all his misfortunes, there was no way to know. Aaron quickly entered the mansion.

Bang―!

At the sound of the door being opened roughly, the man standing in the hall turned toward the entrance. Their eyes met.

“You have arrived.”

An unmistakable joy manifested clearly across his handsome face. The face meeting his was noticeably more gaunt than it had been fifteen days ago, yet Aaron felt not a shred of pity. Rather, the dark shadows beneath the eyes and the glint of madness in the gaze were grotesque. For a moment, Aaron stopped, forgetting his intent to be angry.

“I was worried, thinking your schedule had been delayed.”

“…….”

“It was raining heavily; you’re soaked. Did you walk all the way from the entrance? Give me your coat. I will—”

The moment he locked eyes with a gaze that looked only at him, Aaron felt as if a massive storm were sweeping over him. It was an unpleasantly familiar emotion—one he could neither control nor manage as he pleased. With a careless hand, he removed his coat and gave a slight jerk of his chin.

“Why are you here?”

“Aaron.”

The awkward expression, the eyes that refused to yield to his will, the nonchalant and brazen smile—everything was exactly as it had been before he left. His breathing gradually grew ragged. The searing heat burning through his heart was enough to snap the reason that had precariously held Aaron together for the past few years.

“I asked why you are here. I am certain I told you to leave this place before I returned.”

“Aaron, first, your clothes—”

MacQueen could not finish his sentence. It was because of a hand that flew swiftly toward him. Slap—with a sharp sound, his head snapped to the side in the direction of the blow. Because so much force had been put into it, his cheek swelled red instantly.

“Get out.”

Despite the repeated command, the man ignored it as if he hadn’t heard, pointing with a composed face toward the table where food had been set.

“Would you like something to eat?”

“I said get out!”

A sharp scream tore between them. It was a raw fury, unbelievable for someone who had lived in silence for years, burying all emotions deep in the earth like a corpse. As soon as the words left his mouth, Aaron raised his hand again with a fierce expression. Before there was any time to stop him, another heavy blow landed on the same spot as before.

Slap!

“…….”

With his head still turned, MacQueen did not look up, staring instead at the floor. More accurately, he stared at Aaron’s feet and legs standing upon the floor. The master, unable to contain his rage, was trembling all over.

“Was my generosity not enough, even after all that?”

“……Aaron.”

“Should I have torn you to shreds and sent you back as a corpse?”

“…….”

“Why don’t you speak with that precious mouth of yours? Wasn’t that the mouth that talked so well at the many salons in Chamber? Where is that dazzling eloquence you used to lure people in the alleys and extort money? Why can’t you say a single word?”

The slanted, downward gaze was filled only with resignation and sadness over the inability to resolve the situation. The more melancholy emotions dominated MacQueen’s mind, the more Aaron’s soul sickened and burned.

“I simply cannot understand.”

“…….”

“I truly cannot understand this act of yours—pretending to be pitiful, begging for sympathy.”

“I am sorry. That was not my intention. I only… hoped to help you stay comfortably while you were here.”

“A life like this?”

“…….”

“If you truly believe this situation makes me comfortable, I feel like cutting open your head to see what’s inside your brain.”

Despite having done nothing.

Despite having done all sorts of filthy things.

A petty, dirty, hideous human being.

“Get out.”

“Aaron……”

“Get out of here, right now.”

“Aaron, I will not obey that command. I… have no intention of leaving your side. You may strike me as much as you wish until your heart is satisfied. If that is what it takes to release it, I will gladly accept it.”

“Get out. I have no desire to engage in further unnecessary conversation with you, so get out. The mere fact of sharing a space with you like this is horrific.”

“I refuse.”

“MacQueen Lester.”

“No matter what you call me, no matter what cruel words you say, I will not leave. Never!”

The man’s wide-open eyes were bloodshot, the capillaries burst. Only then did Aaron stop shouting and stare at the man standing before him.

“……What?”

“Do I look normal to you?”

MacQueen took a step closer to his lover. The lover did not avoid him, but he did not accept him either. They were in the same space, yet at a distance that could never be closed.

“If I look normal, you are mistaken. Until a moment ago, I was completely out of my mind.”

Contrary to his nonchalant smile, his eyes were filled with a gloomy aura. The fact that the other person might truly abandon him now pushed MacQueen to the limit.

“I thought I was going crazy.”

A trembling voice flowed from his distorted lips. It was a voice stained with misery and wretchedness. After wandering all day searching for his lover, the delirium that came with his seizures made it increasingly difficult to distinguish reality from dreams.

“I truly thought I was losing my mind. While waiting for you here……”

“…….”

“Would you not return? Had you truly left for somewhere else? Were those words sincere? If so, what should I do, what should I do? I agonized and suffered a hundred times! A thousand times! I even took out a gun, wondering if this pain would end if I simply died.”

His body, having neither slept nor eaten properly for days, lost strength and staggered. He was so precarious he looked as if he might collapse at any moment, but MacQueen gritted his teeth and endured the pain.

“If I could have left, I would have left long ago.”

As he blinked, a faint moisture gathered at the tips of his eyelashes.

“I know that is what is best for you.”

A wet sigh trembled. A gaze full of greed and obsession did not leave its master for a single second, watching him with a tenacious intensity.

“I know this is what you want.”

Tears that he could no longer hold back began to wet his angular cheeks.

“Have you forgotten? I survived in that filthy, hideous place. I crawled up from the back alleys teeming with vicious criminals by my own hand. Do you think someone like me has a conscience? I am sorry to say, I am not a good person. Nor am I a kind person. I know I must leave for your sake, but it is impossible. Because I feel as though I will die this instant if I do.”

Even as he sobbed quietly, his gaze remained fixed on only one person. It was a look that was fierce, yet muddled with obsession and madness.

“I crawled all the way from the slums to here. I discarded shame and morality long ago. Do you think my survival instinct is ordinary? As you said, I am vulgar and brazen. Therefore, I will stay here. I will never leave you. Never.”

He had to leave. If he were human, that would be the right thing to do. He knew it, but it was impossible. He had to see the living man. Only then could he breathe. He was less than a beast, but hell was something he could go to after death.

“So please, let me stay here. I earnestly beg you to let me stay by your side.”

“…….”

“I want to atone.”

“…….”

“I want to live my life atoning to you. So please……”

Fingers that had lost their strength twitched. It was difficult to find a spot on the outstretched hand that wasn’t scarred. Aaron looked down quietly at his own hand. His unseen body was even more of a wreck, and more broken than his body were his heart, his mind, and his soul.

“Atonement……”

His cold body trembled, and the inside of his mouth was parched. There was nothing that could be undone even with regret. For Aaron Wizfeldon, who was bound to Cornwall, life had always been thus. He could not stop, nor could he turn back. There were only the results and the responsibilities of his choices.

“A word that truly does not suit either you or me.”

That was why he never wanted to be trapped and drowned in the past again. Unable to move forward, yet unable to discard his memories to a hideous degree, without even realizing what those emotions were, for thousands of days……

For thousands of days……

“Until when must I play along with this petty game of yours? Hasn’t it been enough until now? This kind of—”

His endless rage turned toward the table. Scenes that he hadn’t noticed upon entering began to enter Aaron’s field of vision one by one. The old wooden table was filled with food made with clumsy skill. Home-baked bread, meat, stew, and dishes made with potatoes—to put it bluntly, it was food made with sincerity. Aaron found that deception unbearable.

“Haha!”

The emotions surging like a tidal wave could no longer be blocked. His vision turned pitch black with rage. Resentment, hatred, and loathing. Emotions he had forcibly buried and killed countless times in his heart for years suddenly lost control and ran wild. With a face completely devoid of expression, Aaron slowly muttered.

“Who would eat this kind of—”

Crash!

“Aaron, it’s dangerous! Your hand—”

“Who would eat this kind of trash.”

Ice-cold water poured over his head. It was the moment his violent nature, which he had suppressed and endured for the past few years, resurfaced. Within his body flowed blood that was violent and cruel, just like his father’s.

He knew. It was a delusion.

It was a fantasy.

No one living in England would dare do such a thing to him. Even the monarch who reigned over the empire could not do so. The only person who had ever harmed him had long since rotted away into white bones.

Now, no one can hurt me anymore.

No one.

No one.

“Who would eat this kind of trash.”

You, too.

“Aaron!”

———!

The neatly prepared food fell helplessly to the floor or rolled away in plates under his savage touch. Not a single small piece remained; the sincerity of the person who made the food was ruthlessly scattered beneath his feet.

Aaron hoped the man had been happy while making that poison-filled trash. He hoped he had anticipated, hoped, and smiled. Only then would it be worth trampling, tearing, burning, and erasing.

Everything, all of it had to be erased.

The heat, rising to the top of his head, stirred through his entire body. The hot flames burned away Aaron’s remaining reason and intellect, and incinerated his morality and patience. It was also enough to burn black all the sturdy walls he had built and maintained until now.

The prison he had guarded for so long.

The prison that had confined him.

“Now, all of this is just……”

Separate from the rage soaring beyond the critical point, his whispering voice was extremely calm. With an unwavering expressionless face, Aaron threw the tableware to the floor one by one as if playing a game.

“……What use is any of it.”

Clang!

With a sharp shattering sound, a plate broke. The food that had been neatly plated until a moment ago instantly became filth, rolling on the floor.

“Aaron, Aaron!”

A ferocious emotion swallowed Aaron. The claws that had finally emerged scratched both himself and the other, tearing away flesh.

It was the blood of violence. Blood inherited from a murderer. Madness was the price his lineage had willingly paid to protect all the wealth, fame, and power he had enjoyed. That cruel attribute had descended from an ancestor he could not remember, through his monstrous father, and finally to him.

“What use is any of this.”

His shoe crushed the bread and meat. Even amidst the chaotic situation, his eyes remained peaceful as he looked at the cuisine that had become trash. This was the appearance that emerged whenever Aaron Wizfeldon became extremely enraged.

“Aaron, please calm down just a little, just a little……”

“I am not agitated, so move.”

His completely collapsed emotions rolled on the floor. The face of the man before him was distorted to the point where it could not be crumpled any further. Was he in pain? It was a strange feeling.

The more he hurt the other, the more he felt pained himself, rather than triumphant. His throat felt strangled, and his solar plexus felt pressed. A large, firm hand seemed to be choking his neck, trying to cut off his breath. His heated eyes were burning, and his lost emotions became a hot fever that warmed Aaron’s entire body.

“Please, stop this……”

“I told you to step back.”

The crushed food soiled the floor further under his kicks. Aaron trampled the food and tableware even more violently. He picked up the sharp shards and threw them against the wall. In the process, his palm was torn and blood flowed, but there was no change in expression on his calm face.

“Stop it. You’re hurting yourself. Stop!”

“Move.”

“Aaron, Aaron……”

The shards of the broken plates wounded the hands and feet of the violent master who was harming himself. The floor became a mess, to the point where it was unclear whose blood it was or where it was coming from.

“Move!”

“……Please forgive my rudeness.”

“……You!”

After a brief apology, MacQueen hugged his rampaging master. Though he was an adult male like Aaron, the difference in strength was stark. His large hands dug into the sides, waist, and arms, pulling him perfectly into his embrace. As their two hearts touched, a clear beat was transmitted.

“How dare you touch my body. Let go.”

“Aaron, please calm down just a little. Your hand is already injured. Please, please……”

“Let go!”

Bodies touched, skin touched. It was a horrific warmth. At the unexpected closeness achieved for the first time in years, Aaron’s hysterical seizure worsened. His chest, breathing heavily, heaved violently. The speed at which the sturdy walls he had built collapsed was almost futile.

Aaron found the warmth enveloping him so loathsome he could not bear it. He no longer wanted to endure the peaceful restraint the other provided.

He did not want to become accustomed to it.

The wicked emotions he had buried and sealed with wax tried to escape through the long cracks drawn by glass shards.

His heightened senses were sending him a warning.

“Let go, let go!”

Fierce hands rained down mercilessly. Aaron convulsed, trying to break free from the man’s embrace. In the process, MacQueen’s face turned away as he failed to dodge a fist. Violent breathing echoed all around.

Along with dull sounds, violence continued, indiscriminately hitting eyes, nose, head, and back. The more he did so, the more the man held onto his lover desperately without budging. As the time spent acting out grew longer, scratches increased on his clean, masculine face, but the strength of his embrace did not diminish in the slightest.

“Aaron, Aaron……”

“You’re using that wicked mouth again.”

While hugging Aaron with his whole body, MacQueen silently endured the violence pouring onto him. Even with the forceful movements, he felt no pain. He knew the reason. It wasn’t because the other was being lenient or because his heart had softened. It was because, as time passed, the strength drained from the master’s hands regardless of his will.

“Please stop, I beg you.”

“Let go.”

“…….”

“Let go! Let go!”

The fact that he felt no pain no matter how much he was hit made MacQueen even more miserable. It was proof of how broken the master’s body had become. Suppressing the urge to die right then and there, he urgently grabbed both of Aaron’s wrists. He could not let the hands be strained any further. Whenever the lover moved violently or worked for a long time, he suffered from aftereffects for days, agonizing in pain.

“Aaron, please calm down just a little. You must not overexert yourself.”

“No matter how broken my hands and arms are, do you think I cannot handle someone like you?”

“At least, at least let me treat your wounds. Please……”

“It’s horrific to even touch a person like you, so let go!”

“Aaron. Please listen to me! Please!”

Biting his lip hard, MacQueen gripped the wrists firmly. Just a little, he had to calm him down just a little. Any more than this……

“It’s too much of a strain. If you do this, you won’t be able to do any work for days again. Rather, kick me with your feet. Stop using your hands.”

“Who do you think you’re showing that kind of cheap sympathy to?”

“It is not sympathy.”

“Someone like you? Haha!”

With both hands blocked, the rage and seizure intensified. The violence that had been submerged in the deep sea for years broke its leash and clawed at his reason. In his uncontrolled emotion, Aaron had the illusion that his vision was turning bright red.

He couldn’t stand it. It was hard to bear. Aaron struggled more and screamed more violently. It was something unimaginable in the past, when he had suppressed, ignored, despised, and disregarded the other.

“I told you to get lost. Disappear from this house, from my side!”

“……I am sorry.”

“Selfish to the very end.”

Broken emotions rushed in one after another. Emotions that had burned away along with the cabin. There were times when he had harbored a ridiculous expectation and breathed life into them. But now, those emotions had completely turned to ash and scattered.

“Disappear.”

“Aaron……”

“Disappear. Right now.”

“Aaron, Aaron……”

“Let go!”

His broken heart no longer beat. Even while sculpting the pieces he so longed for, even while breathing life into stone, it was difficult to recover the joy of the past.

Even though there was nowhere left to return to, an uncontrollable void continued to grow. Let go, let go. Meaningless demands and desperate pleas were repeated endlessly. As if the wicked dog had no intention of following orders from the start, he hugged the sickly body even tighter. With a tenderness and longing that could fool anyone. He was truly a brazen man.

“Aaron, please, please…”

No matter how much he struggled, this mad bond continued to strangle Aaron’s neck. Suddenly, the body that had stopped resisting trembled with laughter.

The commotion of throwing things and kicking just moments ago vanished like a lie. Hahaha—the sound of laughter rang out loudly. His body shook, unable to contain the violent laughter. His tattered palms were already smeared with blood.

“You deceived me.”

Silence fell instantly.

Huff, huff, huff. Rough breathing and hollow laughter mixed in a mess. His body, having exhausted all its strength, was worn out. A massive gravity was weighing him down. A sense of lethargy settled over his entire body.

“You played me.”

The eyes that met again were stained with bewilderment. Aaron knew a forest that resembled that color. The vast, isolated forest in the easternmost part of Northampton that no one knew about. That greenery, which had been painfully beautiful.

“Aaron…”

His lips and jaw moved awkwardly. His vacant eyes were hazily wet, floundering through a dream.

“You erased me.”

“Aaron!”

The body, composed of firm muscles and bone, hugged Aaron frantically. For some reason, the shameless man seemed more terrified of the current situation than the rampage from moments ago. The limp body no longer gave any reaction.

“That is not the case.”

“…….”

“It really wasn’t like that.”

“It wasn’t?”

The surging memories finally swallowed Aaron whole. The rage, running wild beyond its limit, finally dragged out the questions he had pushed to the far reaches of his memory. Unable to withstand the indiscriminately pouring emotions, Aaron finally tilted his head back.

“……Why.”

Under a pressure so intense it was hard to breathe, he tilted his head further back to look at the ceiling. It was nothing more than a plain wall, but he had the illusion of seeing a magnificent chandelier. The clock hands, completely broken and ruined, had begun to move on their own at some point.

“Why did you hand my scandals over to the press?”

The clock, which had first stopped, now pointed to a time in the distant past that he couldn’t even remember accurately.

Perhaps it was the winter that had been the most terrible and cruel for him.

“You found out in such detail—did you even plant someone by my side since my time at Eton?”

The firm back flinched violently. The gloomy laughter deepened. Once the wall collapsed, the reason he had solidified for years was scattered. Questions he had suppressed for over ten years poured out incoherently.

“Was it a deal with the Duke of Devonshire?”

“…….”

“Did you want everyone in England to despise me?”

“……Aaron.”

A pitiful voice called his name. Deep blue darkness was gathering outside the window. Aaron laughed flippantly and asked again.

“Or did you want me to fall?”

The secret and dissolute private life of a high noble’s son that had stirred the city of London—the route through which he first learned of that article, which dealt a moral blow from which it was hard to recover, was through the monster who visited the St. Louis ward.

“Were you only thinking of stabbing me in the back the moment I regained my memories?”

“Your rumors spread throughout all of England. Now even the people in the slums are talking about you. Do you know what they call you while you’re holed up here? They call you an opium addict crazed for women. You finally dragged the family honor through the dirt!”

“…….”

“You’d better stop thinking of killing time here. I don’t know how long you’ll refuse, but in this situation, the only ones who can save you are Cornwall and I.”

“…….”

“You must not forget your duty. You are the heir who will lead the Cornwall family. You must play the role fitting for that position.”

He couldn’t remember what he had replied to the demon who spoke so arbitrarily. He guessed it was either a rampage, a seizure, or ignoring him—likely one of those.

“Aaron…”

The dog called his name with a voice mixed with sobbing. It was a loathsome performance.

The time that had traveled to the past stepped back once more. He recalled the dog who had been sleeping carelessly in the forest of his estate. How were they back then?

“Why did you leak the Rodinton files? Did you want to blow that up as an extra edition as well?”

“……Aaron.”

“Did you want to announce my father’s and my incompetence to the world?”

“…….”

“You must have expected a grand finale; were you frustrated that Cornwall self-destructed?”

In the process of Rodinton’s self-destruction, it wasn’t difficult to discover the intervention of external forces. The double-entry accounting books, the core issue, were leaking detailed contents and statistics in real-time. It took only a few days to identify the person at the end of that flow.

“I…”

Broad shoulders trembled. The hearts touching each other also beat irregularly. It was an indicator that clearly signaled an unstable state.

Perhaps the dog was crying. But Aaron knew now. That man was cunning. He now knew that all of the man’s reactions were calculated malice and lies. Therefore, he knew he must not expect anything and must never trust him. He must not be fooled by any excuse. The price of foolishness always returned as ruin. All these conclusions were truths he had learned through the time he had personally experienced and endured.

“Why did you mix opium into the tea leaves?”

“Aaron…”

“Did you want me to die? Did you want me to become a wreck, addicted to opium again?”

“No.”

The body hugging him tightened further. No. A formulaic answer, no different from those before, came from the dog’s mouth. In an unprepared state, the half-naked man was desperate to hide his sins.

“Only those tea leaves… I truly didn’t do it. The tea leaves… really…”

Despair finally seeped into the fragmented voice.

“That one thing… is truly a misunderstanding.”

Ignoring all the emotional agitation the other showed, Aaron continued in a cold, sunken voice.

“They were mixed to the point where I didn’t even know what kinds were in there.”

“It’s a misunderstanding… I…”

“The physician told me. He said it was a gift full of truly malicious intent. That it would be difficult to mix that many ingredients unless there was a will to completely annihilate my soul.”

“…….”

“He told me to suspect those close to me.”

“……Aaron.”

While held tightly without a gap, Aaron lifted his right hand and stared at it. It was a hand full of unsightly scars, layered over a long period. His leg was the same. Due to the aftereffects of an injury during the war, his right leg also failed to function properly. His steps to hide the pain were slow and cautious.

As a price for treating his body carelessly, his arms and legs wailed in all sorts of pain if he overexerted himself even slightly. But the most broken thing was not those kinds of hands and feet.

“Aaron.”

MacQuan, hugging his lover desperately, spoke cautiously.

“……I know you do not trust me. But those tea leaves, I did not do that.”

Laughter he couldn’t contain burst out again. Aaron nodded in agreement.

“Yes. I remember you saying the tea leaves weren’t you.”

“The tea leaves really weren’t me. Absolutely not in that quantity…”

“I don’t trust you at all, but.”

“…….”

“Then did you try something else?”

“Aaron…”

The man’s body flinched violently, far more than before.

“Why?”

The large hand wrapping around his back tightened further. The dog realized instinctively. That after this night passed, he might forever lose the most important and noble person in his life. That this moment might be his final life.

“Why?”

With his cheek leaning against the other’s broad shoulder, Aaron whispered quietly.

“Did you want to make me addicted to drugs again?”

“……Aaron.”

“Did you want to make me an opium addict? Is that why you seduced me so much?”

“…….”

“Even to the point of selling your body?”

Unstable breath soiled his nape. All those reactions were the answer to the question. His body trembled from a rapidly approaching chill.

The emotions from when he received the report from the physician flooded back. Whether it was anger, disappointment, self-mockery, self-reproach, irritability, hatred… or some other emotion. He couldn’t remember.

“Why?”

The large hole in his chest screamed. Aaron frowned and struggled to swallow his breath.

“Why?”

“Aaron…”

Time leaped again, flowing back to an even more distant past. To a point in one of those wretched seasons that had repeated several times, when he had discovered a foolish man sleeping peacefully in his estate.

“Why did you do it?”

Long eyelashes blinked. Beneath them, eyes as glossy as glass groped through a dream. Why? Despite the continuing questions, the dog could not give any answer. He only called his name like an idiot.

No matter how much time passed, the question did not disappear. In truth, Aaron had always wanted to ask. He had always wanted to ask the man who brazenly acted out a ridiculous purity before him.

“Was my existence a hindrance to leading the war dispatch plan?”

“…….”

“Did you want to get rid of me?”

“…….”

“Speak.”

A violent storm rose in the deep blue eyes.

Why.

Why did he do it.

“Why did you lie and say you had feelings for me?”

Why he had put all his effort into destroying one person.

“Aaron…”

The emotion the dog showed after being caught in a stolen kiss was clearly contempt. A perfect contempt that could not be replaced by any other word, the conviction of having grasped the other’s weakness, intense euphoria. He acted like a skilled merchant, but in reality, he was a man who didn’t know how to hide his inner thoughts even a little.

“At that time, you certainly despised me.”

“…….”

“The look in your eyes for me was nothing but loathing and contempt.”

“…….”

“Don’t say it wasn’t.”

Despite having such eyes, the dog endlessly whispered love to him. He kissed him, mixed bodies, and acted anxious. Even knowing it, the man performed so perfectly as an actor that Aaron wanted to be fooled by that false, affectionate side.

“Did you want to ruin me so much that you’d endure a disgusting relationship? While offering up that body of yours?”

“No, Aaron…”

“Or did you want to make me feel secure and then dig up my weaknesses? Did you want to obtain information that could become a weakness for that damn monster?”

“No…”

“Or perhaps you wanted to completely destroy the one who is the heir, the one that man is abnormally obsessed with.”

“No, it’s not.”

The wet voice trembled mercilessly. The man bowed his head, covering his eyes. The voice denying it grew faint and showed no confidence whenever the questions pierced the core. Aaron let out a hollow laugh and whispered.

“Even without going through such trouble, couldn’t you have just hired someone to assassinate me? Or you could have disguised it as an accidental death. That was a method my father often used.”

“Aaron… please listen to me.”

The touch of the embrace was desperate. Despite the countless words pouring out, Aaron could hear nothing. Fragments of the past were mixed incoherently. The order of all memories was a mess.

Perhaps the one who lost their memories wasn’t you, but me.

“What meaning is there in such a carving tool.”

“……!”

The startled body momentarily pulled away. Despite being the one to pull back first, the anxious MacQuan could not let go of Aaron’s arms until the end.

Their gazes met again. The eyes full of confusion reflected the person standing opposite him exactly.

Is that madman-like, corpse-like man me?

Aaron stared quietly at his unfamiliar reflection in the green irises. Even though it was clearly his face, it felt strange and made him feel nauseous.

“Even though you were purchasing it of your own will, you seemed not to know what you were doing. With your hands, you were picking things up as if you were about to rob the shop, but your face was completely distorted with an expression of ‘why am I buying this,’ so I struggled for a long time to hold back my laughter.”

Why did you…

“You said it was a gift, but unless they are a sculptor, who would like such a gift…”

Why…

“It has no meaning.”

The voice that scraped out of his throat was completely hoarse. Behind the thick eyelashes, eyes like bright jewels looked toward a distant place. Even though more than ten years had passed, he was still left alone in that forest.

“How… did you know?”

The man, who had been utterly brazen until now, turned his head with a troubled face. The green eyes, unable to hide their embarrassment, shook violently. The fingertips stroking his chin even had slight tremors.

“Did you visit the Miguelen Trading Company?”

MacQuan could not immediately continue his words. Since it was a question asked while already knowing the answer, no response was needed.

“That was just…”

The cool, extended eyes distorted with agony. Toward the opponent who stared at him and urged an answer, he finally opened his mouth after a long silence.

“……I don’t know either.”

With an air full of nervousness and embarrassment, MacQuan traced old memories. Throughout his speaking, a sense of bewilderment was pervasive.

“I just, at the time, thought I should buy it.”

He also stroked his cheek and jaw several times, stammering as if he didn’t know what to do.

“That was my only thought.”

Aaron sneered. It was truly a loathsome performance. The dog had to pay the price for deceiving him. It was right to insult him, despise him, say cruel words, and make him crawl on the floor.

“Something like that has no meaning.”

“……Aaron.”

“Everything about me is ruined.”

“…….”

“I can no longer carve as I did before… now these hands can only produce trash.”

At the calm delivery of the facts, MacQuan’s expression was stained with anguish. Please forgive me. The trembling voice offered an apology. Perhaps that wicked dog was feeling guilt anew.

“Forgive me. Please give me a chance to take responsibility for my sins, please…”

Aaron found such a reaction strange. The damage and ruin were no one’s fault. From beginning to end, Aaron had decided every judgment of his own will. In that process, neither his father, who had been like a devil to him his whole life, nor this dog had any influence. Therefore, regardless of whether it was good or bad, the result of the choice was entirely his own share.

Losing his most precious talent was simply part of the same thing.

“Yes. These hands are just trash.”

A laugh leaked through his lips. With a heart that had erased all greed, painful stimulation flooded in. The words that couldn’t become language wandered around his lips for a long time, lost.

“…….”

In a short time, many thoughts passed through his mind. How to give the other the most painful wound, how to leave a scar that would never be erased—it was a low-quality, twisted euphoria of wanting the other to suffer.

“Now they are completely useless.”

No matter what he said or did, that man was being hurt by all of his reactions.

Aaron felt euphoria at that. He felt so happy and gratified that he even felt the urge to laugh louder.

“That was just…”

The moment their eyes met, scattered gazes were exchanged. The man, with a completely frozen face, was looking at Aaron.

Fear.

The emotion dwelling in the eyes that resembled a forest, sinking infinitely deep, was clear fear.

“…….”

His parched lips twitched several times, attempting to say something.

For some reason, the words that finally came out after long effort were in a completely different direction from the questions filling his head.

“Was that carving tool a gift for Lady Elisha?”

“It was probably a gift to win the favor of the Lady who came along.”

“I’m asking if it was a gift to win her heart, hoping she would turn her attention to a new hobby.”

“…….”

“Did she ask you, saying those fragile hands wanted to try making a plaster statue? Did you want to grant her wish?”

“Aaron.”

He knew that couldn’t be it.

He knew that not only the daughter of Lenzdoor, but anyone with noble status, would feel insulted rather than pleased by such a gift. Nevertheless, Aaron had to confirm. It was the question that dominated him throughout the journey back from Yorkshire.

Why.

Why did he do it.

Why, back then, did you.

“No.”

It was a firm denial. With a steady gaze and clear tone, he denied the meaning of the person who had once been an acquaintance.

“Or did you want to share a new hobby with her? Did you want to pretend to be a petty noble?”

“That is not the case.”

The dog muttered again in a gloomy voice. He looked so truly desperate that Aaron tilted his head slightly. In the cold, sunken night air, the heat that had wrapped around his mind was gradually cooling down.

“That painting was mine.”

Before long, the questions turned toward the painting he had torn to shreds long ago. His reason gradually returned to its place. The voice, from which the fierce energy had vanished in an instant, held no strength. MacQueen, recognizing immediately which painting it was, closed his eyes in despair.

“It was a painting of myself, painted by me.”

“…….”

“A painting of my dog.”

“……Forgive me.”

“……You gave that painting to another.”

He would never be able to paint that pitiful man again. He would never again carve every form that composed the man. Along with the canvas ruthlessly torn by his own hands, his twisted and distorted heart had also been ripped away. As the sorrowful reproaches continued, MacQueen, who had been pretending to be composed, finally broke down.

“Did your fiancée like it?”

“Aaron……”

“Was she happy to receive that painting?”

“…….”

“Was it intentional to hang it in the Long Gallery for all to see? To show it to me?”

“……No.”

“Then why.”

“Please forgive me.”

Transparent tears finally carved a path down his cheeks and fell. I was wrong. Please forgive me. Please, forgive me. The dog remained clinging to Aaron, bowing his upper body. Unable to withstand the weight, his body collapsed. Following that, the dog sank to his knees.

“You spoke of love while despising me.”

“That is not true.”

“You were always waiting to plunge a knife into my back.”

“……That is not so.”

“Deceiving me…… betraying me……”

“…….”

“You hated me.”

It was not the usual malice, shouting, or cursing. It was merely a whisper, like talking to oneself.

“Strange, isn’t it.”

A self-mocking smile rested on the corners of his lips.

“Looking back…… the things you did to me and the things I did to you weren’t that different.”

Fragmented scenes surfaced one by one. The man had been cruel to him, but the schemes he and his father had concocted to harm the man were equally cruel. The emotional violence the man inflicted upon him had been a mutual exchange. Unfortunately, Aaron lacked the temperament to understand him, and he was someone who had never learned consideration or empathy.

“The one who was truly like a demon was my old father. If I were to resent anyone for such things, it should be my father first, not you……”

“…….”

“I never once resented that man. Of course, I loathed him, hated him, and always wished for his death. But it was a slightly different emotion.”

Aaron stared blankly at MacQueen’s hair. Not a trace of red remained. It was only natural, given that several years had passed.

“I wonder why.”

Long eyelashes flickered.

“Regarding your deception, why could I not endure it to the point of losing you? I’ve always wondered about that.”

It was a pure curiosity. Aaron tilted his head to the side. He recalled his past self, who had collapsed and broken over and over again.

“What could the reason have been.”

Even amidst countless collapses and breakages, the foolish choice and expectation—the one he couldn’t discard until the end, the one he kept as a possibility for reconstruction even while believing he had discarded and defiled it.

“Aaron……”

Facing emotions that had become completely empty and turned to ash, MacQueen collapsed in despair. A hopeless despair without an exit enveloped him. For a while, gloomy sobbing continued. Tears he couldn’t bring himself to wipe away fell repeatedly down his cheeks to the floor.

“I know that I cannot be forgiven, nor should I be. I also know that I must never beg for your mercy for eternity. I will not deny my past, the filthy life I led.”

The crown of the head bowed low entered his field of vision. A numb gaze swept over him. Not a single trace of the red dye from his own hand remained.

“Too many things have happened to regret, and there is nothing that can be undone, but……”

“…….”

“I want to remain by your side.”

This man was not the dog who had waited only for him in Ramdiff Forest. He had the same body and the same face, but he was a different person with a different soul. He was merely a shell covering the flesh; he was clearly a different person, yet Aaron could not easily admit that fact. He did not want to believe that a person who had certainly existed had completely vanished from his life.

“You are……”

His lips were dry. The heat of the summer afternoon must have persisted. The trembling of his hand was undoubtedly a sequela of his injury. A slight tremor touched the thick brown hair. At that faint touch, the sobbing body stiffened for a moment.

“You are not Theodore.”

Dark brown hair became entangled between fingers marked by fine cracks. You are not my dog. His irritable lips repeatedly spat out the same words.

“You are MacQueen Lester, the opium merchant of Galloway.”

“My real name is……”

Aaron recalled the man on the train leaving London, who had shed all his past in a calm voice. He remembered the sorrowful air of that time and the ecstasy of leaving that tedious prison.

He couldn’t remember what he had thought the moment he heard the name the man had cautiously revealed to him. He had simply been so exhausted and tired that he wanted to let go of everything in his life.

“That name you mentioned…… is none of my concern.”

“…….”

“I truly believe this time has no meaning.”

At the desolate whisper, MacQueen slowly raised his head. Two gazes that had circled for an eternity finally met. It was a hollow, empty, void look.

“……It does not matter.”

Depending on the light, his lover’s eyes were sometimes like a deep sea and sometimes like a clear sky. There was a time when he had tried to end his life at the thought that he would never see those eyes again. Compared to that despair, the rejection and avoidance he faced now were bearable pains.

“Whatever you call me. Whether you resent me or despise me……”

“…….”

“It is enough that you are alive.”

“…….”

“It is enough if I can simply see you by my side.”

Eyes engraved with fervent longing, worship, and an affection deeper than that, directed toward Aaron. It was a heat that felt as if it would cause a laceration. The hand touching the hair moved slightly lower.

“Where are the carving tools?”

It was a very small whisper. The voice, steeped in deep melancholy, was as faint as a candle in the wind. It was a simple question, but MacQueen realized once again how terrifying human words could be.

“……In Bristone.”

The voice, laced with a sob, was low and gloomy.

It was a gift he hadn’t known why he bought or who he should give it to.

“Do you still have them?”

“……Yes.”

“A useless expenditure.”

“…….”

A straight forehead touched his fingertips. Even at that small gesture, the large body flinched. He touched the soft texture of the thick eyebrows. Then the prominent eyelids, the long line of the eyes, the long eyelashes beneath them, and the high, straight bridge of the nose, in succession. The tactile sensation in his hand led to the cheeks with sharp lines.

“I also still have the stone carving you once gave me.”

“…….”

The hand groping the face stopped. Aaron was thirsty for the longing directed toward those dense emerald eyes.

“Something like that is just trash.”

“……But I could not throw it away.”

A sob followed, whether it was laughter or crying.

“Because it is one of the few traces you left for me.”

“…….”

“Even during those days when I lost my memory and deceived you, I longed for you. For you and everything that composed you. To the point where I obsessed over the painting you drew for me unconsciously. My obsession was that hideous and clingy.”

Following the hand that cupped and lifted his cheek, MacQueen naturally raised his head to look at the man who would be his eternal lover and master.

Aaron also carefully examined the face of the man trapped in both his hands. He was crying even while smiling brightly. It was a grotesque expression.

A strange face.

Familiar eyes, nose, mouth, cheeks, chin.

A face he had consciously avoided for years.

“It was from the beginning.”

Tracing old memories, the man tilted his head and rubbed his wet cheek against Aaron’s palm. Transparent tears repeatedly formed and fell from the tips of his long, thick eyelashes. The man had so many tears it was almost comical given his greater age. Like someone of humble origin, he was a man who knew no shame.

Aaron hesitated for a moment, then with an awkward gesture, wiped the moisture from the man’s eyes. At that clumsy contact, the sobbing grew louder.

“From the moment I first saw you, I could see nothing but you.”

MacQueen recalled his lover lying on a bright red chaise longue in the Spencer Earl Family residence. He had never once forgotten that moment.

“I was afraid of that unfamiliar emotion, so I dismissed it as contempt and ignored it. I said I deceived you. No, that was not it. The one I truly deceived was myself. I hid my true feelings by despising you, looking down on you, and mocking you.”

His body heaved repeatedly, unable to withstand his agitated breath. This was the first time he was pouring out the inner thoughts he had only ever whispered when the other was deeply asleep or unconscious.

“I was a coward who didn’t even have the courage to acknowledge my own feelings.”

MacQueen recalled the lover who had come to find him after he regained consciousness. He had wanted to hug and hold onto that lonely back as it turned to leave. He wanted to cling to his ankles and apologize so that he couldn’t leave that room. The emotion that surged up the moment the man turned his eyes away—at the time, he had merely regarded it as contempt.

“I thought of it only as an emotion that threatened me.”

MacQueen grasped the hand cupping his cheek. It was a desperate gesture, as if that thin, scarred hand were the last lifeline to save him.

“It was just an intense attraction, that was all.”

The surroundings, where no one else was present, were silent. In the old mansion on the outskirts of Yorkshire, there wasn’t a single common servant. It was because the master of the house was extremely wary of others. For a long time now, they had been living in a space where only the two of them existed, parasitizing each other.

Even while ignoring one another.

Even while eating away at each other, for that was enough.

“Before I lost my memory, after I lost it, and after my memory returned, that emotion has never changed.”

“…….”

“You do not have to believe me.”

Stars were pouring down from the pitch-black sky. The dog, who had wandered in hesitation, reached out further to wrap his arms around his master’s back. Following the pulling force, Aaron naturally leaned his body toward him.

“I do not think you will believe me. I do not dare to hope for it. I know that this endless deficiency is my sin. It is likely a problem I must resolve until the moment I die. I know.”

MacQueen desperately grasped the last chance given to him. The man, who had spent his life keenly analyzing every stimulus and piece of information to survive, knew that this death-like silence did not signify only despair.

“So, please hate me, curse me, and despise me. I will simply stay by your side.”

Greedy hands immediately crossed his back, embracing his shoulders and nape all at once. Contrary to his worries, Aaron no longer tore away the merchant who clung to him so persistently.

“Please do not throw me away.”

“…….”

“Please allow me a place by your side. Even a very small one is fine.”

The dog begged piteously in a voice that had grown completely hoarse. Contradictory emotions, which filled up instantly no matter how much he emptied them, escaped in a long breath. Faint moonlight shone into the space where only the two of them remained.

“Aaron.”

“…….”

“……My master.”

“…….”

“I was your dog.”

Memories of a longed-for greenery overwhelmed him. An illusion arose that he could smell the fresh scent of the forest, and emotions covered in all sorts of colors gathered and dug in. It was a chest slaughtered by a dull, blunt blade. It was a dead heart that should not have reacted to any stimulus. However, this throb was clearly a stimulus originating from somewhere in his own chest. It was evidence of life, obtained because he was not dead but alive.

“I was your Theodore.”

“…….”

“I was your Theo. I was Theodore. I was your……”

Unable to contain his emotions, the man bit his lip. Eyes reddened by burst capillaries spoke for his intense emotions.

“I was your dog……”

In the words he spoke, chewing over every single syllable, condensed remorse and emotion were carried. A gaze, obsessive to a pathological degree, followed every element that composed Aaron Wizfeldon. As if he would never lose him again, as if he would never let him slip away. The stone carving, the sketches, and even the painting that had been torn and burned and had now vanished from the world.

“Truly greedy, aren’t you.”

Even though he had uttered only a single phrase, his throat tightened. Emotions that had been leaping wildly without direction calmed down like a lie. Two eyes, wavering and shimmering aimlessly, met. An illusion arose that he was being drawn in infinitely.

“Aaron.”

“Stop it.”

He pushed away the firm chest. In that moment, a strong grip that would not tolerate even a small distance again pulled Aaron back.

“Just a little……”

“……Stop.”

“Please allow me just a little more.”

As they grew closer, the other’s breath became more distinct. Warmth mingled. At the closer distance, lips parted and a gaze full of longing dug in. Even when he turned his head away in discomfort, the vulgar dog used every mean trick to endlessly meet his eyes and call him.

“Let me stay by your side.”

“…….”

“Please, give me the chance to seek your forgiveness for the rest of my life by your side……”

My Aaron.

My master.

My lover.

It was a gaze that embraced only him and looked only at him. It was also the longing gaze he had lost long ago. Emotions buried beneath the ground lost control and stepped forward boldly.

“…….”

Aaron only moved his lips silently. He wanted to tear apart that shameless mouth that so readily held sweet and servile words. He wanted to make him crawl on the floor miserably for the rest of his life. It was truly a sweet, potent poison.

Looking at the man pleading with wet eyes, Aaron realized that he was feeling intense murderous intent and euphoria simultaneously.

“Please give me a chance.”

A demon mocked him and asked.

Can you ignore such servile begging until the end? Can you heartlessly discard that man? Can you tear and destroy that vile soul with cruel words? Just as was done to my father, can you strangle that man and finally cut off his breath?

“Aaron, please.”

It did not take long for an answer to return to the extreme question. He could kill him, but he did not want to. He wanted to trample him, but he wanted to put a leash on him and watch him wither away.

While wanting him to vanish from his sight forever, he also wanted him to be under his control when he desired.

“…….”

Aaron finally faced the wounds of his past, which had been cut and torn into tatters over a long period. He faced his own avoidance, his wretchedness, and his weakness.

The reason he had ordered the man to leave this mansion amidst thousands of contradictions was that he hoped his fortress would no longer collapse. He hoped that because of that man, not a single small wound would ever form anywhere in his heart again.

“My master……”

It was laughable.

He met again the gaze of the dog who looked only at him and followed his emotions and actions. And only then did Aaron have to admit that he could no longer hide the emotions he had cruelly murdered over a long period. A desire that could not be erased. Evidence of a greed that he had coveted, uniquely, aside from carving.

Evidence of fear.

“……Theo.”

It was the one and only deficiency he possessed.

✧ ✧ ✧

Lips locked tightly sought and coveted the other greedily. As soon as they lay on the bed, another hand covered the hand gripping the collar, trapping it so it could not escape.

“Aaron, Aaron.”

The piteous, whispering calls reflected the anxiety MacQueen was feeling. Knowing that answering was useless, Aaron frowned irritably and pushed away the firm body.

“Let go……”

When they separated for a moment to breathe, the other immediately followed, unable to bear the gap. The sheets were messily crumpled following the rough movements, but neither of them cared.

“Mmh.”

Their heads tilted, and hot tongues licked lips and jaws. A tongue that broke through the teeth swam softly. Digging deeper into the man, Aaron bared his teeth. He became intoxicated by a strange excitement, as if he would eventually bite and tear the other apart.

“Ngh.”

The carelessly bitten lip soon tore and bled. It hurts, he muttered grumpily, yet MacQueen did not give up the kiss. He tilted his head further and pressed his body closer. It was a desperate movement.

“Aaron……”

“Haa.”

The movement of the tongue to further open the slightly parted lips was explicit. Naked excitement flared up at the blatant act.

Even though they were pressed so close that there was no more space to get nearer, MacQueen hugged his lover and pushed himself forward blindly. The touch stroking the scarred body was desperate and sorrowful. He was overwhelmed by every sensation of his lover’s skin touching his own.

It was only after a long time that their bodies finally touched. It had to be a hallucination. It had to be a tactile illusion. It was surely a fantasy conjured by that damned opium. That was why he had to keep confirming it—the fact that you were before his eyes, that you hadn’t left him, and that you were still alive.

“Aaron.”

His voice was thick with unmistakable excitement.

“Aaron…”

“Shut up.”

Aaron replied irritably, his brow furrowing at the man who did nothing but call his name. The useless words were too long. With urgent hands, MacQuan began unbuttoning the shirt the other was wearing. Hands stripping away each other’s clothes fumbled impatiently before finally casting off the remaining shirt.

“Mmm…”

Aaron opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. Their ragged breaths mingled. As a moderately thick, hot tongue swept recklessly through his mouth, a sensual heat surged through him. Even in the darkness, the hands roaming up and down his body were relentless.

“Mmm…”

“Aaron… Aaron.”

A firm, muscular body leaned over Aaron. The familiar weight of that sturdy frame provided a strange sense of stability. With the moonlight behind him, the contours of his face were sharply defined by light and shadow, giving him a more three-dimensional appearance. Without realizing it, Aaron raised a hand to cup the sunken cheek.

Their eyes met.

A moment passed where they simply gazed at one another in silence.

“Aaron…”

A deep shadow fell across the face illuminated by the lamp. MacQuan tilted his head, gently rubbing his cheek against the hand that held him. Warm lips touched a wound on the palm, a remnant of the earlier commotion. Because it hadn’t been properly treated, the slight movement caused blood to bead once again.

“Does it hurt?”

As he whispered low while licking the wound, Aaron responded instead of answering with a crooked expression and a scoff. At that faint sound of laughter, MacQuan’s eyes grew red once more.

“Aaron.”

“…”

“Is it really you?”

It was the image of the lover he had believed was completely lost long ago. As he blinked, tears finally spilled over and traced paths down his cheeks.

“Is it really… you?”

He leaned down to kiss him again. He bit the soft lips and licked the jawline. The line extending from the nape of the neck to the earlobes burned under a seamless trail of kisses. Wet breaths, soft moans, and bold, explicit hand gestures probing deep inside were exchanged.

The large hand that had been stroking the nape and shoulders soon descended to the lean chest. Across the pale skin, red scars remained as evidence of war. The palm, which had been hesitantly tracing those marks, suddenly tightened.

“Ah!”

Aaron instinctively arched his back at the rough gesture of the hand gripping his entire chest at once. Leaning down, MacQuan began to suckle the chest he had gathered in his grip.

“Ah…”

Strength was poured into the hand digging through the brown hair. Ah— ah— uncontrollable moans repeatedly escaped his lips. By the time the area around the chest was completely drenched in saliva, one areola, having been sucked, swelled red.

“It hurts!”

The mischievous man bit the moderately swollen nipple. A jolt of pain and a corresponding flood of pleasure surged. Aaron tilted his head back, guiding the dog’s face toward the other breast. The rough, thick tongue adhered to the breast waiting for another thrill, repeatedly sucking greedily. It was a persistent struggle to leave his mark everywhere he could see. For a while, the sound of wet friction filled the silence.

“I…”

“Mmm… ngh…”

“I.”

Their fully erect genitals pressed against each other through the fabric of pants that hadn’t yet been removed. As he slowly moved his hips, rubbing them together to create friction, Aaron’s legs naturally parted.

Not missing the opportunity, MacQuan quickly positioned himself. The blunt tip of the glans was drenched in pre-cum. Before long, the ferociously swollen member moved menacingly, as if it would pass through the perineum and find the deep hole at any moment.

“Hngh…”

Unable to withstand the pleasure, Aaron’s firm thighs tightened. A faint moan, resembling a sob, escaped. Suppressing the urge to dive into the hidden depths of the body, MacQuan continued speaking.

“How much… I…”

The high bridge of his nose rubbed softly against Aaron’s. Their philtrums touched, and then their lips met again. Though it was impossible, a sweet scent lingered. He wanted to find the hidden place. He wanted to be connected until the end. He wanted to press himself perfectly against his lover, inserting his member to the very hilt so they could never be separated. In this moment, MacQuan desired a perfect union that nothing could sever.

Though he was the one who had started the conversation, MacQuan had no room for dialogue. Whenever his lips parted from Aaron’s for even a second, he leaned in to lick and entwine. Saliva he couldn’t swallow flowed past his lips, wetting his chin.

“How much…”

MacQuan opened his mouth wider, repeatedly licking and wetting Aaron’s lips, chin, and the area around the mouth. Haa. Feverish breaths clouded the ears. Even as profane hands repeatedly pushed back the fine platinum blonde hair, the lover no longer stopped him.

“You could never know how much I longed for this moment…”

MacQuan etched every detail of the lover beneath him into his mind. It was a persistent, greedy gaze, determined not to miss a single instant.

“Haa…”

“Just a little… more…”

His patience did not last long. Urgent hands hurried to strip away the remaining clothes of the one lying beneath him. In an instant, the two faced each other completely naked, without a single thread of clothing. Although Aaron was also a grown man, due to his natural frame, the difference in their physiques had widened compared to a few years ago.

“Mmm, ngh…”

“Please look at me a little more.”

With a careful touch, MacQuan turned Aaron’s body. As he moved from the neck to the shoulders, back, waist, and further down, the voice calling his lover grew gradually distant. The moment hot breath touched the secret entrance between the buttocks, Aaron instinctively flinched.

“It’s alright.”

I won’t hurt you. Never. Whispering words to whom he was promising, MacQueen parted the flesh of the plumpest area to the left and right and buried his face there.

“Ah-!”

As Aaron twisted his waist, unable to handle the excessive pleasure, a large hand firmly pinned his body to prevent him from moving. Sluu— slurp. At the sound so obscene it made the heat rise to his head, Aaron gasped for breath and shuddered. The tongue and fingers, probing recklessly, steadily widened the inner walls. The fluids coating the area were such that there was no longer a need to distinguish between saliva and semen.

“Aaron…”

After the long foreplay, the man rose and gave a light kiss. Aaron responded by turning only his upper body, then eventually embraced the man driven mad by lust in a position where they faced each other fully.

“Aaron… Aaron.”

A large, rough hand cupped Aaron’s cheek. The other hand continuously stroked his slender flank and firm stomach. The scar-covered body moved beneath him.

“Ngh…”

“Would you… spread your legs a little more?”

The hand diving deeper between the already parted legs was relentless. The lean thighs, spread wide, wrapped around MacQuan’s waist. It was a movement urging insertion.

“…Ah.”

“Huu…”

At that clear intention, their two members, already leaking fluid despite not having ejaculated, collided vividly. The fully erect members were quite threatening, but he did not want to end this desperate night so easily or quickly.

MacQuan gritted his teeth to resist the urge to insert, kissing Aaron’s cheek. The hands kneading the buttocks recklessly carried a sense of urgency.

“Just do it.”

Aaron, dissatisfied with the slow foreplay, whispered brusquely. It was a voice clearly harboring sexual desire.

“…I can’t.”

“It’s fine.”

The tension had long since vanished due to the prolonged foreplay. Between the slender legs, the area was already drenched with saliva from the stimulation and the semen they had both released.

“Ngh… Aaron…”

As the legs wrapped around his waist tightened further, MacQuan finally let out a strained moan he could no longer suppress.

“If you do this, ngh… it’s hard for me to hold back.”

“Ah…”

Finally losing his patience, his hands hooked Aaron’s legs over his arms. Along the opened body, the drenched space between the legs became even more vivid. The only lights illuminating the room were a couple of lamps, but that was enough to steal a glimpse of the traces of desire. Unable to resist the desire stemming from the body disheveled by his own hand, MacQuan lay long and flat over his lover’s body again.

“I missed you.”

Facing the scars scattered across the white body was agony for MacQuan. Yet, at the same time, it was overwhelming and lovely. From the gunshot wound on the shoulder to the marks on the arms, hands, and legs—these traces of life were evidence that his lover was alive.

“During the time I was apart from you… waiting was agony.”

“…”

“Faith, too, was a hell.”

Tracing the raised scars on the skin, MacQuan bit the lover’s long neck. Hng. The sigh-like moan was lovely. The white naked body was now perfectly within his embrace. Bare chests rubbed together, and as legs intertwined, their lower bodies locked deeper. It was a desperate struggle, as if they had been one body since the beginning of time.

“Aaron…”

“Mmm…”

“Aaron, Aaron…”

At the gesture of the cheek leaning into his palm, MacQuan lowered his head and kissed him urgently again. It was sweet, so sweet. It was sweet enough that he wouldn’t mind if it were poison. As the heat surged, his eyes grew hot. It was an emotion too fearful to be called simple lust—a happiness so intense he felt he could die right now. Seeing the cold moisture in the corners of MacQuan’s eyes, Aaron sneered with a passionless expression.

“…You are far too emotional.”

It was similar to something his master had once told him.

Tears he couldn’t hold back flowed down his cheeks again, wetting Aaron’s face. Soft lips drew a picture across the entire face. Like that painting lost long ago, which had vanished without a trace.

“You always seemed like someone who was broken somewhere.”

The words that pierced through the low sobbing were also like the past. Though they didn’t explicitly say or ask, they naturally realized that someone’s memories had returned and the other knew of that fact.

There was no kind consolation telling him not to cry.

There was no criticism.

Simply in the heavy air, a hand that had been wandering awkwardly touched MacQuan’s waist cautiously. The expression looking down at that clumsy movement was distorted into a mess. This was the kind of person he was. You were always this kind of person. Someone who harbored tenderness even within coldness. Nevertheless, the foolish man blinded by desire had spent all his effort interpreting your intentions in the most vulgar way.

“My eyes were always drawn to you.”

What a foolish time that was.

“Even when I was MacQueen Lester…”

“…”

“Even when I was your Theodore.”

A hand made of smooth lines touched the tip of his chin. It was a languid and light movement. MacQuan followed the touch and lifted his head without difficulty. Their eyes met once more. Sky-blue jewels, which he would not trade for anything in the world, shone brightly.

“Stop it. I’m tired of those words now.”

The moment a tiny bit of pettiness seeped through that stubborn and arrogant expression, the dog lost his reason and lunged fiercely toward his lover. MacQuan knew that this expression was something the lover had only shown to the faithful dog who lived in Ramdiff Forest.

“Ah! Aaron. I can’t hold back any longer.”

“Ngh. Uh-huh…

“Aaron…”

With his lips pressed close to the lover’s ear, MacQuan whispered repeatedly in a voice stained with longing. Heat surged in his genitals again. Because he was straining so hard to avoid inserting and ejaculating immediately, the muscles leading from his buttocks to his thighs were visibly rigid.

“May I enter?”

“What… mmm…”

“Inside you… into you…”

The fierce man bit the earlobe, and his wet tongue repeatedly licked around the ear. May I enter? The wet, blunt glans touched the firmly closed entrance. Even as he pressed with more force, it would not open. At the agonizing sensation, MacQuan bit Aaron’s entire ear. Their bodies, perfectly overlapped and rubbing together, further heightened their mutual excitement.

“I want to put it in.”

“Ah…”

As he applied a bit more force, the relaxed body flinched. No matter how much time he had spent on foreplay, insertion attempted after several years could not be easy. In an instant, the entire body became drenched in sweat. MacQuan gripped the shaft of his member with one hand and repeatedly pressed the glans against the tightly closed inner walls.

“Ah-ngh…”

“Just a little more…”

“With your fingers… first… ngh… ngh…”

“I don’t want to… haa, Aaron…”

“Ah-ugh…”

Because he had attempted it several times, the area around the entrance had long been wet with semen. The hole, glistening under the light, could almost be called a genital itself.

“I want to put it in just as it is. Only with my member… I want to enter inside you.”

“No… it’ll tear… ah-ugh…”

The weak refusal was swallowed whole. The member, now exerting more force than before, pressed hard against the wet entrance. The entrance did not easily allow entry this time either. Still, it had opened wider than before, increasing the possibility. The inner wall, stretched round to the circumference of the glans, twitched.

“Your…”

“Ah, ah!”

“I want to go all the way inside you… and ravish you endlessly. I want to make a mess of your body. Huu… I want to stretch and break this place so that no one but me can ever enter.”

Primal desire reared its head. While he wanted to treat him with infinite care, on the other hand, he wanted to completely break him. Just like those times when he looked up at his lover in the chambers of Westminster Palace, wanting to burn away the gazes of admiration and longing directed toward the dignified man in the mourning clothes.

So that no one could look up to that shining person.

So that no one could harbor profane thoughts.

He wanted him to fall to where he was. He wanted to crave and possess him alone.

With another attempt, the rounded tip of the member touched the opened entrance again.

“I know… ngh, that this is a cruel heart…”

“Ah, ah…”

At the gesture of attempting entry again, Aaron opened his eyes wide and struggled. The body firmly positioned between the parted legs moved forward steadily toward its goal, unfazed by the other’s resistance.

“Just a little… huu. Just a little more…”

“It won’t open… it won’t… ugh, ugh-ngh…”

“Ah, Aaron!”

“Ah-uuugh.”

Aaron instinctively curled his back, putting more strength into the fingertips gripping MacQuan’s shoulders. The muscular body was as drenched in sweat as his own.

“More…”

“Ugh, ah—”

“Please open more.”

At the sensation of his body opening, Aaron let out a moan that stood between pain and pleasure. With a squelching sound, the glans repeatedly entered and exited just a tiny bit. As time passed, the firmly closed place gradually opened to fit the shape of the member.

“Huu…”

“Good…”

The member, which had entered with difficulty, slid back out. MacQuan moved down and kissed the thighs spread to the sides. Along the path down the extended muscles, he encountered another scar. It was a wound from an accident years ago. The injury, which had not received proper treatment at the right time, left a scar and aftereffects that would never be erased.

“Ah-ngh…”

MacQuan carefully licked the wound. It was a desperate struggle, praying for all the scars to disappear, even while knowing he couldn’t.

The area around the wound, where hideous marks remained, was replaced by red congestion. The hot tongue and lips explored the thighs, the wound, and the area around the genitals and pubic hair.

“Aaron…”

The lips, which had been circling the area for a while, moved further down. Swept in an immeasurable heat, Aaron opened his eyes slightly to observe the actions of the dog hovering beneath him. A satisfied smile lingered on his slightly upturned lips.

“Aaron, Aaron…”

Past the knees to the calves, and then to the slender ankles—like a believer fallen into artistic or religious awe, the filthy dog knelt and licked his master’s entire leg. He was truly a faithful beast.

“Come up.”

At the slow command, MacQuan licked the area around the ankle and malleolus densely while looking up. Even if he acted gentle and desperate, he was a fierce and despicable man inside. Aaron knew that those eyes only softened with relief when he was following his master.

An inexplicable sense of satisfaction and exhilaration surged. Aaron raised his upper body slightly and looked down at the beast licking his foot. The dark brown hair tended to look closer to black when drenched in sweat.

“…You really are acting like a dog. Do you have no shame?”

A long toe pushed against the angular cheek. The vicious merchant did not yield, gripping his master’s ankle and licking densely up to the hollow between the instep and the Achilles tendon. Hot lips swept over the wet skin. The sound of flesh being sucked became increasingly explicit.

“Ah…”

“Master…”

A body driven by clear intent slowly rose. The dog’s bare skin brushed against his legs. It touched his thighs, and as it rose a bit further, their chests met. The sweat-soaked body was not unpleasant. After the gradual insertions and foreplay, his completely relaxed body was now fully prepared for the act.

“Come up…”

“Haa…”

“Come up and…”

Rough palms swept down his sides. It was a sensation so intense it gave him chills.

“Come inside.”

“…….”

“Hurry.”

That was the end of the conversation.

The man became a ferocious beast and climbed atop his master’s body. Feeling the weight of the body pressing down on him, Aaron willingly spread his legs, granting a favor. Because the man failed to control his strength, the bites on Aaron’s neck and shoulder were deep and vivid. Even in that moment, the act of insertion did not stop.

“You clearly gave your permission. Are you listening?”

“Ugh…”

“Ah! Aaron! Ngh!”

The member touched the wet entrance once more. Aaron realized that the man would no longer hold back. Following a powerful force, the thickest part pressed against the opening of the inner wall.

“Agh!”

“Ngh…”

The force pressing in without regard for the situation was poised to pierce right through him. The large member entered between his buttocks, relentlessly carving a path through a body that had not been opened for a long time.

“Haa—!”

“Ah—! Ah! Stop, ah…”

Between the insertion stretching his insides and the shock of his body being completely opened, Aaron instinctively pushed against the intruder’s chest. Despite the violent rejection, MacQuan did not stop, ruthlessly pushing forward until his member was buried to the hilt inside the narrow hole. Pubic hair, slightly darker than the color of his hair, rubbed harshly against the entrance wet with pre-cum.

“Ah…”

Even that felt like an overwhelming stimulation. Aaron tilted his head back and exhaled hot breaths. Haa. Ha. As if gauging the size of the member that had entered completely, he blinked without moving for a moment. As he twisted his body with shallow breaths, a rough hand pinned one of Aaron’s shoulders down.

“Ngh…”

“It is completely inside.”

Remaining inserted, MacQuan slowly leaned down. Out-of-focus eyes shifted slightly toward the sound of the voice. MacQuan chuckled low, cupping Aaron’s cheeks and kissing him. The light contact was brief; soon, a hot tongue entered the slightly parted mouth, tangling and swirling violently.

“Nng…”

“Look…”

“Look at what, ah. Agh…”

“Look at where we are connected.”

Their touching foreheads were hot. Haa, hah. Rough breaths exchanged through lips parted by the grueling insertion. The shared body heat was searing. Aaron lowered his gaze to take in the point where their two bodies joined. The object of desire was obvious.

Aaron found the posture—stretched wide by the abnormal act—painful, yet the member splitting his body evoked a strange sense of euphoria. The scrotum slapped loudly against the cleft of his buttocks. With every violent thrust of the hips, the member did not hide its desire to push even the remaining parts inside. The member, stained with profanity, menacingly rubbed against the folds of the inner wall. The violent act felt closer to terror and fear.

“You might not be able to see it yourself, but…”

Kissing the corner of Aaron’s eyes, which were wet with physiological tears, MacQuan smiled with satisfaction.

“It’s completely open. Open to the limit… ngh…”

“You talk too much…”

“You’ve taken my entire member. Right here…”

“Ah, mm…”

MacQuan grabbed Aaron’s right ankle again and roughly hooked it over his shoulder. Through the gap created, he pushed his body in violently. The member, which had slipped out only slightly, slammed back inside. Along with a squelching sound, the semen already leaked during the insertion made a loud, wet noise.

“Agh…”

A scream rang out. Feeling a part of his body being completely pierced, Aaron repeatedly tilted his head back and gasped for air. His wide eyes were filled with sheer astonishment and shock.

“Breathe.”

“Ngh, mm…”

“That’s it, ngh!”

As his hips moved back, the member slid halfway out again. Just as his breathing was about to ease, the sound of flesh clashing violently returned, and his stomach was filled once more. The muscular body, with a brazenness that seemed to forget all the pleas he had desperately begged for, drove into the wound-ridden body.

“Haa, ah! Aah…”

“Huu.”

“Ngh, ngh… aah…”

“Aaron, ngh… ha…”

The insertions gained speed as more power was applied. Thwack, squelch, splat—the sound of membranes clashing, rubbing, and squelching echoed continuously. Bodies drenched in sweat and fluids were repeatedly rubbed into a mess. Aaron twisted his waist at the deep insertions until he eventually broke into spasms.

“Answer me… hm?”

MacQuan stretched both arms toward the headboard, interlocking his fingers and trapping his lover’s head within. His face, unable to move an inch, was forced to face forward. The dog he faced still had cheeks drenched in tears.

“Why… ah…”

“I want to… ngh… look at your face.”

“Ah… haa… ngh, mm…”

“Open… open your mouth.”

“Aah, huu… mm, mmm…”

Every time he thrust violently from below, the body holding the member jolted, unable to withstand the recoil. Because he was trapped within those arms, their lips collided every time his body shook. Even the slightest brush caused the man to smile with an utterly vulgar expression and kiss him deeply.

“Do not close your eyes.”

“Ah, haa… ah…”

“Show me your eyes. I want to see your eyes. Ngh, huu…”

The lean body swayed back and forth following the powerful movements. The area around the wide-open entrance turned bright red. The entrance and the perineum were a mess, smeared with constantly flowing semen.

The large member wanted to go even deeper, knowing no bounds. Ah, ah, aah. Moans unable to withstand the pleasure and beast-like panting mingled together.

“Slowly, agh, mm, wait a moment… ah…”

“I cannot. No more, no more… huu…”

The consideration of clenching his teeth to barely control the speed soon reached its limit. The body that endlessly wrapped around and sucked him in was enough to shatter his reason. The speed of the member digging into the hole became faster and rougher. As the insertions grew more violent, Aaron’s moans began to resemble screams.

“Ah-ng, ngh, ngh, ah…”

“Aaron… Aaron…”

“More… more… ah, aah!”

Though he shook his head in pain, his lean, firm waist swayed in pursuit of pleasure. Tears flowed from eyes flushed red. Knowing it was merely a physiological reaction to uncontrollable pleasure, MacQuan quickly leaned down and hurriedly licked up the tears his lover shed.

“Forgive me.”

The confusion over the inexplicable apology was brief. MacQuan grabbed both of Aaron’s thighs and tilted his body back. Before Aaron could be surprised by the posture—knees bent and body completely folded—the dark member, glistening with ejaculate, immediately slammed perpendicularly into the inner wall.

“Haa—!”

Before Aaron could recover from the shock of the unexpected insertion, the member slid back out to the glans. No sooner had he exhaled at the brief sense of liberation than it entered the inner wall all at once to the end.

“Ah, aah, hng, ah!”

“Forgive me…”

He begged for forgiveness, yet his face showed not a shred of guilt. The fully exposed private parts were scrutinized and violated by the vulgar dog. He would poke lightly and then suddenly plunge deep, or insert fully and shake violently until the pubic hair and testicles were crushed.

“Agh, ugh, ah, haa, ha!”

“Aaron, Aaron.”

“Ngh, ngh…”

“Open your eyes.”

The wide-open place would no longer close even after the member was completely removed. Looking at the glistening entrance that had widened exactly as much as he desired, the eyes of a predator who had captured its prey were filled with satiety.

MacQuan swallowed hard as he watched his master, who didn’t know what to do with his uncontrolled body. A terrible urge arose to tear him apart, lick and chew him, and devour him from head to toe to become one body.

He wanted to be one. As if they had been one from the start.

He wanted to merge the countless versions of himself in that person’s memory into one.

I want to tell you.

That all of them were me. The past, the present, and the future.

That all these acts—licking your entire body, inserting my member into you, hugging you, and kissing you—were relations performed with only one person.

“Aaron…”

“Hah, ngh…”

“Aaron, Aaron!”

As the bodies clashed as fast as the member entered and exited, the pale buttocks gradually swelled red. It was an excessively lewd sight.

MacQuan used his large hands to pull the red, swollen butt cheeks wide apart. Contrary to the thought that they had already reached their limit, the flexible hole created more space even while holding the member.

“It opens further…”

“Haa… ah…”

“Even while taking all of my member… more… more.”

An unbearable, violent impulse surged. A strange desire flickered in his heated eyes. Knowing the posture was already at its limit, he pushed his hands even deeper toward the inside of the other’s knees.

“I told you… to stop…”

“Ngh…”

Unable to bear the pain of his body being crumpled, Aaron finally slapped him, but the firm body did not budge. A silence filled only with panting flowed, but it was only for a moment.

“I am sorry… huu…”

“Hah… agh, ugh!”

“I cannot help it either.”

“Aaaagh…”

The member, which had slid out completely once more, immediately plunged deep into the inner wall. Due to the pressure and intensity of the body being crushed, ejaculate leaked from the tip of Aaron’s erect member.

“Stop, aagh, aah!”

“Hng…”

Holding the other perfectly, MacQuan pushed his body forward rapidly. The body, unable to withstand the rough insertions, screamed, and the fully erect, shaking member ejaculated on its own, spraying cloudy fluid across the belly and chest.

“Agh, ah— aah—!”

Overwhelmed by pleasure that made it hard to breathe, Aaron rubbed his head messily against the sheets. Ha-ak, hak—strained breaths escaped him continuously. Despite the ejaculation, there was no mercy in the madness-driven insertions crushing his body.

“Just a little… wait… hng…”

“No… no.”

“I’m ejaculating… go… go away. Ah, aah… stop it!”

He continued to drive into the still-ejaculating Aaron, repeatedly pulling the member out and slamming it back in. The semen on the entrance became more viscous with every friction, making a mess of the body.

“Hng, haa…”

“Ngh, huu…”

“Ugh, ngh, ngh!”

Pain no longer existed. Squelching sounds filled the eardrums. It was so hot that the skin and muscle cells felt as if they were burning. Senses were maximized, and the rapidly entering and exiting entrance repeatedly tightened and loosened by its own force.

Aaron barely managed to grab MacQuan’s arm, shivering and shuddering with his whole body. Due to the violent struggling, the sheets were pushed to one side and were on the verge of falling to the floor, but no one cared.

“It’s okay…”

“It’s strange… strange… ngh…”

“It’s nothing… huu, it’s okay…”

His stomach felt bloated. Aaron unconsciously cupped his lower abdomen with both hands.

His firm lower abdomen, devoid of fat, touched his palms. Though it was impossible, he had the illusion that a member might pop out.

“Aah, ah! Aah…”

“Hng… ah, damn it, Aaron, Aaron…”

Splat, squelch—both buttocks were already covered in semen. The perineum and the area around the hole were also a mess. The groin was stained with milky-white semen that had overflowed, unable to be fully contained.

“Hng… stop it, stop…”

“Aaron, damn it… it’s good… it’s too good.”

The hole that swallowed the member lost control and repeatedly tightened and loosened. There was no part of his senses that he could control. Unable to withstand the sensation of automatic contraction, MacQuan finally spat out a vulgar curse.

“Hng… agh… ah, aah, stop, stop it!”

“I’m sorry. Haa… I can’t hold back any longer.”

The intention to move slowly lasted only a moment; MacQuan immediately began to hammer his member fiercely into the wide-open hole. As the pleasure deepened, MacQuan felt his throat burning with an unknown thirst. More, more, more. An insatiable greed dominated his mind. Ejaculation was approaching.

“Ah, aah!”

Sensing the end, Aaron shuddered and shook his head from side to side. His slender legs lost strength and swayed under the rapidly driving movements.

“Nng, ngh, ngh…”

“Aaron, Aaron…”

The rough insertions, pounding and crushing, continued. Aaron was overcome by the fear that his body might be completely broken. In this moment, there was no part of him from head to toe that was not occupied by a member. The member, digging into the deepest, most secret place, knew no shame.

“Aaron… Aaron…”

Sensing the coming ejaculation, MacQuan hurriedly wrapped his arms around Aaron, pulling him in even deeper.

“Agh!”

Aaron also hurriedly hugged the sweat-drenched dog. The two perfectly bound bodies curved into a circle. Pursuing the unbearable pleasure, MacQuan hurriedly thrust his hips up. The fully erect member relentlessly carved through the white buttocks, entering endlessly, endlessly. Aagh, aah— out-of-focus eyes wavered. The excessive pleasure and perfect sense of union stripped away all reason.

“Hng, ugh, nng…”

“Ngh…”

“Ah! Ah, hng!”

MacQuan used the arms wrapped around the back to grab and spread the flesh of his lover’s buttocks. Following this, the inner hole opened easily. He repeatedly gathered and spread the flesh in time with the member inserting and withdrawing. His broad back was drenched in sweat from the long lovemaking.

“Aagh… aah!”

“Huu, haa…”

It was a pleasure that resembled pain. Strength naturally flowed into the connected area. Aaron swallowed hot breaths over and over. The body consumed by pleasure was no longer his own. It was a truly powerless experience. Their lips met again. Membranes rubbed, and the inner wall, having lost its function due to the rough and prolonged insertion, remained wide open.

“Aaron…”

“Haa, ah…”

“Look at me, Aaron… please look at me…”

A voice elevated by satisfaction called Aaron again. When he didn’t respond, the man repeatedly kissed him and inserted himself roughly, urging an answer.

“Ngh…”

Within his fading consciousness, Aaron opened his eyes slightly to take in the dog stained with lust. Even while being consumed by pleasure, that fervent gaze was directed solely at Aaron.

“It really is you.”

“……Stop it.”

“It really is… you… it’s correct. Isn’t it…”

Dark green irises glistened with desire. They were strange eyes where cruelty and obedience coexisted. MacQuan was trembling with ecstasy, yet he was weeping silently. His tightly closed lips trembled.

“……Yes.”

Aaron cupped MacQuan’s cheek with a trembling hand. The reason the area touched by tears felt painful might have been due to a newly formed wound. Though flustered by the unexpected touch, MacQuan did not stop the insertion.

“Aaron…”

“Agh, ugh…”

“Kiss me.”

Following the direction of the touch, MacQuan lowered his head again and kissed Aaron deeply. Feverish breaths were exchanged.

“……Please kiss me.”

“Aah…”

A moan that had reached its limit was buried in the kiss. Strength returned to the hands gripping the buttocks. MacQuan began to shake his body at a speed incomparable to before, going full throttle.

“Mmm, mm… mm!”

“Does it feel good? Haa, hah…”

The feeling of being pierced even evoked fear. Aaron urgently tried to lower his legs, but it was impossible to escape the body entwining him.

“Aah, ah!”

The body, sensing the end, moved violently. Feverish breaths leaked through the gaps. Every time the flesh clashed harshly, the already ejaculated fluid splashed.

“Hng, ugh…”

The surface of the member, repeating the insertion, was bumpy with veins and glistening with semen. Every time it was violently thrust and rubbed, a jolting sensation shot up from the bottom to the top of his spine. It was another climax.

Hugging the shivering Aaron, who could not withstand the pleasure, MacQuan began to drive his fully erect member in again.

“Agh, ak! Ah! Aah!”

“Aaron, Aaron, aah, my Aaron, Aaron…”

“Ah! Aah! Theo, Theo… ah!”

“Aaron… yes, I am…”

His mind went white. His vision flashed, and his consciousness grew hazy. It was a sensation he had never felt in the countless relations they had had.

“Agh, ah…”

“I am your, I… damn it, aah, damn it…”

“……!”

Aaron unconsciously hugged the firm, sweat-drenched body. The member, recognizing the end, entered his body without consideration. Following the rough movements, the area below his waist swayed haphazardly.

“Haa…”

Ah, ah—the moans were so high and ragged they could have been mistaken for screams. Aaron tightened his muscles around the member that had split him open. MacQueen inserted his fully erect cock to the very hilt. He withdrew it completely, then began to thrust rapidly. A hot flame ravaged Aaron’s mind.

“Ah! Ahh!”

“Aaron, ngh…”

“Haa…”

Before long, the ejaculate poured into the inner walls, filling every gap.

It was a release.

Aaron trembled all over, absorbing the shock of the climax. His eyes, still dazed by the impact, stared blankly at the ceiling. His legs, stripped of all strength, lay wide open and convulsing.

“Nng…”

“Haa…”

Their two bodies, drenched in sweat, were locked together perfectly without a sliver of space. Even after the release, their panting breaths refused to settle for a long time.

“Come here.”

“Ugh…”

With a look that suggested he had no intention of letting his lover go, MacQueen embraced the body soiled with all manner of fluids without hesitation. In contrast, Aaron’s expression was peaceful. He felt the other man’s chest against his back, and the heartbeat hidden within beat at a steady pace.

Hands still holding the heat reached for Aaron’s sweat-beaded forehead, the curve of his ear, and his chest. Gently pushing away the man enjoying the afterglow, Aaron pushed himself up.

“I want to wash.”

“Just a little longer…”

“…Stop it. Mm…”

A hand sliding from his flank up to his chest groped him with clear intent. Even as he opened his mouth to the relentlessly colliding lips, Aaron furrowed his brows in distress. A thick tongue swept through his mouth at will.

MacQueen had no intention of hiding the fact that “just a little longer” was a lie. His slowly leaning body soon pressed close, refusing to detach. Faced with gestures that felt almost desperate, Aaron reached back and pushed MacQueen away.

“Stop it…”

“I refuse.”

The kisses descending upon his nape and shoulders were soft and cautious. Between legs wet with semen, the re-erected member repeated its insertion. Whenever MacQueen stabbed into the half-open inner walls as if by mistake, Aaron grew furious, but MacQueen did not stop.

“For us…”

“Ah…”

One leg was lifted onto MacQueen’s arm. It was a signal to open his body for pleasure. Any attempt to escape was blocked by a hand pulling his waist back.

“I hope there is a next time.”

“….”

“I hope this wasn’t just for today…”

The body that inhaled sharply stiffened visibly. Knowing the meaning behind those words, MacQueen buried his face, sunken with anxiety and melancholy, into Aaron’s shoulder. Hot tears flowed again, warming his master’s body. The greedy, shameless beast knew no moderation. It was a time of long distortion and neglect. Emotions forced inside could not be resolved in a single night. Tonight might have been nothing more than a whim of his master.

“It’s just an extension of meaningless time.”

Lying on his side, Aaron whispered softly.

“That time has ended.”

The lush greenery rustled softly. Eyes recalling a cabin hidden deep in the forest grew wet with longing. Because it had been such a short time, it was, ironically, a memory he could not forget for a long time.

“That is not true.”

“It’s already over.”

Sweat-soaked platinum blonde hair was messily disheveled. The air, where pleasure had not yet settled, was neither hot nor cold.

“It is not.”

There was only denial. Repeating the same words like a machine, MacQueen kissed his lover’s long neck. Following the path downward, he carved marks upon the white skin that felt almost transparent.

“Did I not tell you? I was a greedy man by nature.”

“….”

“If I weren’t, I wouldn’t have been able to survive until now.”

Dark eyes glinted. The exhausted body was easily pulled into his embrace with only a slight application of force.

He could not return to the past. He had not lost his memories again. His identity as MacQueen Lester, the opium merchant of Galloway, was clear. Even if he regained his memories of the Lamdiff days, the sins and wrongs he committed did not vanish. The punishment had to last forever.

“I know it cannot be undone.”

“Ugh…”

The blunt member pushed its head back into the open hole. Because it had been stretched and raked through until moments ago, it entered to the end without difficulty. The body convulsed, unable to withstand the shock of the insertion, but MacQueen, hiding no greed, pushed his cock deeper and deeper. Aaron reached out and cupped the wet cheek. The man tilted his head toward the hand. The palm was damp.

“Forgive me for not being able to sacrifice myself for you.”

“Hng…”

“I will not leave.”

“Ah, mm…”

“Never…”

MacQueen pulled Aaron into a tight embrace. A fumbling palm stroked the area of the heart. A slow but distinct beat was transmitted through the skin. Unable to contain his overwhelming emotion, MacQueen kissed him roughly again. Composure had long since vanished.

He is alive.

The man who was his only lover and master was by his side, not at sea, not on a warship, nor on some nameless foreign island. He would no longer let anyone seize and shake his life, nor would he ever send him to a lonely and dangerous place again. That resolve alone was the truth.

“If you hate me being by your side…”

“….”

“Then kill me.”

The body that had been moving slightly stopped completely. Their bodies remained connected. Kissing every visible part, MacQueen whispered low.

“You may shoot my heart and head with your pistol.”

“….”

“As many times as it takes until a perfect death arrives.”

“….”

“I will gladly accept it.”

“Ah…”

The half-withdrawn member slammed back in to the end. Despite being sufficiently wet, Aaron frowned at the searing pain and rubbed his forehead against MacQueen’s arm.

“Ugh, kill me…”

“Ah… stop…”

“Burn me… whew…”

It withdrew completely once more. The inner walls, which had been filled with the member until just now, gaped with longing, waiting for insertion. A satisfied smile lingered on the thick lips. This body was for him. A body that belonged to him and to which he belonged. A physical existence.

“Cut me out…”

“Ahh…”

“Even if you erase me from your world, I will gladly accept it.”

As only the thickest part entered, it opened in a circle to match the shape. He pulled back slightly and rubbed the ridges of the inner wall with the glans, still coated in ejaculate. The long, white legs twitched as if convulsing.

“Ah, hng…”

“Aaron…”

“This kind of thing…”

The stifled, aching moans were lovely. Fearing his lover might slip from his embrace, MacQueen hugged him tighter, his eyes shining with madness.

“But as long as I am alive, that is impossible.”

You cannot leave me. I cannot tolerate anyone else being by your side. Because I am a greedy, covetous, dirty, and hideous man. Because I feel no shame even for such desires.

“Stop it… ah, ahh—!”

“Aaron, Aaron…”

An overflowing joy descended. Even as his lover wailed and struggled, unable to endure the violent insertions, MacQueen did not stop his rough actions. He forced the body open, inserting his member ferociously, licking and sucking every open hole. Upon that noble body, which no one else dared touch, he freely painted and decorated his own filth. It was truly, truly satisfying…

“Please do not cast me away.”

Time stopped. Consequently, all movement ceased. Do not cast me away. Do not leave me. Please allow me. It was a plea and a request that sounded like a command. Even amidst this, the speed of insertion grew faster.

“Agh…”

Biting his lower lip hard, Aaron tilted his head back. The member ravaging his insides and the accompanying pleasure were closer to violence.

Please do not cast me away.

The desperate voice whispered again. Sweatdrops fell along his blinking eyelashes. Even amidst the surging pleasure, the gaze looking at the ceiling was calm.

It was a night to be willingly drowned in flooding emotions.

✧ ✧ ✧

When he opened his eyes again, it was the dawn before daybreak. A blue hue settled over his cheeks. He blinked his infinitely heavy eyelids slowly. His entire body felt languid because the drowsiness had not fully vanished.

In the room where the sun had not yet fully risen, the remaining darkness lingered. The interior of the quiet bedroom felt chilly. As the surrounding scenery gradually came into view through eyes accustomed to the dark, Aaron pushed himself up, leaving a heavy headache behind.

“….”

His body, overworked throughout the night, screamed at the slightest movement. Aaron frowned low and scanned his surroundings again.

The one who had been clingy to a tedious degree, ravaging his body at will until he lost consciousness, was nowhere to be seen. The cold sheets indicated that a considerable amount of time had passed since he had left. As that thought reached him, his face distorted with instinctive displeasure.

“Ugh…”

As he stepped onto the floor to get out of bed, the pain became more vivid. Feeling a throbbing sensation deep inside, Aaron silently brought his hand to his private area. The feeling of being slightly swollen and not fully closed was stark.

It seemed he had been tended to while asleep; his body, soiled with fluids and semen, had been wiped clean, and he was dressed in new clothes. Compared to the past, the quality of the service was not so bad.

Does he truly believe he has become a servant?

A hollow laugh played on his tightly closed lips. There was no warmth in his downward gaze. The memories of the night crashed over him. Indescribable emotions repeatedly damaged the fleeting wish to live a peaceful life.

Leaving his heavy, sinking body behind, Aaron walked slowly. Part of it was due to the rough acts, but he had already been drenched in rain before that, so his physical condition was poor in many ways. At this rate, it was obvious that working for a few days would be impossible. Even as he opened the door and descended the stairs, complex thoughts did not leave his mind. His steps were extremely slow and heavy.

Tap, tap, tap…

“….”

At the rhythmic sound, his steps toward the lower floor stopped. Aaron gripped the railing and turned his gaze toward where the sound had come from.

The place illuminated by a faint light was the dining room.

Aaron stared blankly at the dining room. The sound of a knife cutting vegetables, the sound of stew boiling, the sound of dishes being moved, quiet footsteps, the heat and smell of cooked food.

Various senses were mixed together.

“….”

His frozen body moved again.

Passing through the long lobby and turning the corner, a fully open space revealed itself. Unlike typical Country Houses, the manor in Yorkshire had short routes and a complex structure. It was a manor he had provided separately for the purpose of working alone and living quietly, but now every interior detail caught his eye anew.

As he drew closer, the sensations became clearer. Unlike the bedroom where the dawn air remained, this place was a bit brighter and a bit warmer. It was an atmosphere he had not been accustomed to in his entire life.

Venturing further in, he saw a bustling figure from behind.

Aaron leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the scene. The man was baking something, boiling something, and cutting something. Every movement was clumsy, and the results coming from his hands did not look particularly grand.

“….”

Perhaps because he had not yet sensed a presence, the busy movements did not stop. An old memory surfaced. A memory from a time when both were slightly younger and more immature than they were now. Even then, food was always ready whenever he left the studio, so he had never seen the process of making it. Just as he was becoming bored of observing, the man turned around.

“…Aaron.”

Startled, MacQueen stopped his movements and approached with long, brisk strides. As the distance closed, a shadow cast over Aaron’s face, proportional to the difference in their heights.

“….”

Aaron slowly tilted his head back to meet the man’s eyes. It was not simply the act of making eye contact, but a confrontation with the past they had both ignored. Eyes that did not even think to hide their overflowing emotions were directed solely toward one person. They were eyes harboring memories that had all turned to ash.

“When did you wake up?”

“…Just now.”

“You should have called me. Your body is…”

The hand that tried to reach out hesitated in mid-air. He seemed to be debating whether he needed to ask for permission. When Aaron gave a small smirk and tilted his chin, only then did MacQueen, with a relieved look, carefully grasp Aaron’s arm.

“Your condition is…”

He stepped one pace closer. His other hand hesitated for a moment before carefully cupping one of Aaron’s cheeks.

“Are you alright?”

MacQueen whispered quietly, swallowing the urge to embrace him right then and there. Aaron did not reject or push the hand away, simply nodding his head.

“Passable.”

“In the early hours… you suffered a bit. You had a fever.”

“Who did?”

“Not me.”

Shrugging his shoulders, MacQueen forced a smile. With an awkward touch, he carefully brushed away the platinum blonde hair scattered across the forehead. The delicate features were fully revealed.

The happiness brought by such a desperate, dream-like act did not last long.

A cruel and harsh god would not forgive him so easily. As dawn broke, his lover had writhed in agony. It was a sight he hadn’t known because he had only secretly visited while the other slept over the past few years.

Throughout the dawn, MacQueen had to cling to his lover, who convulsed in nightmares, and face the sins of the past. What soaked the lover’s scar-filled body was not fluids mixed with passion, but cold sweat from enduring pain. The remnants of opium were still damaging his lover’s body and mind even after a decade. That fact choked MacQueen and tore at his heart. It was a tragedy that had all happened because of him.

“You were in a lot of pain.”

“….”

“Has it always been like this?”

No answer returned, but he knew it was a silence containing affirmation. Knowing that calling a doctor would not solve the issue, all MacQueen could do was massage the stiff limbs and wipe the body clean. It was also a process of realizing his own helplessness.

“That’s not a very important thing.”

The words spoken so nonchalantly hurt. It was a phrase only someone for whom pain had become a daily routine could say. In the past, too, the lover had said the same even when covered in blood from violence. That it was nothing, that it wasn’t important.

Self-loathing and guilt swallowed MacQueen’s heart. The euphoria of having spent a desperate night had long since vanished without a trace. Despite displaying a twisted possessiveness, he was powerless in the face of the pain his lover had to endure. His eyes reddened, but MacQueen used all his strength to ensure his fragile heart did not show on the outside.

“Probably for a lifetime…”

A thumb moved along the line of the eyebrow. Despite the touch being utterly irreverent, the master permitted his audacity. The more the lover accepted him, the more MacQueen’s anxiety grew.

“For a lifetime…”

It will be a pain that follows you for a lifetime. It is a hell I personally bestowed.

MacQueen swallowed the final words, unable to bring himself to say them. A deep sense of melancholy and despondency cast over his sharply defined face. A tedious silence passed where no words were exchanged. His gaze, scanning the interior of the dining room, landed on the table.

“What’s that?”

At the short question, MacQueen smiled with a face full of dismay and pretended to stroke his chin to hide his expression.

“Breakfast. Something simple.”

“…Hmm.”

It was an ambiguous reaction.

“Your business skills might be fine, but…”

After a while, Aaron spoke in a calm voice. MacQueen slowly turned his eyes toward him. As always, the lover’s expression was difficult to read.

“Your cooking skills are terrible.”

At the blunt words, MacQueen finally let out a faint laugh. He agreed.

“…You haven’t even tasted it yet.”

“It was a mess back then, too. I can tell without eating it.”

“I remember you ate it well back then.”

“Because you were annoying until I did.”

“I will put in more effort.”

A hand full of thin, thread-like scars reached up. With a touch that lacked much strength, Aaron moved the hand that had cupped his cheek away.

“Stop it. I don’t particularly want to eat food you’ve made.”

“Aaron…”

The thought of stubbornly insisting he would not leave no matter how much he was pushed away vanished at the following words.

“Hire at least one servant who knows how to cook.”

“….”

“Because I don’t have the hobby of forcing myself to eat terrible food.”

A long glance shifted back to the dishes containing food. The crudeness was no different now than it was in the past. He was a man who lacked talent in this area from the start. Unlike Aaron, who was calmly thinking of a hiring plan, MacQueen could say nothing and only looked at his lover.

“Are you permitting me?”

Only a raspy voice escaped from his parched throat. MacQueen had tried countless times not to harbor expectations or hope in this relationship. Thus, hope was an emotion that ever felt alien to him. The corners of his mouth trembled as he pretended to be composed. He was thirsty.

“Is this… permission for me to stay here?”

He lowered his head slightly, softly brushing the tip of his nose against his lover’s bridge.

“If you want me to leave, you might as well just kill me. What am I supposed to do?”

Aaron let out a low snort, amused by the voice that was so palpably tense. There was no warmth to be found anywhere in the gaze they shared.

“…I have no hobby of killing people.”

He could feel every single one of the other’s ragged breaths. Soft, supple lips repeatedly brushed and parted, following the rhythm of their breathing.

“MacQueen Lester.”

Taking advantage of a brief moment when they pulled apart, Aaron spoke. The tingling air vanished, replaced by a chilling atmosphere. Upon hearing his name, MacQueen’s expression instantly crumbled into despair. Aaron silently observed the reactions shifting by the second. His eyes were full of pessimism.

To be so swayed by futile emotions; he was as weak and foolish now as he had been then.

After a silence, Aaron continued calmly.

“My dog is dead.”

The thought that had repeated endlessly throughout their intimacy—and perhaps even before—finally took shape in Aaron’s mind. It was a conclusion reached only after the tedious, grueling process of denying, admitting, doubting, and accepting once more.

“You can never be the dog I had back then.”

From the moment we reunited until now, you have never been my dog. My foolish, lingering dog died the moment he bled out, struck by a statue I had carved with my own hands. Even knowing that, I simply couldn’t acknowledge the death and had dragged it out until now.

“Aaron…”

The voice was devoid of the heat from the previous night. The grip on Aaron’s arm tightened.

“Therefore, this kind of play is unnecessary.”

With a faint smile and a complex, subtle expression, Aaron tilted his chin up slightly. He pointed toward the food the man had prepared, having woken up since dawn. In the past, it was an action the dog, who had lost his memories, performed every single day without fail. Whether that act was due to recovered memories or a current impulse, Aaron no longer wished to predict or judge.

“Stop imitating him. Whether you have found your memories or not is of no importance to me.”

His steady gaze looked straight ahead.

“…What do you mean?”

MacQueen knew those eyes well. He knew that expression. It was the look he wore when he had cast off all shackles and burdens, leaving him behind to depart alone. Despite his efforts to remain calm, his heart, racing involuntarily, would not settle. Even amidst the pitch-black despair, MacQueen waited quietly for the words to follow.

“If you insist on staying here, I won’t stop you. However.”

Reason, captured by a past that had become a phantom, could never make a rational judgment.

“If you wish to stay, you must not forget that you must live as a being other than the dog I raised.”

“Aaron.”

“Stop this ridiculous act of playing the servant.”

“…What are you talking about?”

MacQueen asked back, frowning. The speaker’s expression, however, looked relieved, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Suppressing the turmoil in his chest, MacQueen opened his stiff lips.

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

An uncontrollable tremor leaked into his voice. Aaron chuckled and pried the hand off his arm. MacQueen’s expression distorted once more, interpreting the action as a rejection.

“Exactly as I said.”

Without further reply, Aaron looked up slightly. He met eyes filled with chaos. He knew the man was trembling with anxiety.

His kindness ended here.

Without hesitation, Aaron turned around and headed back toward the entrance. MacQueen, who had been blankly chewing over the words, realized his lover’s absence too late and chased after him with hurried steps.

“Aaron.”

“…”

“Aaron, wait. Aaron!”

The desperate calls gradually faded. In a space detached from reality, Aaron closed his eyes and focused on the sensations of the present. A clump of tangled emotions wavered in his chest, unable to find a path.

Aaron Wizfeldon had always wondered.

What was the identity of that tenacious emotion that had followed him for so long, and toward whom was it directed? Was it perhaps a longing for that loyal dog who had waited for him in the isolated forest?

He could not deny that the fever he was swept into after their reunion was an emotion based on those memories. However, if asked whether the existence of that vulgar merchant had played no part in the time he allowed himself to open his body and endure pain again, it was simply difficult to give an easy answer. It was merely because of a certain foolish, lingering being who had remained by his side until the end, even while trapped in an isolated castle with a festering body and soul.

Perhaps.

Perhaps I…

Creeak—

Aaron walked to the entrance and opened the firmly closed door. The cold dawn air greeted him. The sky was entirely orange, as if dawn were about to break. The greenery, grown lush from several days of rain, emitted a fresh scent.

“The rain has stopped.”

“Aaron, what you said a moment ago…”

“The weather will likely be nice today.”

Looking at the distant sky, Aaron murmured indifferently. MacQueen, who had approached his side, was still waiting for an answer with a confused expression.

“I’ll have to go out this afternoon.”

“Where are you going?”

“I wonder.”

“…Will you come back?”

Questions born of uncontrollable anxiety continued. An enigmatic smile played on Aaron’s lips.

“I wonder.”

Giving a short answer, he half-turned his body. In his sight was a barbaric man who looked ready to seize him and drag him back to the bedroom to tie him up at any moment. Such an insolent gaze was truly absurd. Though he acted pitiful and docile, Aaron was well aware that the core of this man was greed and desire.

As he chuckled, the sun rose higher in the sky. The sun shining on the man made his hair appear a burning red. The old memories, unable to let go of their lingering attachments until the end, followed him.

“Master.”

“…Master.”

Aaron recalled the dog in the cabin—everything about him was clumsy, smiling brightly as he welcomed Aaron’s return. It was a past he could never return to, a memory completely lost. It was a book whose pages had all been torn out by a demon’s hand, a painting that had been ripped and burned.

The foolish man had perished along with the burning cabin.

That burning red would be a color he longed for eternally.

To me.

Forever.

Forever.

“Aaron… why…”

A bewildered voice interrupted his reverie. Turning his head, he saw the man wearing a subtle expression. The man, flustered and anxious that he might leave, was neither the Theodore of the cabin nor the MacQueen Lester of Gareway, but someone existing somewhere in between.

Without realizing it, Aaron looked at MacQueen with moist eyes and smiled quietly.

“My real name is…”

“…Lester.”

The dawn breeze carried the low, quiet whisper.

The moment he heard that magical name created by the calm voice and syllables, the man who had once been the most notorious and vicious merchant in England stopped breathing for a moment and bowed his head. Soon, a large hand covered his eyes. It was fine if the emotions contained in the ensuing sobs were not only sadness.