Chimera of Batius - Chapter 4

As the period of seclusion approached, the knights and soldiers had more free time than usual. This was because preparation for the seclusion was considered a priority over training.

Today, with training impossible due to the freezing weather, some knights, unsure what to do with their boredom, were gathered in the order’s main hall.

“Hey, Hein, go round up a few members of the theater troupe. We’re dying of boredom.”

Hein yawned and shrugged.

“Trying to use me as a shield? You’ll tell the commander it was my idea.”

“We’re not that disloyal.”

“Yeah, Hein. We can’t train and we’re bored stiff. How else are we supposed to beat this boredom? We’re northerners. With a theater company right here in the castle, it’d be stupid not to take advantage.”

“Did you forget patience is a knight’s virtue?”

Hein leaned against the window and smiled. One of the knights stepped closer.

“Of course. But refusing to enjoy yourself is no virtue for a northerner.”

The knight glanced out the window. The actors’ lodging wasn’t far from the order’s building. By chance, several performers were heading back to their quarters. A knight opened the window and whistled. The actors looked up. Mason shoved Hein aside and took the lead.

“Hey, isn’t that the dancer Lord Dexler brought?”

Hein, who’d been staring into space, focused on a figure. Where Mason pointed stood Cheil, wrapped in a white coat over a red dress. Those reddish lips, dark skin, striking features, and yellow eyes were unmistakable; the same he’d seen at the banquet.

“Lucky us.”

Mason licked his lips and waved Cheil and the other actors over. The men hesitated, then approached. Cheil followed.

“Did you call us?”

“Where are you headed?”

“Back to our lodging.”

“Perfect. Come on in.”

From the window, Mason gestured inside. He pulled a small pouch from his pocket and jingled it; the unmistakable clink of valuable jewels. The troupe’s faces lit up.

“I’ll give you the glorious chance to entertain some bored knights.”

Besides performances, these small side earnings in the city filled the actors’ pockets. For low-born folk who couldn’t resist coin, it was a golden opportunity. The troupe hurried toward the entrance. At the tail of the crowd, Cheil followed slowly.

“Hey, Cheil. Since they’re knights, they’ll probably drop a fat purse for one night, right?”

A musician sidled up and whispered hopefully.

“Well, that depends on you.”

Rich merchants flaunted money to show off, so getting coin from them was easy. Nobles and high-ranking knights, however, prized honor. Without stroking their egos and satisfying hidden desires, prying money loose was tricky; they were demanding. But if you managed it, the reward could be far greater. In other words, it took skill and cunning. Would a money-hungry troupe grasp that delicate art?

And not just the troupe, most of the company were blinded by easy coin and saw nothing else. They didn’t even know how to manipulate others. It was sad, really.

Inside the knights’ order building, a gentle warmth filled the air. Mason, eyes on Cheil, stepped closer.

“What’s your name?”

Cheil slipped off his cloak and smiled.

“I’m Cheil.”

The reception room held a large table and sofa, also used as a knights’ lounge. Mason sat on the sofa and patted the seat beside him.

“Cheil, sit with me today.”

A sharp scent clung to Mason, the pheromones of an alpha eager to touch Cheil. Despite the unpleasant smell, Cheil’s expression stayed calm. Hein produced a bottle of red wine from behind the sofa and grinned.

“Did you notice that dancer from the very beginning?”

Mason didn’t answer; he only lifted one corner of his mouth and swept his gaze over Cheil’s body from head to toe.

“By the way, as I told you before, I think your face would look even more beautiful if you took off your clothes.”

Mason slipped a ring from his middle finger and held it out.

“How about this? A treasure in exchange for one piece of clothing.”

“How generous!”

The gentlemen around them began to whistle. The theater company members looked at Cheil with envy. Yet Cheil only stared down at the ring. The bright green emerald reminded him of someone. What Cheil wanted wasn’t a mere ring. He wanted someone more precious and beautiful, someone with a pure body. Nothing could surpass the pleasure of staining that purity. Mason waved the ring in front of Cheil as if offering it. His long lashes fluttered, then curved. Cheil brushed Mason’s hand with his index finger.

“If I undress… how will you manage to wake up tomorrow?”

His whispered words dissolved into the air. Mason, not understanding the meaning, raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

Cheil’s gaze slid to Mason’s waist. There hung a pocket watch adorned with elaborate details. It was an object that instantly displayed status and wealth, something he couldn’t easily give to a mere dancer. Without hesitation, Cheil pointed at the watch.

“I’d only consider the offer if you gave me the watch.”

Mason glanced down at his waist and let out a small, ironic laugh.

“Of course, like every high-level courtier, your expectations are high. Unfortunately, I can’t give you this. It’s a family heirloom.”

Despite his words, he pulled out the pocket watch and showed it off ostentatiously. Cheil feigned disappointment and sat beside Mason. He crossed his long legs and rested his head against the sofa. Over his shoulders was only a thin cloth. Yet his shoulders were broader than Mason’s, despite all the finery. Cheil reached out and took the wine bottle.

“The ring is fine. How about a bored artist and a bored gentleman spend some time together?”

With a relaxed smile, Cheil lifted the bottle. Mason smiled, satisfied, and tucked the ring away.

“Looks like tonight will be very entertaining. Stay by my side the whole time.”

Satisfaction already shone on Mason’s face as he extended a glass. Cheil only smiled and drank from the bottle. His yellow eyes fixed on the red liquid filling the glass. But in truth, Cheil was watching the pocket watch reflected in the wine.

***

Gradually, the knights gathered around Cheil. With their armor unbuckled, they lay scattered, unable to hold themselves up. They looked like petals of a flower spread wide around a stamen. Cheil sat among them, watching each one fall to drink.

Though it was deep night, the knights’ order hall was lit like day. As the drunken “flowers” sprawled, senseless laughter spread through the gloomy room. Everyone except Cheil had lost control.

“You said your name is Cheil… How about you stop wandering and settle in Heinsley?”

Mason staggered closer, eyes half-closed. Cheil brushed him aside as if dusting off dirt. Mason’s body lurched and crashed onto the sofa. Cheil rested his chin on the sofa arm and let out a mocking little laugh.

“If you prove the usefulness of that ass to me, I might consider it.”

But instead of an answer, only a snore came. In the blink of an eye, all the knights except Cheil were unconscious.

Bored, so very bored. Maybe if I stripped one of them… would I feel better?

However, he hadn’t been holding out all this time just to drill a common, ordinary ass. The reason he endured this boredom was only for Ruzerolt.

He could see Ruzerolt’s office in the distance through the window.

Endure it, and endure it a little longer.

How long had he spent staring at the window with the light on? The office light went out. Shortly after, he saw a man in a blue cloak leave the building. The unusual atmosphere among the knights had apparently reached Ruzerolt’s attention. The butterfly called Ruzerolt was finally flying toward him across the white path.

He could almost hear the crunch of snow under his feet. Cheil changed his expression and movements to those of a solemn dancer.

Crack, crack.

A pleasant sound was approaching.

Crack!

The door, previously closed, opened and Ruzerolt, wrapped in icy cold, entered. Cheil leaned back against the sofa backrest. Blinking with his eyes slightly closed, he quickly glanced at the entrance. Ruzerolt, standing in the doorway, seemed to be wearing all of winter on his shoulders. He scanned the interior of the vestibule with a sharp look and covered his nose with the back of his hand. His eyes fixed on Cheil.

“…This… makes no sense.”

Even at that distance, his disapproval could be felt. Ruzerolt’s well-defined eyebrows furrowed. If a winter conifer were shaken by a blow, would it have that same expression?

He imagined violently shaking Ruzerolt’s body, as if striking a tree.

He visualized that straight body, legs spread open and beneath him. If he drove himself inside and shook it, wouldn’t tears spill like snowflakes falling with each movement?

The image of that disheveled white body made him feel an overwhelming thirst. What kind of moans would he hear? How warm would the skin hidden under that thick armor be, the inner wall that would swallow his member?

Heat began to accumulate in the lower part of his abdomen. His p3nis, increasingly heavy, began to swell, pushing the thin fabric upward.

“Haa…”

Cheil exhaled a soft sigh while swallowing saliva. His eyes, which had been cloudy, now focused on a point, as if he had found his prey.

He saw how Ruzerolt, who had taken a step toward him, stepped back. After staying for a while, he finally turned around. As he left, he carried an even heavier shadow on his shoulders than when he entered. Even that made Cheil’s heart beat faster.

He was anxious.

He was very anxious for the day when he would devour that body.

***

The closing date was approaching and the new training field was being arranged in a hurry. Ruzerolt, who had come to take a look, walked around the large grounds, calculating the winter schedule. In his field of vision, while walking, appeared a patch of frozen ground.

I told them to clean everything well.

Ice could cause serious injuries during training. Ruzerolt thrust his sword into the ice. With a crack, the ice shattered. The sound of the fracture was similar to that of a waterfall.

“Captain, you’ve come!”

A soldier who was arranging the grounds noticed Ruzerolt and ran toward him.

“Make sure to clean everything without leaving any corner.”

“Yes!”

Ruzerolt looked up toward his office, which was far above the knights’ building’s lower floors. Then he looked back at the ice. Apparently, the spot where the dancer had been doused with water earlier was right there.

He sheathed his sword and fastened it at his waist. On a day this cold…

Were they really harassing him? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t recall the dancer’s expression at that moment.

The dancer possessed everything Ruzerolt distrusted: pleasure, amusement, and provocation. He remembered the times they had crossed paths: at the head table of the banquet hall and yesterday, in the knights’ quarters.

Cheil, the dancer, had been surrounded by knights late into the night, even yesterday. He was always where every eye was fixed on him. Was that why he was the target of envy and jealousy?

But even so, being doused with icy water in this cold was excessive.

“…Definitely, this can’t be good.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

If someone stood out in a crowd, it was inevitable they’d draw excessive attention and interference. No one knew that better than Ruzerolt. And if you added a low social standing… it wasn’t far-fetched that he’d be harassed.

Suddenly, he remembered his own childhood. He saw his past reflected in Cheil’s situation, even though the dancer had a completely different social position, background, and living environment.

Ruzerolt squeezed his eyes shut and shook off the thoughts. Comparing himself to a mere dancer!

“Hans! Make sure to report the training field’s readiness status to me before the day ends.”

“Yes, Captain!”

Ruzerolt turned toward his office, crunching the broken ice beneath his boots.

The captain’s office was inside the knights’ order building. As soon as he stepped in, the stench of rotting fish from the night before filled the air, a mix of several alphas’ rut pheromones. Ruzerolt forced himself to keep a neutral expression and headed for his office. But he heard a loud voice from the parlor just off the foyer.

“No one but you would do something like this!”

“I really didn’t steal it!”

“Then who else coveted my pocket watch last night?”

“How could I dare to covet something that isn’t mine?”

“Ha! You speak well for a mere dancer. No surprise—seducing people with your mouth and body is your real calling.”

Mason, clothes disheveled, had the dancer cornered and was berating him. The dancer bit his lower lip and clenched his fists.

“I’ll have to check for myself. Take off your clothes! I need to search you thoroughly to see if you’ve hidden it!”

Mason grabbed the dancer by the shirt collar. The knight shoved him roughly, but the dancer didn’t flinch. Still, Ruzerolt couldn’t look away. He stepped out from behind the column where he’d been hidden.

“What’s going on?”

“Captain…”

Mason let go of Cheil’s collar and straightened up.

“I don’t understand why there’s such a commotion this early.”

“This damned dancer stole something from me! That’s why I was shouting!”

Mason answered with a self-assured tone.

“I… didn’t do it.”

“Still denying it?”

He grabbed Cheil by the chest again. Cheil looked at Ruzerolt with watery eyes, as if to say it was unfair. Seeing those eyes naturally raised doubts.

Did that dancer really steal something from Mason…?

Not interfering in the private lives of knights had long been a deeply rooted custom in the North. Even more so when it came to matters related to minor pleasures. Moreover, in this commotion, there was a status difference between a knight and a dancer.

“…Make sure to resolve this discreetly.”

Ruzerolt had no reason to get involved in this dispute that was biased from the start. As always.

“Yes, Captain!”

He looked away, but felt discomfort deep in his heart. He couldn’t understand why until he entered his office.

When he closed the office door, the faint noise stopped completely. In his quiet personal space, Ruzerolt felt sudden fatigue. None of the dancers Dexler had brought before had affected his nerves so much.

Cheil was an annoying presence, both when in sight and when not. He had always wondered why Dexler had brought a male dancer, but now he seemed to understand his intentions.

It might be an exaggeration, but… if Dexler had imagined any possibility between Cheil and him…

Then he had to be even more careful with Cheil.

“I really didn’t steal it!”

But if that wasn’t the case. If he had simply been swept up by the atmosphere that rejected a humble dancer. If he was judging Cheil without knowing the truth…

“Ugh…”

Suddenly, his head hurt.

Why was he so worried about a simple dancer?

He needed a change of perspective. Ruzerolt flung open the window. Snow entering with the air filled the captain’s office.

Ruzerolt stood in the center of the open window and looked outside. But something was shining in the air. In the snowy, misty air. The light reflected again when the wind blew. It was under a branch of a snow-covered tree.

Whooosh.

A silver pocket watch swung like a pendulum on the trembling branch.

“I… didn’t do it.”

“…”

Cheil’s voice, asserting his innocence, dissipated in his mind.