He had heard him say that already—
it was like an inner spark urging me to lower myself to his level,
trying to convince him that I was speaking as a friend who truly wanted what was best for him.
He must be genuinely afraid.
Everything that had happened to him since my father's decision until this very moment
was a series of random events the mind could hardly process.
I let out what was weighing on my chest,
hoping it would make him feel safe.
"Jinho, I'm not blaming you.
I truly understand your worry about him.
So please, don't do it again.
The strong are strong—and your encouragement alone is enough.
Weren't you confident in him?"
The trembling in his body eased within seconds,
and he looked at him with unease.
The problem had never been a lack of trust—
he simply wanted him to win.
He shook his head, which made Raphael stand straight again before him and say:
"Have you ever truly considered how he would feel seeing you hanging between life and death because of him?
Try—truly—to look at it from our perspective.
No one blames your way of thinking, only your method."
After thinking it through, he was right.
I had been reckless.
And on top of that, their feelings hadn't crossed my mind
as much as my desire to feel satisfied had.
I had to admit it—his words were a logical slap that would leave a lasting mark inside me.
If I wanted to survive—even a month from now—
I had to calculate everything from every angle and by every means.
He exhaled with a trembling breath, nodding his head as if to tell him that he was truly convinced.
His head remained lowered,
not daring to look at him after fully grasping what he had said, what he had done, and what he had ignored.
But he truly wanted survival.
He wanted everyone to remain safe.
It didn't matter to him how he would return to his world—
what mattered were his principles.
He would not ascend back to his world over the corpses of those who died because of him.
He spoke quietly, with a hint of pleading:
"Your Highness…
If something happens in the future, will you truly believe me—no matter what?"
He heard a mocking scoff and felt the other's hand rest on his head as he said in a teasing tone:
"Hm… I don't think so."
Jinho lifted his head, his eyes filled with questions.
Then why wouldn't he believe him?
What was he supposed to do to gain the prince's trust before the day of execution arrived?
He saw him laugh mockingly and continue:
"I don't think I'll be able to endure your lies—
but I'll believe them until you explain them.
Now get up and return to your bed
before you lose what little strength you have left."
He had no choice but to comply, grateful—
because he felt slightly reassured because of him.
He walked unsteadily, which caused laughter to escape.
Like a cat whose paw had been injured,
so it decided to hop using the rest of its limbs.
A muffled laugh slipped from the prince's mouth,
and Jinho heard it.
He turned around, a faint blush appearing on his face from his exposed weakness, and said irritably:
"Don't laugh."
"Alright. Just be careful.
Try to ask for help—
and don't think I've forgotten that I still owe you a punishment."
"I'll have to break my legs to avoid it long enough for you to forget."
He said it with a crooked smile, then waved his hand and left the room.
The door closed behind him.
There was no one to lean on here—
and how he cursed that.
The sting in his foot was more irritating than painful.
He decided to lean against the wall and continue toward his room.
He was hungry and wanted to go to the kitchen,
but his injury naturally stopped him.
With every step he took—and stumbled on the next—
Mariana appeared before him.
He bowed and said:
"Good evening, my lady—"
He didn't finish.
She passed by him as if he didn't exist,
not even sparing him a glance, only glaring at him sharply.
He didn't like that at all.
His pride was bruised, so he raised his voice enough for her to hear:
"Are you angry because of me?"
She turned toward him, looked at him as if stripping him of any value, stepped closer, and said coldly:
"Angry at you?
And what do you even mean to me for me to be angry because of you?
Continue on your way."
"Strong words coming from you, my lady."
He said it with a smile—
but she knew this type of smile:
false, provocative, and irritating.
"I see you've grown a little bold."
"I truly apologize for causing you trouble.
And yet, I don't see you concerned about my injury.
It seems I'm not important to you."
He fell silent for a moment, then continued, stressing his final words:
"As if I were nothing more than a pawn in your plan from the very beginning."
Her expression shifted to surprise as she replied in confusion:
"What escape are you talking about?"
"You're more aware of your intentions than I am,
so excuse me—I'll take my leave."
He continued walking past her,
maintaining his artificial politeness and coldness—
his specialty when provoking others.
He staggered past her,
until she grabbed his shoulder, steadied him, and said:
"What the hell are you implying?
You're nothing but a variable I move however I want.
Because of you, Hanyul and I are heading to the palace.
Is there any reason for me to be happy about you?"
He laughed quietly, replying with sarcasm and sharp eyes:
"No, no, no.
Thank me for staying alive.
Raphael and those with him could've killed you."
He walked away, leaving her behind—
locked in a psychological struggle within herself.
That arrogant man was the opposite of what she had expected.
He wasn't foolish—he was smart, sly, and sharp-tongued.
"A fascinating variable."
She whispered to herself before leaving the place,
beginning to analyze his words.
What troubled her was that he hadn't tried to escape during this return.
So how did he know she wanted to?
Meanwhile, on his side, he began analyzing her response as well.
"Just a variable you move however you want…"
What did she mean by "variable"?
Damn it—
I should have tried to extract more information from her.
She was a girl skilled in verbal manipulation and acting,
who cared only about money—
that's what I remembered.
And if I used some of her exposed secrets,
I might fall out of her list of favorites.
I have no intention of earning her affection.
She's the kind of person I'm most uncomfortable around—
somehow.
"I feel exposed before her."
They both said it internally,
each harboring suspicion—
yet another smile formed on both their faces,
like gamblers betting on who would win the battle ahead.
He forced himself to walk, though his thoughts kept him occupied, distracting him from his foot and his annoyance at her.
He entered his room to find Rora waiting for him.
She placed one foot over the other, showing a patient emptiness.
"You finally honored me. Your meal is on the table. Mariana requested it to be prepared as her last service for me."
He laughed, though he was not in the mood for laughter.
Perhaps she was treating him with temporary harshness because she would soon be forced to go with Raphael to his palace.
And that was something he could not blame her for.
His motive was only to test her patience, to ensure she would give him information and confirm that she was proceeding as she believed she was.
After all, Jinho was not careless when it came to the gentleness of actions from people he had just met.
She was placing a book beside her, reading silently, prompting him to ask:
"Do you enjoy reading?"
She looked at him with a hint of sarcasm and replied calmly:
"I am a servant, but I am educated."
He asked her more, and she answered quietly.
"What have you studied, then?"
"My father taught me to play musical instruments."
"Wow, I like that. Which instruments do you play?"
She smiled shyly, seemingly proud.
"I can play the violin and piano, and I was in the process of learning to play the flute."
He clapped lightly and looked at her with pride. She lowered her head and said with mock anger:
"Stop it, you fool, this is embarrassing, and you didn't even tell me what you studied."
"Me?"
He paused for a moment, realizing that Jinho had memories not mentioned in the story and that she did not know about them.
But he said what he specialized in as Songmin in his other world:
"I specialized in mathematics, but I actually learned various sports, including ice skating."
Yes, Songmin had been a well-known athlete on campus.
A kind and talented boy, a league champion despite being young, smart and strong enough to participate in many competitions.
Unfortunately, it rarely snowed in Estravil, only lightly.
Rora said, looking at him with pity, "His training will be meaningless."
"That's unfortunate," he lowered his head, "but it's okay to wait. When he returns to his world, he will fully enjoy it."
This was another reason for him to hold on to life here.
…
A new day.
A relatively bright morning.
With the chill of cold air.
It was the second day of the competition.
And indeed, while Raphael and his companions regained their strength and adjusted their moods,
Sylvester was completely devastated.