Abel was the one who most wanted to turn his back on reality. He longed to run away with the prince—to hide sowhere, live in the forest, eat what they could find, be poor but live close to nature. Then, maybe, he could finally hear the prince’s laughter, which he had never heard before.
But Abel suppressed all these desires and looked up at the sky. Faintly, a horn-like sound echoed from afar. As if to change the mood, he brightened his face and listened carefully. The sound was clearly a hawk’s cry. Abel’s eyes searched the distance and soon found the hawk descending swiftly from the sky. He cried out in excitent.
“Wow! Prince, it’s a hawk, a hawk!”
When the prince raised his head, Abel pointed quickly at the sky, worried he might miss it.
“Over there, over there! Look—it’s hunting. See those huge wings?”
The hawk dove down, wings spread wide, then soared upward again. Watching its flight, Abel suddenly spoke as if reminded of sothing.
“By the way, did you know? If people eat raw at, they often get stomachaches. But hawks don’t. Isn’t that strange?”
After watching the hawk a little longer, Abel smiled and leaned in.
“Hehe, the secret lies in the hawk’s nest.”
His voice dropped, like sharing a secret, and the prince looked up with more interest. Pleased, Abel leaned closer and whispered just for him.
“When a hawk builds its nest, it brings a special herb. That fragrant grass protects it from getting sick even when eating raw at. Isn’t it amazing? Even though it doesn’t live on the ground, it still manages to find such precious herbs. Sotis animals are wiser than humans. When at goes bad and people mishandle it, it’s said if you find a hawk’s nest and eat that herb with the at, you’ll be fine.”
Though the hawk had disappeared into the distance, the two kept looking at the sky. The prince was the first to turn his gaze away from the calm sky. Since morning, he had stayed close to Abel—but now, unexpectedly, he stood up and turned his back on him. Abel was startled and began to rise, but his senses reacted first.
“So, what’s the secret in the hawk’s nest?”
It was a hoarse voice. The speaker didn’t look like soone who had been wandering the mountains, though he was pale. He was tall, yet so thin he looked like the wind might knock him over. And his eyes—empty, distant. Abel didn’t know when he’d appeared, but there he was.
And he wasn’t alone. Clinging to his arm was a small, beautiful man, holding on like a woman. Not only that, but their wrists were tied together with a string. Abel had never seen him before, but he knew instantly who the tall man was. There was sothing deeply familiar in those vacant eyes—sothing that reminded him of the prince.
“Your Majesty.”
Abel bowed quickly and stood. Just as he tried to move beside the prince, he noticed a small hand blocking him. Only then did he understand why the prince had turned away.
The child was shielding Abel from the king. For whatever reason, the prince harbored a deep hostility toward him. What was curious was the king’s reaction. Despite his son’s wary expression, he smiled. To Abel, it looked twisted.
“How pathetic. So sure of yourself—when you can’t even protect what you hold dear.”
The king sneered at the prince, then looked up at Abel.
“And you, the one who put such foolish thoughts in his head, are even more pathetic. And yet...”
He slowly glanced around the area.
“Of all places, it had to be here. How convenient, capturing the prince’s heart in a place with no interference.”
In response to the biting remark, Abel calmly looked back at the king and asked:
“Your Majesty, didn’t you also once wish to be with soone who captured your heart without interference?”
Had soldiers been present, it might have been considered insolence worthy of punishnt. The Regas at the king’s side glanced at Abel anxiously, as if scolding him. But the king only answered in a cold voice.
“No. I knew from the start I couldn’t be with that person for long.”
He chuckled abruptly, locking eyes with Abel.
“And neither will you.”
The king searched Abel’s face for fear or surprise, amused—but t only calm green eyes, filled with warmth and pity. He narrowed his eyes.
“You seem to know sothing.”
But Abel gave no answer. Instead, he gently placed his hand on the child’s head—the small hand still blocking his path. As if by instinct, he stroked it and spoke words the king didn’t expect.
“I only know one thing. The prince is strong. He endured alone until I ca into his life, and now, he’s even protecting . That’s how strong he is. So...”
He raised his head, speaking clearly to the king, as though inscribing the words.
“Even if our ti is short, it’s fine. I’ll do what I can, here and now, Your Majesty. I believe that even the smallest effort will help the prince.”
There was silence. At Abel’s quiet acceptance, the prince turned and grabbed his hand. Abel held it tightly, smiling as if to say it was alright. The king’s briefly lit gaze dimd again. He scoffed lightly.
“Fools.”
But then, strangely, the king turned to the Regas still clinging to his arm.
“Do you see that, over there?”
“Yes? What do you an, Your Majesty?”
The king pointed to a spot in the forest.
“There. It’s sparkling like a jewel.”
“A jewel?!”
The Regas lit up and stepped forward, trying to see. Then the king, face expressionless, untied their connecting string and placed a hand on the Regas’s shoulder.
“Yes. A jewel—the one you like most. It’s right over there.”
“Your Majesty, I can’t see it. Please explain more clearly.”
“Step to the side. Then you’ll see it.”
As the Regas obeyed and took another step, the king suddenly pushed him hard. The Regas scread and tumbled to the ground. Though the area was clear and bathed in sunlight, he trembled as if blind, feeling around in panic.
“Oh! Your—Your Majesty! Wh-where are you? Please don’t leave , Your Majesty. Your Majesty!”
He cried until his throat was hoarse, though the king stood just steps away. It was a bewildering sight. The king, unmoved, left his Regas behind in the fog and approached Abel and the prince. The prince noticed him first and glared with fierce yellow eyes. The king, eting his gaze, halted and sneered.
“I told you. You can’t protect anything—not even yourself.”
He moved between the prince and Abel, then lowered his head and whispered only for Abel to hear. In the background, the Regas kept screaming, but the king’s quiet words ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) cut through it all.
“Spring of Prayer. That’s the best you can do.”
Without explaining further, the king turned and walked away. But after a few steps, Abel’s voice called after him.
“Your Majesty.”
****
Ashler couldn’t help but be puzzled by Abel’s request. It was no exaggeration to say that everything in the prince’s palace had changed. The king’s personal attendants were everywhere, ticulously recording every person who ca into contact with the prince.
Especially the emotionless record keeper—he was clearly in a foul mood. Ashler noticed that his eyes were always fixed on Abel, not the prince. Why was he so focused on Abel, instead of the one he was supposed to be observing?
Though suspicious, Abel—the subject of that attention—remained unconcerned, behaving as usual. He was more aware than anyone of the scrutiny he was under. Stranger still, Abel was freely moving about, even acting as if on the king’s behalf.
The prince stayed silent as always, but he seed convinced that he must now diligently attend lessons, as long as Abel was by his side. The King's Heart, as if rewarding him, granted them half a day in the forest after just a few days of studying together.
Though his face remained blank, it was clear the prince felt better. And gradually, he began to show signs of adjustnt. Whether it was because he was getting used to it—or simply because Abel was with him—he started doing what the teachers asked without a word. The prince’s days grew busier.
That was why Ashler couldn’t understand Abel’s request when he ca to his room in secret at midnight.
“You’re asking to teach the prince swordsmanship?”
Abel nodded, lowering his voice as though soone might be listening.
“I already ntioned it to the prince in the forest. He’ll say he wants to learn swordsmanship first.”
To sneak in at night and whisper like this—Ashler, sensing sothing, looked sharply toward the window.
“Does he follow you at night too?”
He ant the record keeper. Abel gave a bitter smile, as if saying yes, always. As Ashler frowned, Abel continued, as though pressed for ti.
“But the prince won’t choose you directly, Sir Ashler. That’s why you must act afterward. Please, speak to soone above and arrange to be appointed as his instructor.”
Ashler tilted his head, still confused.
“Wouldn’t it be easier if the prince just picked himself?”
“Yes. And that’s exactly why it won’t work. If it seems too easy, it ans you’re replaceable.”
“......”
“It might be complicated, but it must be done properly. That way, you can stay by the prince’s side longer.”
Ashler doubted his own eyes. The man before him was clearly Abel, but his expression, tone, and words were not what he expected. The fool who used to joke around was now looking at him seriously, speaking with quiet insight.
“The prince hasn’t fully let go of the urge to kill. More ti would help, but circumstances aren’t ideal. That’s why I think he should redirect that instinct elsewhere. Thankfully, he seems interested in swordsmanship. I rember him showing curiosity about hunting boars and bears before.”
At those last words, Ashler agreed. It made sense. If the prince still struggled with his violent urges, swordsmanship might help curb them. Still, Ashler couldn’t shake the question.
“Do you really need to go this far? Even if you spend less ti in the forest, as long as you’re still assisting His Highness—”
Ashler stopped mid-sentence. He realized what Abel was implying.
“Do you think... you won’t be able to stay by the prince’s side much longer?”
Abel smiled faintly. Ashler guessed that the King's Heart was planning to remove him and nodded.
“I’ll speak with the Captain of the Royal Guards who assigned here. I’m sure he’ll support teaching the prince. If a formal request cos, he’ll recomnd . So don’t worry about it.”
Abel, visibly relieved, stood up. But as he did, he staggered, grabbing the table for support.
“Are you alright?”
Ashler quickly caught his arm, but Abel smiled tiredly and waved it off.
Ashler rembered sothing—he’d heard Abel fell asleep during lessons. At first, it seed trivial.
“I heard you fell asleep during the prince’s lessons. Are you feeling unwell?”
Abel didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared into space—his usual habit when caught off guard. Ashler had seen it before: when Abel didn’t know how to respond, he’d pause and say sothing completely unexpected.
Sure enough, the words ca out oddly.
“There’s only one pillow.”
“Excuse ? A pillow?”
“What are you talking about?” Ashler frowned. Abel scratched his head.
“The record keeper sleeps in my room. I gave him my spare pillow, but he couldn’t sleep well because of his usual habits.”
It didn’t make much sense, but sothing in that answer bothered Ashler.
“Wait... the record keeper sleeps in your room?”
“Yes. He even records everything from the mont I wake up. Haha, sotis it feels a little scary.”
Abel laughed, but Ashler’s expression turned icy.
“That’s too much. I’ll report this to the higher-ups—”
“It’s alright.”
Abel cut him off firmly and shook his head. Then he smiled again, but to Ashler, that smile no longer looked genuine.
“I just want to stay by the prince’s side. No matter what.”
Hearing his na spoken so softly made Ashler tense. Abel’s serious tone was unlike anything he’d heard before.
“Please, Ashler. Stay by the prince’s side. No matter what happens.”
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