It was a story that defied logic in every sense, but then again, dying and returning to the past had already broken the boundaries of reason.
Yuder withdrew his hand from his now calm head, the throbbing headache having subsided. Gradually, the first light of dawn seeped through the window. There was little chance of sleep returning, so he decided it was better to wash and start the day early.
Yet, as his gaze landed on the small table in his room, the image of Kishiar from his dream unexpectedly resurfaced. Red eyes fixed on him, staring in silence from behind a desk.
Though Kishiar had claimed to be free of regret, the expression in his eyes would have been hard to believe for anyone who saw him.
What exactly was the emotion flickering in those crimson eyes?
Had that really happened?
If his memory had been wrong up until now, where did the truth begin, and the lies end?
Who had dared to tamper with Yuder Aile's memories? He sighed, wrestling with the question that remained unanswered.
'Even if that memory was real… everything is different now.'
This time, Kishiar hadn't been injured during the operation to retrieve the Red Stone. Moreover, he hadn't used the divine sword when the invaders attacked. The fact that he was the sword's master remained a secret, known only to a select few.
That was enough. So far, everything was proceeding according to Yuder's plans. With a firm clench of his fist, he resolved to be content with that for now.
A faint, purplish bruise marred his hand.
Yesterday, Kishiar had told the Eldore siblings, Gakane, Kanna, and Yuder to meet him the next morning after breakfast.
However, Yuder never made it to the large dining hall where the Cavalry members typically gathered. Thirty minutes before breakfast, a knock echoed at his door.
It was Nathan Zuckerman, as always, his face as composed as ever.
"The Duke is asking for you."
"...Now?"
"Yes."
Yuder had assumed Kishiar had summoned the entire Cavalry team that had accompanied him on the mission because of something urgent.
But when he arrived, he found Kishiar alone, seated leisurely in front of a simple meal. No other squad members were present.
"You're here. Sit down," Kishiar said casually, gesturing with a piece of bread cut into bite-sized pieces skewered with meat and vegetables. His demeanor was so relaxed that, if not for the formal setting, it could have passed for a picnic.
Without thinking, Yuder glanced at Nathan, standing quietly behind him. Nathan nodded silently, confirming that Kishiar had indeed called for Yuder alone.
With a hint of apprehension, Yuder approached the table, his senses keenly aware of the heavy, tingling presence of the Red Stone permeating the air. The box containing it was hidden from view, likely stowed away somewhere deeper within the room.
"Why have you called for me alone?"
"Let's eat first and then talk. You haven't had breakfast yet, have you?"
Yuder glanced down at the simple yet appealing dishes arranged on the table, Slightly taken aback, He couldn't discern Kishiar's intent, but this sort of unpredictability was characteristic of the Duke.
'Once Kishiar says let's eat and talk, he'll keep his word,'
Without further protest, Yuder took a seat across from Kishiar.
"It's simple food, nothing elaborate," Kishiar explained. "There's no need to worry about formalities. Just enjoy it. Personally, I'm quite fond of the dish right in front of me."
Kishiar nodded toward a skewer, a light smile playing on his lips. It was a modest yet hearty meal — dough made from ground grains, grilled and stuffed with various ingredients, conveniently prepared on a stick. A small stack of empty skewers on Kishiar's plate suggested he'd already eaten a fair share while waiting.
Yuder eyed the dish for a moment before picking up one of the skewers. The white, grilled lump felt warm in his hand, and as he took a cautious and awkward bite, the savory, stir-fried meat inside released its flavor. Despite his lingering unease from the nightmare and he's lack of appetite, the mild taste was surprisingly pleasant. He could even eat a decent amount.
Chewing quietly, Yuder noticed Kishiar's red eyes fixed on him, a faint smile curling his lips, as though he was waiting for something.
"Do you have something to say?"
"How's the taste?"
"…"
Yuder paused. Was this a genuine question about the food, or was there another layer to it? His instincts told him the latter. Nevertheless, he answered, keeping his tone neutral.
"It's delicious," he replied, though the words were mundane. But it wasn't sincere. Yuder had never really experienced a craving for food in his previous life.
To him, there was no significant difference between the soup he ate at the rundown inn when he first met Gakane and the beautifully skewered dish he was eating now. If there was a way to live without eating, he would have been the firs
Kishiar, however, was not satisfied. He shook his head, eyes gleaming with amusement. "No, not such an insincere answer."
"Being my assistant means you have to answer sincerely, especially to questions like these. Try again. How's the taste?"
A slight twitch of Yuder's brow betrayed his internal frustration. 'Surely being an assistant doesn't just involve answering questions about food?' He wasn't sure if Kishiar was playing games with him, but if a 'sincere' answer was what the Duke wanted, then Yuder would give it.
"The dish, while simple in appearance, reflects a certain care in preparation. Its flavor is mild, fitting for a morning meal, and it's convenient to eat. I'm honored to share this meal with you, Commander," Yuder answered, choosing his words with precision.
Satisfied with his response, Yuder waited for Kishiar's reaction, expecting the conversation to finally move on.
But Kishiar, much to his surprise, shook his head again, his shoulders trembling with barely suppressed laughter. "Disappointing. That's not the answer I wanted. You still don't get it, do you?"
Yuder stared at Kishiar in mild frustration, trying to make sense of the conversation.
What was he supposed to understand from a question about taste?
This was an entirely new experience for him—Kishiar hadn't asked such odd questions in his past life, even during his time as Kishiar's assistant. The man had always been peculiar, but he hadn't started like this from the very first day.
Feeling a little frustrated, Yuder finally opened his mouth.
"I've been indifferent to the taste of food since birth. There's hardly any difference between gruel and gourmet cuisine on my tongue, so whatever I say, I fear it won't satisfy you..."
"That's it,"
"Pardon?"
"That honesty. That's what I wanted."
Yuder stared blankly at Kishiar, who nodded, finally satisfied.
"Do you really expect someone chewing food with the expression of eating sand to tell you it tastes good?"
"..."
"If the food tastes bad, say it tastes bad. If you don't have an appetite, just say so. That's what I expect from my assistant." Kishiar's voice was calm but carried an undeniable weight that Yuder couldn't ignore.
Only then did the true intent of Kishiar's persistent questioning become clear to Yuder. He wasn't looking for a surface-level, polite answer. He had been using this meal, seemingly casual and insignificant, to break down Yuder's guarded exterior and draw out his real feelings.
Such a serious point hidden in such a trivial question—it was baffling but at the same time genuinely admirable. Kishiar had a way of making people let their guard down, even Yuder, who should've known better by now.
'Even knowing how Kishiar uses these tactics, I still let my guard down,' Yuder thought with a sigh. He blinked, then let out a small breath.
"...In that case, I'll stop eating. I'm not hungry."
Kishiar laughed heartily, his eyes bright. "Hahaha! Do as you please. But at least have some juice. Nathan personally squeezed it for us."
He pointed to two glasses on one side of the table, filled with juice made from a mixture of vegetables and fruits. Yuder glanced at Nathan, who stood silently behind them with his usual serious expression. With a sigh, Yuder picked up one of the glasses and drained it in one go. The greenish juice looked odd but tasted surprisingly sweet.
"You're giving me quite the profound lesson on my first day as your assistant. Is this why you called me here first?"
"Not at all," Kishiar replied with a slight smile. "The real matter is this."
Kishiar, appearing to be finished with his meal as well, wiped his mouth with an elegant motion and extended his hand toward Nathan. The aide approached the desk, picked up something carefully, and placed it into Kishiar's outstretched hand.
A pair of black gloves.
Yuder's expression changed in an instant.
"You seem surprised," Kishiar observed. "The wound hasn't healed properly yet, so it needs to be covered. These gloves are special—enchanted to adhere to your skin and promote healing. They won't be damaged even if they get wet or bloody. Wear them without worry. And there's no need to thank me for a wound you got while protecting me."
Yuder had already been thinking he'd need something to cover the wound on his hand, so it was convenient that Kishiar had gloves prepared. But that wasn't what caught him off guard.
In his previous life, Kishiar had worn gloves just like these. The memories of those days came rushing back, as vivid as if they had just happened yesterday. How could he have forgotten?