Emotions That Shouldn’t Have Mixed

“What do you mean by that?”

The statement was so abrupt that Eren was taken aback.
But judging by Arnold’s smiling expression, it didn’t seem to be meant in a bad way.

“I heard you were of s*ave origin, Mr.
Lloyd.
I was told your parents were migrant slaves from the Longlands.”

That was a fact no one knew besides Kazen—no, a fact no one had even cared to know.
It was puzzling how Arnold had come to learn of it.

“…Yes, that’s correct.”

“And then you entered the mana supply corps, met Duke Clifford on the battlefield, became a servant in his household, and rose to become his aide.”

“Ah, yes.
That’s right.”

It was surprisingly accurate, to the point of being startling.
Even the servants at the ducal estate probably didn’t know this much about him.

“In my view, people like us should stick together.”

‘People like us.’
Eren had a vague idea of what that meant, but it was still puzzling.

“People like us…”

“Those who were born with nothing inherited, yet rose to a place like this solely by their innate talent.”

“Ah…”

It seemed Arnold felt a sense of kinship with Eren based on not being of noble birth.
But Eren was of migrant s*ave origin, belonging to a class lower than commoners.
Of course, Kazen had freed him from those bonds.

Moreover, Arnold was from the famous ‘Harrison family.’
How could he and Eren, who once scavenged for scraps in the slums, be considered in the same situation?

“I…”

The moment Eren opened his mouth to say something, a familiar figure flashed in the corner of his vision.
Startled, Eren turned his head to follow.

‘Could that be His Grace…?’

Though the garden was dark, there was no way Eren wouldn’t recognize his silhouette.
Someone was with him; from the glimpse of white clothing, it seemed to be Harold.

A bad premonition flashed through the back of his mind in an instant.
Without thinking, Eren shot up from his seat.

“Is something wrong?
Did I say something offensive?”

Perhaps surprised by Eren’s sudden action, Arnold asked with wide eyes.

“No, it’s not that.”

He had to complete the task Kazen gave him, but more than that, he couldn’t bear not knowing where the two were going.

“Suddenly, I’m very sorry, but I just remembered something I must do immediately.
Will you be alright returning to the hall alone?”

“That’s fine, but… do you have something to do in this dark garden?”

At the mention of having something to do in the pitch-dark Imperial garden, Arnold frowned and asked.

“Well, it’s difficult to explain.
It would be best if we met again soon and talked in detail.”

“Yes, I need to rewrite the proposal anyway.
I’ll be in touch again shortly.”

Fortunately, Arnold didn’t press the issue and obediently agreed to return to the hall alone.
Even though Kazen would likely scold him later for not getting closer to him, there was no helping it now.

After sending Arnold off, Eren very cautiously began walking in the direction where Kazen and Harold had disappeared.
The farther he got from the building, the darker it became, as there were no mage-stone lamps.

What on earth could they want to discuss that they came to such a secluded, quiet place?

Afraid that the sharp-sensed Kazen might detect his presence, Eren walked as quietly as possible, crouching low to minimize sound.

“…So why are you taking it out on me?”

Then, Kazen’s faint voice reached his ears, and he stopped.
If he got any closer, he would surely be caught.

Eren stood behind a well-trimmed garden tree, breathing low and controlled.
He wanted to peek and see them, but he might be spotted, so he just stayed still and listened.

“…You’ll have to pay the price.”

“…You said you’d do anything… …Just tell me what you want.”

Although their murmuring voices were faintly audible, whenever they lowered their voices in between, it was hard to make out.
It just seemed like they were arguing.

Was the altercation from earlier in the hall continuing?
If they were fighting because of him, it worried him.

Lost in thought, he suddenly realized it had become too quiet.
He couldn’t hear footsteps, and thinking they might have left, Eren cautiously peeked his head out from behind the tree.

Then, he gasped sharply at the sight before him.
Under the lush foliage of a tree, two figures were entangled.

Why were Kazen and Harold so close?

“Stop it, Kazen.”

Only when he saw Harold pushing Kazen away belatedly did he understand.
The two had been…… kissing.

“Is this enough?”

As their lips parted, Kazen’s voice, laced with laughter, was heard.

In that moment, Eren covered his mouth and stepped back.
No thoughts came to mind.
His mind went blank, and all he wanted was to get away from there quickly.

Turning around, Eren began to walk quickly, almost fleeing.
His stomach churned as if he’d swallowed something he shouldn’t have have.
Covering his mouth, he hurried his steps.

He needed to return to the hall where the party was in full swing, and he knew Kazen would reprimand him if he noticed he’d left his post… but he simply didn’t want to go back there.
His stomach was twisted in knots, and being among those unpleasant people felt like it would make him nauseous.

In a hurry, Eren left the garden and headed for the night streets.
Even after leaving the Imperial Palace, he wandered aimlessly for quite a while before finally stopping.
The road, now shrouded in complete darkness, was silent without a single soul in sight.

“The party must be over by now…”

He wondered if Kazen would look for him when he realized he was gone, or if he would just leave him behind.
Most likely, he wouldn’t even care.
If it were Kazen, he would never worry about Eren; he would only get angry that he hadn’t done his job properly.

More than that, this was the first time he had run away like this, leaving Kazen behind, and it made him uneasy.
His head already throbbed at the thought of what excuse to give tomorrow morning.
He couldn’t tell the truth that he had seen them.

Even in his confused state, the scene he had just witnessed kept sticking to his eyelids, refusing to fade.
He wanted to think he might have seen wrong, but the memory was too vivid to deny.

It was surprising that the two had been in such close contact, but what was even more absurd was how deeply shocked he himself felt by that fact.

At first, he thought he was just startled at accidentally seeing a private moment of Kazen’s.
But even so, to fall into such a panic…

Eren couldn’t even describe what he was feeling now.
Why did he feel this despair, as if the world were collapsing, and why was his heart pounding so hard?

Was it because it was the first time he’d seen Kazen being physically intimate with someone?
Or was it because the other person was Harold?
Neither explanation made sense.

“Haah, I can’t breathe.”

His throat felt constricted.
The tie felt like it was choking him, so Eren hastily undid the knot.
Cold sweat broke out, and he felt nauseous.

He stuffed the luxurious silk tie, which felt smooth against his skin, haphazardly into his pocket and undid a couple of shirt buttons.
Only then did he breathe a little easier, but his mouth had long been parched.

Frantically, Eren looked around.
Fortunately, a tavern with its door open was visible not far away.
He hurriedly went inside.
He thought there might be customers at this early evening hour, but the atmosphere was quieter than expected.

It had been a very long time since he’d been out on the streets alone at this hour, and it was his first time ever in a tavern.
Clumsily looking around, Eren just sat at any empty seat he saw.

Looking around the place quietly, he saw about four or five customers sitting scattered about, not doing anything.
Most wore shabby clothes, and some looked like artists.

“Will you be ordering?”

Just then, a man who seemed to be the owner spoke gruffly from behind the counter.
Blinking his wide eyes, Eren gave a small nod.

Thinking the man might give him a menu, he waited quietly.
Instead, the man turned sharply and tossed a remark.

“I’ll give you a glass.
Ten celrants.”

Without even discussing what to order, the owner started making something on his own.
Come to think of it, the other customers around were all drinking the same beverage.

The green drink in a transparent glass caught his eye.
He had heard about it from Kazen before.
A drink for the poor.

‘Was it called absinthe?’

Thinking to himself, he rummaged in his pocket, took out a ten-celrant coin, and placed it on the table.
Not long after, the owner brought over a glass, set it down on the table with a thud, and took the coin.

“Mix it yourself.”