The Weight of a Gaze

“I want to quit. Seriously.”

The relaxation I had felt until just a moment ago vanished like a lie. As I retraced everything—from our striking first meeting to the way I had fallen head over heels, losing my senses—the stress began to gnaw at my stomach. Shuddering with a grimace, I sank deeper into the water and hugged my knees. Curling up in the warmth, I managed to find a forced sense of peace. If I could have it my way, I would just stay hunkered down here at the Spellman estate forever.

Part of my reluctance stemmed from the Crown Prince’s past track record, but the bigger issue was that his reactions were impossible to predict. Because I couldn’t guess what he was thinking, I couldn’t come up with a way to prepare.

If it were anyone else, it might be different, but for the Crown Prince, summoning me should have been easy. No matter how much of a stronghold Spellman provided, I was still a subject. If the Crown Prince gave an order, it had to be followed. Even if it wasn’t a formal command but just a passing remark, it couldn’t be ignored. The fact that things had been quiet all this time meant that he simply hadn’t called for me.

After calling me every single week.

I let out a short, cynical snort. He used to look at me as if I were the most precious thing in the world. At the time, I was so busy drowning in the shock of it all that I didn’t even think to doubt him. Now that his face had begun to blur in my memory, I wondered if even that gaze had been nothing more than an act.

Given the Crown Prince’s personality and history, it wasn’t entirely out of the question. Since I couldn’t see into his heart, my suspicions only continued to pile up.

The “force” of the original story had clearly been triggered, and it was likely true that he had fallen in love because of it. And yet, there was no effort to keep me by his side. Usually, when someone is in that position—actually, even in ordinary cases—don’t people want to be near the person they love?

If you have the power to change a situation whenever you want, it’s human nature not to let a disadvantageous state persist for long. The gap between theory and reality left me deep in thought.

I tried to imagine a reunion with him—he would be fully grown now, likely standing in for the aging Emperor. If his face was beautiful enough to bewitch people in his mid-teens, what must he look like as an adult?

Would he smile kindly when we met? Or would he act cold? Had he suddenly snapped out of his trance after that first love and realized something was wrong? Was that why his cold reason was now suppressing his unruly emotions and his desire to reach for me? Was that even possible?

Knock, knock.

While my thoughts were branching out in a dozen directions, there was a knock at the door. Since the bathroom was at the very back of the room, the sound was so faint that I wouldn’t have heard it if I hadn’t been focused. Fortunately, this body—one that reacted sensitively even to the rustle of grass—caught the voice calling my name.

It seemed the diligent model student had brought the medicine I requested. I roughly dried off and threw on a bathrobe, but then, considering Llewellyn’s face and the other person’s role, I pulled on a shirt and trousers instead. As per the original author’s description—that he could seduce a man with nothing but his toes—Llewellyn had grown up to have a spectacular face.

His skin, which would only turn briefly red under the sun but never tan, and his shimmering pale-blonde hair remained unchanged. His violet eyes, similar to those of his brothers, hadn’t changed much either. If you looked at each feature individually, you might wonder if anything had truly shifted, but whereas his looks could be dismissed as “cute” when he was a child, that was no longer the case.

Rosy cheeks, long lashes, delicate features—every cliché used to discuss beauty fit him perfectly. Even I would have been impressed if I had seen this face for the first time. The problem was that the face was mine.

Despite working out hard, muscles hadn’t really stuck, and I hadn’t grown as tall as I’d hoped after seeing Cale or Leo. I thought the power of genes would grant me at least another half-span of height. It was a bit bitter to realize I hadn’t even surpassed Abel, who spent every day cooped up in his room doing research without ever seeing the sun. My only consolation was that my eyes were quite sharp, and as the baby fat vanished, I had gained a more keen, sensitive impression.

I opened the door to find Dimension waiting, dressed neatly. His eyes were steady, and his face was as cold as ever. Despite working in places full of heat and sweat, he always carried a desolate, dry scent, as if he had brought winter along with him.

This was why I couldn’t help but feel something was off the moment I first saw him. Looking back, it was a lightning-bolt premonition. It’s him. This guy is the Duke.

Even setting aside the fact that he was the only one of the four leads I hadn’t met yet, Dimension clearly didn’t come from a common background. He rarely opened his mouth, as if he didn’t care to speak with the rest of us, and his fair face—contrasting with his black hair—was that of a pampered young master. Honestly, you’d have to be an idiot not to notice.

After meeting him at the Spellman estate for a spar, I agonized over it before trying to feel Spellman out. To be precise, I tried to poke for info, but when he wouldn’t budge, I clung to him and pestered him. Only after I shouted that my entire future was at stake did Spellman give in to his young disciple and give me a hint.

Carwin Dimension, a sub-lead in the original story, was the youngest son of a Ducal house. This part actually surprised me; since I knew he would become the Duke later, I had naturally assumed he was the eldest son.

The Duchy was a closed-off territory with little interaction with other regions. Furthermore, as the only area on the imperial border that faced friction with external forces, it possessed a military force far exceeding the noble private armies permitted by imperial law. For all intents and purposes, it was a separate nation from the Empire.

If it were a foreign country, there would at least be consistent exchange or bloodlines mixed through political marriages. Dimension had none of that. There were rumors that the current Duchess was from the outside, but even those weren’t certain.

Regardless, in a situation where he had brothers who were already fully grown, a talented youngest son was an unwelcome existence. Several of his brothers, feeling jealous of their much younger sibling, eventually tried to kill him. Fortunately, the Duchess had smuggled him out. Spellman was a prestigious swordsmanship family on par with the Dimensions, and since they used large-scale concealment magic to hide the surnames of all trainees—adhering to the ideology of teaching based solely on talent—it was the best choice for them.

According to Spellman, the age gap between the eldest Dimension son and Carwin was even larger than the gap between me and Cale. They say Edwill’s brothers get along exceptionally well, but still—for a man nearing thirty to feel jealous of a boy in his early teens… The Imperial family is a mess, too, but at least those brothers have different mothers. Over here, they shared the same parents.

If they had waited until the kid grew up and showed his prowess to keep him in check, or if they had actually tested their skills against him, it would have been less pathetic. But trying to kill a child who had just started holding a real sword? I felt a wave of disgust toward the eldest son of the Duke, whom I hadn’t even met.

It was even more laughable because I knew the future: no matter how much he flew or crawled, the one to inherit the house would be the youngest brother they had kicked out. I stood there silently, looking at Dimension as he waited.

The man who would eventually push aside his brothers to become Duke stayed perfectly still, not even rushing me, even as I stood there with the door barely open, staring at him.

Given the late hour and the fact that we were at the entrance to my bedroom, if it were any other guy, I would have just reached out a hand to take the medicine… No, it’s the opposite. I have to be on guard specifically because it’s Dimension.

I caught myself, surprised by how easily my guard had dropped. I knew he was one of the main players who would complicate Llewellyn’s life. I was consciously aware of it, and yet, a sense of trust kept bubbling up regardless. My god, faces really are the problem. Since becoming Llewellyn, this was the first time I’d received such a calm gaze—one seemingly devoid of emotion—so a baseless sense of intimacy kept popping up.

No matter how well one hides it, a desire, once held, can never be completely concealed. That goes for any kind of desire. However, the only time Dimension’s eyes sparkled with longing was the moment our swords clashed.

If it were just my own intuition, I would have ignored it. After all, I only saw him a few times a year; it wasn’t enough to build trust on. On the surface, Cedric Klein looked gentle and cute, too. But everyone who knew Dimension reached the same conclusion: Carwin Dimension was the kind of guy who, even if you danced naked in front of him, wouldn’t get sexually excited—he’d just give you his coat to cover up.

It was an anecdote one of the other trainees had shared, thinking it was a funny story. It played a huge role in raising my opinion of him. Right. A guy like this should be a knight.

Dimension remained unfazed even when people subtly treated him like a pushover, quietly going about his meals. Looking back, that was probably the day my guard crumbled completely. It’s funny even to me, but unlike the other three who were hard to get attached to, Dimension was so straightforward that being around him wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward.

The only reason I could keep one final wall up was thanks to the “dark history” of once thinking Cece was a good friend. If Cedric Klein hadn’t pulled that stunt—hiding his gender and name while acting all charming—I might have ended up being grouped as a “friend” with Dimension while we bickered.

If we hadn’t met like this, he would’ve been a pretty decent guy. There was a lingering sense of regret. If he had been the main lead, it might have been easier to resolve to follow the original story and minimize the deviations.