Bermuda

Leonardo blinked his heavy eyelids and stared at the darkened ceiling. Unusually bright moonlight seeped in through the small window high up on the right.

Although it wasn’t because of that, he couldn’t fall asleep for some reason. Even lying still, he could feel his pulse throbbing in his neck and ears.

However, the real reason he couldn’t sleep was something else. It was probably the heavy hand patting his lower abdomen.

Leonardo slowly shifted his gaze, following the large hand moving in a steady rhythm. Tracing along the thick forearm to its end, he saw a handsome man lying with his head propped up, looking at him.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

He asked in a monotone voice, lids languid. The pale moonlight shattered and poured over his face. He looked like a beautiful plaster statue a master craftsman had painstakingly refined.

While a cool, clear sky suited him too, the cool yet sensual color of night was undoubtedly a light made for him.

Leonardo slightly furrowed his brow at his own embarrassing thoughts, but couldn’t deny the appreciation welling up from his heart. Just in case the other might hear his heartbeat, he pulled the bedding up to his chin and asked back in a whisper:

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“...I’ll sleep when you do.”

“I said I might have nightmares, not that I needed help falling asleep...”

Regardless, Hugo kept patting his lower abdomen and used the right arm that had been propping up his head to pull another pillow from the headboard. After placing it overlapping in a spot slightly closer to Leonardo, he laid his head—and heavy thoughts—on it. Though his face was full of fatigue, he absolutely wouldn’t close his eyes. He would probably keep it up until the fellow in front of him fell asleep.

Leonardo stared blankly at Hugo, who didn’t answer, then slipped his arm under the covers and placed his hand on his own stomach. Hugo’s patting hand hesitated as it felt the presence beneath the blanket. Soon, he lightly grasped the temptation fluttering with the thick bedding.

Feeling a sense of security, Leonardo asked in a low voice:

“So why were you avoiding me? Was it really because you were upset by what I said?”

Hugo suddenly realized he hadn’t properly explained that yet.

His blue eyes lifted for a moment. Then, looking down, he nodded as if pushed into it:

“...It seems I was.”

At this, the golden eyes that had been sharply on edge all day drooped weakly.

“I’m sorry.”

The hand under the covers moved slowly, gently scratching Hugo’s palm.

Hugo closed his eyes tightly, then opened them and sighed.

‘This is trouble.’

Even if this fellow suddenly turned on him one day and tried to harm him, with that face and a single word of apology, everything would be forgiven—it was that effective.

Hugo felt the danger, yet conflicted with the complacency that didn’t want to escape it. At the same time, he fell into deep contemplation about whether he should accept this apology.

In fact, he didn’t really know why he’d acted that way. He just thought it would be better to keep his distance.

Although it had led to this situation... if the other had been hurt by it, his actions must have been a bit excessive.

Rather, he should be the one apologizing, but receiving it instead pricked his conscience. However, considering how he had bustled about for the troubles to come, it seemed fine to accept this level of apology without thinking too much about it.

Hugo caressed the fingers fidgeting under the covers. Then, looking at the sorrowful face, he rubbed the eye rims with his gaze. The topic quickly moved on to something else.

“There aren’t many places in Fidele that handle high-quality fabrics. I’ll have the new magic robe we talked about before made for you when we return to the imperial capital.”

Leonardo knew Hugo had deliberately changed the subject, but he didn’t press it. Instead, he calculated the last moments that would remain between them after returning.

Talking about high-quality fabric meant it would be custom-made, which would take quite some time from cutting to production. Leonardo casually asked:

“Once we go back, how long will it take?”

“...What?”

When Hugo asked back as if it were ambiguous, Leonardo paused before answering:

“How long will it take until you release me?”

Hugo was momentarily at a loss for words at the direct question. His gaze drifted in the air before returning to its place.

“Well, if we change the disposition summarily, about two or three days. If it goes to trial, a day or two more than that.”

“You’re saying it has to go to trial?”

Leonardo asked back in an incredulous tone. Deep trauma from three years ago was woven into it.

Hugo stared at him, whose expression had darkened instantly, and recalled the northern grand plaza of the imperial capital that had been nearly half destroyed.

Strictly speaking, it couldn’t be said to be anyone’s fault, but outwardly Leonardo, who had defied public authority, was painted as the cause.

The higher-ups would try to prevent the Council’s image from being tarnished, so if Leonardo wasn’t co-opted after his return, they would propagate that incident to the public as an even crueler event. Then the media that already held negative views of him would write sensational articles as if they’d been waiting for it.

In the end, Leonardo, who had enemies on all sides, needed an official indulgence that could offset all of that.

An indulgence to cleanly shake off the suspicion of helping the merchant group leader escape from Frost Territory, whether true or not, and to wash away the stigma of destroying facilities in the imperial capital and threatening the safety of imperial citizens. Furthermore, he needed a stepping stone that would become the foundation for recovering his tarnished honor to some extent and living freely in this land.

Hugo believed that a trial for Leonardo, hosted by the Council as a deliberative body, could be the answer. Of course, it wouldn’t unfold easily as intended, but it was the surest way to improve public perception, # Nоvеlight # and the key to reclaiming his rights.

Moreover, the credibility of the Council’s judgment would prevent external forces from approaching Leonardo in the future. And there was nothing more Leonardo needed to do for that. The merits he had established on the peninsula were achievements too great to be converted into mere freedom.

Now, conveying those achievements truthfully and effectively, without omission, was solely Hugo’s responsibility. However, since his conversation with Cordelia inside the watchtower a few days ago, he had to question several times whether he could actually accomplish that.

Although he was preparing through his adjutants, Flynn and Gabe, and various external subordinates, he wasn’t sure the situation would flow as expected. Moreover, something he didn’t know was controlling the truth underwater—something like that chillingly thick and secretive stack of petitions.

Hugo blinked slowly and bitterly swallowed his reality.

‘Can I, who can barely keep my own position, really protect you?’

He met the golden eyes looking at him with an even more subdued gaze. As Hugo stayed silent, anxiety naturally settled on Leonardo’s face.

“Why?”

It meant: why are you looking at me like that. To that short question, Hugo uttered words completely different from his inner thoughts.

“Don’t worry. Whether a trial is held or not, there won’t be any problems regaining your freedom.”

Hugo murmured this as he reached out. He lightly touched Leonardo’s soft cheek.

“Trust me.”

Leonardo blinked at the other’s sweet assurance. It seemed like words meant for him, but it also sounded like a solemn pledge to himself.

What came to mind next was the image of Agrizendro telling him to trust him amid the falling volcanic ejecta. He and this person had survived from there. All he had done then was believe in him.

So this time too, it would go according to his will. Believing so, Leonardo answered:

“Okay.”

He nodded slowly, allowing Hugo’s hand to rub against his cheek.

Hugo’s tight lips loosened naturally. He had meant to reassure the other, but the coy golden eyes and the skin brushing his fingers seemed to tell him to be reassured instead.

Hugo indulged a bit longer in the cheek that had come to him of its own accord, then turned his attention to the golden hair that kept falling.

“When we return, it might be good to cut your hair a bit too.”

“Why, don’t you like it now?”

“No, it’s not that...”

He couldn’t bring himself to say it was because he couldn’t see your eyes well.

Instead of holding back, Hugo looked for another reason, partly to change the mood. Unfortunately, what came to mind was a topic he didn’t particularly want to think about.

“...There will be people worried about you. It would be better to show them a neat appearance when you return.”

Leonardo listened without much thought, but at the slightly out-of-place remark, he carefully chewed over its implications. Then he suddenly flinched. People worried about me? Return? He thought Hugo might know something.

Afraid his stiffening expression might show, he needlessly pressed the inside of his cheek with his tongue to loosen the tense muscles. Then he asked back as if nothing was wrong:

“People worried? Well, who?”

Surprisingly, quite a few people passed through Leonardo’s mind. Starting with Nero... faces he hadn’t seen in a long time, like the white butterfly that had flown between the prison bars.

Hugo withdrew his hand from Leonardo’s hair he’d been combing through. After a brief pause, he spoke in a calm tone:

“Someone like a lover. I don’t think you wouldn’t have one.”

It was completely different from what he’d expected, so Leonardo’s eyebrows subtly rose.

“A lover?”

Leonardo was unsure whether the other was being sincere or had some other intention. Meeting his blank stare, he replied in a puzzled tone:

“I don’t have anything like that, though?”

Hugo’s brow twitched slightly. He thought Leonardo was lying to protect that thundering idiot.

Contrary to Hugo’s misunderstanding, Leonardo soon chuckled and said nonchalantly:

“Ah, of course, I do have a face that would make it strange not to have one. But—”

Speaking brazenly, as if showing off, he lightly grumbled about how busy he’d been, asking where he would’ve had time for that. Then he teasingly criticized the Council, asking if they’d been following him around doing background checks.

His natural facial muscles and easy voice confused Hugo, who had been certain Leonardo had a lover.

Having had plenty of experience with interrogations, he was confident in his ability to judge, with high probability, whether what the other was saying was true or false. However, Leonardo reflected in his blue eyes somehow didn’t seem to be lying.

Hugo’s relaxed brow gradually stiffened. One eyebrow rose as if twisting, sensing some error.

The anguish that had tormented him countless times just moments ago quickly flashed through his mind.

Hugo asked in a rather serious tone:

“...You don’t have one?”

Leonardo, who had been chattering, stared at him blankly. Then he nodded as if it were obvious.

“No.”