Chapter 44

Several pieces the broker had already rinsed remained scattered on the table. Isaac blinked, stunned by this unexpected display of generosity from a man he had been eavesdropping on.

“…Thank you.”

He withdrew his hands. The broker stared at Kaiyan in equal surprise, then turned a strangely pleased gaze toward the eating cats.

“But tell me,” the broker added, gesturing toward Isaac, “why does a young man like you look so deathly pale? Have you even been eating your gruel?”

“I’m just feeling a bit under the weather. It is nothing serious, I assure you.”

From the other side of the pillar, Olsen, who had been watching with intense curiosity after Isaac suddenly abandoned his seat, shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Hey! You’ve been weak and wobbly all day! What if you’ve actually caught a cold?”

“A cold? In the middle of summer?” Horden muttered with a deadpan expression beside him.

Olsen shook his head, his expression etched with cynicism. “Have you seen the hovel he lives in? It is a crumbling stone structure that looks at least a century old. The wind cuts right through the walls.”

“Hey, that’s where I live, too! And it’s only fifty years old,” the other retorted.

“Oh, fair point. You used to room with Isaac, did you not? But you will be hitched and gone soon enough. Poor, sickly Isaac will be left rotting in there like a lonely bachelor, catching pneumonia in the dead of July.”

“He started keeping those cats to avoid becoming a lonely old man. He must be obsessed if he is dragging them all the way to a tavern. The man is a total lunatic.”

“I did not bring them!”

Isaac finally shrieked, the exertion spiraling him into a violent coughing fit. His companions, however, continued their gossip with clinical indifference. Are these people really my friends? he wondered.

“There is a common theory that once singles reach a certain age and start collecting pets, their marriage prospects are dead in the water.”

“He was doomed the moment he developed that obsession with pretty faces. You know how much the guy fixates on appearances.”

“I do not!” Isaac bellowed, only to be punished by an even fiercer wave of coughing. At this rate, he thought, I am actually going to die of this. He caught Kaiyan watching him and waved a frantic hand. “I’m serious. I’m just feeling under the weather. I will recover once I get home and get some sleep.”

“…”

Seeing the prince’s blank, unreadable stare—which clearly signaled he had no interest in Isaac’s health—Isaac mentally slapped a hand over his own mouth. Right. You are not the type to worry about me.

Unlike Isaac’s frail complexion, the prince looked robust. The full moon likely explained it; even with the disguise, a vibrant energy radiated from his frame, and his skin seemed to possess a literal glow.

“Black hair actually suits you, too…” Isaac muttered the thought aloud before he could check himself. It seemed that when a man possessed such inherently striking features, any look would suffice.

Kaiyan’s gaze shifted back to him.

Isaac flinched and clamped his mouth shut. “I did not mean anything by that. I just assumed you must get told you are handsome quite often.”

“I have never been told that.”

The prince’s reply was clipped, sharp as a whetted blade. A sudden, suffocating silence descended upon the group. Isaac and the information broker stood frozen, staring at Kaiyan in profound, unvarnished disbelief.

“Never? Not even once?”

“Never.”

Isaac nearly blurted out, You liar. But then, a dawning realization struck him.

It was entirely plausible that the man was being brutally honest. Perhaps no one possessed the sheer, reckless audacity to stand before a man of such stature and offer a frivolous, meaningless compliment. Yet, in that moment, Isaac felt exposed, as if he had either told a brazen lie or attempted a transparent, clumsy gambit to curry favor. He scratched the back of his head, his lips twitching into a self-deprecating mutter. “Well… for what it is worth, you are handsome.”

As anticipated, the prince’s expression remained an absolute, impenetrable void. He displayed not even a flicker of vanity. Only a single eyebrow arched, rising by a fraction of an inch—a gesture so subtle it might have been a trick of the candlelight.

The sight triggered an involuntary memory of their earlier, disastrous encounter, and Isaac scrambled to recover his composure. “That was purely an objective assessment, I assure you. I have no personal interest whatsoever. I also respect other people’s preferences. Deeply. I respect them very, very deeply.”

Isaac delivered the declaration with a deadpan, mask-like seriousness that left no room for doubt.

The information broker suddenly erupted in a fit of laughter. “Ha! You are an entertaining lad. Based on that uniform, are you with the royal palace guard?”

“I am. My name is Isaac.”

The broker’s mirth withered into an instant, brittle freeze. His forced smile faltered, and the rapid, erratic blinking of his eyes betrayed that he had finally identified the name of the man whose life he had so meticulously investigated. Sir, you have dug into my entire history, yet you didn’t even recognize my face?

Isaac maintained an expression of guileless cheer, reflecting the man’s stiff smile with one of his own. The broker masked his shock with practiced, professional speed.

“Ah, I see. Admirable work you are doing.”

“Hardly,” Isaac replied, his composure matching the broker’s, his smile just as practiced and hollow.

SWOOSH

Isaac suddenly sensed the corners of the prince’s eyes narrowing in subtle amusement. Realizing that his own professional facade had slipped, he hastily composed himself.

“Sir, did you leave a pair of shoes for repair?” the waitress called out from behind him.

Isaac turned to see the cobbler standing at her back with his shoes in hand. They were finally finished. It was perfect timing; he needed to leave before any more nonsense escaped his lips.

The three cats had polished off every scrap of meat on the table and were smacking their lips in feline satisfaction. Isaac gathered all three into the crook of one arm.

“I should be going, then. I apologize for the trouble my cats caused. I will pay for their food—”

“No, no. That is all right,” the information broker said, waving him off as though he, too, considered this an excellent opportunity to end the awkward encounter. “I was the one who fed them. Just make sure you do not starve the little things. Off you go.”

Isaac glanced at the prince, who offered no comment, bowed quickly, and turned away.

While he was at it, he told his colleagues that he felt ill and would be leaving early. Some shouted for him to get home safely, while others urged him to stay longer, but Isaac fired off a one-sided round of farewells and practically fled the tavern.

He continued walking at a brisk pace even after he emerged into the night air. He did not look back until he had safely left the alley and reached the main road.

Only after crossing another two alleys did he finally slow his stride, confirming that no one seemed to be following him, before coming to a complete halt.

His body felt heavy and languid. After all that frantic movement through the night, he was breathless and utterly exhausted. Isaac sank to the cold ground where he stood. Of all the places to run into him… He paused, a sudden thought occurring to him. Wait. I didn’t make any mistakes today, did I?

For no particular reason, a sharp pang of guilt prickled at him. He retraced the events of the evening carefully in his mind, then finally noticed the three creatures squirming in his arms and lowered his gaze.

The little beasts had eaten so much that they were licking their chops and belching openly. It was quite a sight.

「*Ahh, that was a fine meal. *」

「*I thought I was going to die from the lack of energy. I feel much better now. *」

「Goat really is the finest meat. The seasoning was a little strong, but it was acceptable. Smack, smack.」

“You should have stayed quietly at home instead of wandering around on a bright full-moon night, you witch-cats.”

While the cats had replenished their strength with succulent meat, Isaac’s own vigor had been completely drained.

They rolled their enormous, glittering eyes up at him.

「*We dragged our tired bodies all the way here because we feared our Muddlehead might collapse somewhere after going out on such a bright full-moon night. *」

「*You are grateful, yes? Of course you are. *」

「So from now on, you should serve us goat meat too.」

“Shut up. Do you know how expensive goat is? How could you gobble it down like that just because someone offered it to you, you shameless little bastards?”

Isaac flicked each of them on the nose with his fingernail. The cats hissed irritably.

「*What does it matter? That human is going to die soon anyway. *」

「Exactly. What use is it for a ghost to be well fed? We will live longer, so it is better for us to eat in his place.」

“What?”

Isaac stopped and raised his eyebrows. The cats licked their smacked noses and grumbled.

「*The shadow of death lies thick upon him. *」

「He will not live another month.」

“Who?”

「The one who gave us meat.」

The cats began chattering that the man had performed a good deed for them, so he would at least go to a warm corner of hell after he died. Isaac stared blankly at them.

The information broker.

He pictured the healthy-looking, utterly ordinary middle-aged man. Nothing about him had seemed remotely close to death. Isaac barely knew him, yet a cold emptiness opened somewhere in his chest.

Information work always carried danger. Anything might happen at any time, and the more capable an information broker was, the greater the risks he tended to face, not the lesser.

Isaac looked up at the night sky for a while, then quietly shook his head. Perhaps he ought to warn the man, even vaguely. No, he abandoned the thought. There was no sensible way to explain it.