Chapter 63

Time moved forward, indifferent to his situation.

Through a narrow gap in his heavy blankets, he saw the pale sliver of dawn and realized it was time to get up. His body felt terrible, and the lingering warmth of the bedding made the idea of moving seem like an enormous effort.

He wanted nothing more than to stay in bed, but he knew the longer he stayed, the more painful it would be to get up.

GRUNT.

Isaac forced himself upright with a sharp grunt. He shot a resentful look at the three cats lounging beside his pillow, their predatory eyes fixed on the same luminous full moon that troubled him.

Why am I, despite having half a witch’s blood, so miserably sluggish, while these creatures remain perfectly lively?

「Muddlehead is looking at us with a truly unpleasant expression,」 one of the cats said, its tone dripping with feline disdain.

「It is nothing more than a pathetic mix of jealousy, envy, and resentment—all of it utterly futile,」 another replied.

“Why are you three so inexplicably energetic during the full moon?” Isaac demanded, his voice raspy.

「Energetic? We have been suffering since the day before yesterday. Our bones ache with the intensity of a thousand needle pricks. Stop your blathering and cook us some goat-meat porridge,」 they retorted.

Isaac ignored their sharp demands and examined them more closely. Their tongues were still as acidic as ever, but their movements were sluggish; they were clearly struggling with their own exhaustion. “At least today should pass without incident. Lord Kaiyan is in unusually fine form, and the Roverni’s witch will be forced to remain dormant during the height of the full moon.”

He dragged his heavy limbs out of bed. The Roverni’s witch had vanished after infiltrating the young magician’s body, leaving her whereabouts a total mystery. From her perspective, staying buried deep within the host to wait out the storm was the most prudent strategy. Still, Isaac remained on high alert, anticipating a strike.

But today was the full moon, and as a witch herself, her vitality would be severely compromised. He allowed himself a moment to breathe. Though his muscles ached, his spirit felt a fraction lighter as he crossed toward the washroom.

Once he was out of earshot, the cats drew their heads into a tight, conspiratorial circle.

「Our Muddlehead truly earns his name. The boy is hopelessly naive.」

「Indeed. On a night like this, a witch’s consciousness retreats into the shadows, allowing the young magician’s own psyche to swell with overwhelming force.」

「And let us not forget the spells that reflect an opponent’s power back upon their own soul. The stronger the assailant, the more devastating the recoil.」

「Why is our little Muddlehead so painfully ignorant of such basic truths?」

They muttered their criticisms of the clueless boy for some time, until a heavy, collective silence descended. They released a synchronized sigh, a sound so profound it seemed to pull the very ground beneath them.

「Alas… It appears there is no rest for the wicked. 」

They hung their heads, defeated.

***

Isaac stood still by the window, observing the sky as it darkened.

Inside the reception room, the prince lingered over his tea. Once Kaiyan finished, Isaac’s shift would officially start. The horizon still displayed the bruised hues of evening, but an impatient moon had already risen high above the distant peaks. It was a beautiful yet haunting full moon.

Time had passed with unsettling speed. Each transition from the new moon to the full moon felt like the closing of a chapter. It seemed as though he had just made his New Year’s wish, yet the heat of summer had already faded, leaving the air crisp and cool.

In two or three more lunar cycles, the season of deep, bone-chilling cold would arrive, followed closely by the Great New Moon. Time was slipping away.

As the days dwindled, the cats’ impatience grew more intense. They had started to harass him relentlessly, demanding to know why he hadn’t come up with a plan to secure the tinderbox. The Great New Moon occurred only once every seven years. If he missed this opportunity, he would be bound to these creatures for nearly a decade. The thought made his skin crawl.

“Ugh…” Isaac shuddered, shaking his head to clear the intrusive anxiety. A few months of this chaotic, dissonant life was more than he could endure.

His gaze shifted to the three cats perched fearlessly on the prince’s windowsill. Three rounded backsides sat in a neat, rhythmic row, looking exactly as they did on nights when they reminisced about their lost home in the Land of the New Moon. They spoke of parents, siblings, and friends—a litany of things they cherished. Then, the silence would return, and they would simply stare, yearning, at the lunar disk. Whenever Isaac witnessed their quiet longing, a sharp, heavy tenderness pierced his heart.

Yes. This year, during the Great New Moon, I will send you all home.

But how?

The question tasted like ash. With the Great New Moon practically upon them, every passing hour felt like a countdown to failure. How could he possibly extract the tinderbox from the king’s treasury in this timeframe? He lacked a path to merit, a guarantee of success, and, most cruelly, the time. Isaac could tear his hair out until he was bald, and still, no viable alternative presented itself.

“Perhaps I truly have no choice but to tunnel beneath the foundations and pilfer it,” he whispered to the night air.

Isaac sighed heavily, shifting his gaze toward the reception room. Beyond the feline silhouettes, his eyes suddenly locked with those of the prince.

Isaac froze.

Kaiyan surveyed him with indifferent eyes before shifting his focus to the table clock. Realizing his shift had commenced, Isaac hurried inside. The prince appeared in excellent health, his mood relatively stable. While being a few seconds late likely wouldn’t summon a bolt of royal lightning, caution remained the wisest course. At Blue Shadow Palace, one never knew what trifle might trigger the storm.

He entered the room and relieved the guard. He took his position beside a pillar, facing the prince. Kaiyan had nearly finished his tea, but he promptly poured another cup.

This is not a favorable position, Isaac thought, his pulse quickening. When the prince occupied the desk, Isaac could linger in the periphery, avoiding direct engagement. Now, with Kaiyan lounging on the sofa, Isaac was forced into his direct line of sight. It was agonizingly intimate—especially given the sight of the servant currently knelt at the prince’s feet, face buried in Kaiyan’s lap. The servant worked with diligent, rhythmic focus, occasionally gagging as he took the prince deep into his throat.

Kaiyan’s expression remained utterly blank, radiating a boredom so profound it bordered on the insulting; he likely would have shown more genuine emotion during a routine foot massage. As Isaac grappled with this grotesque display, the prince suddenly spoke: “What did you intend to steal?”

“What?” Isaac blurted, his mind going blank before the memory of his own muttered thoughts hit him like a physical blow. He flinched. Did he hear that? “There are a great many desirable things in this world, but I assure you, I do not genuinely intend to steal anything.”

The cats rolled their eyes in weary displeasure, their tails thumping a rhythmic, agitated beat against the windowsill. Isaac ignored them, maintaining a rigid posture and a mask of studied solemnity.

Kaiyan watched him, tilting his head with a predatory curiosity. “What is it you truly desire?” he asked.

“A modest existence, perhaps. A charming house, some healthy chickens, and a devoted wife—the simple necessities for a peaceful life,” Isaac replied, his voice flat and mechanical, his expression unchanging.

Kaiyan scrutinized him, rubbing his chin slowly. “Is your salary truly so meager that you cannot afford such trivialities?”

“The compensation for officials has always been notoriously poor, Your Highness,” Isaac responded, his tone unwavering despite feeling the weight of Kaiyan’s piercing blue eyes dissecting him. It was an invasive scrutiny, yet he held his gaze steady, refusing to look away or betray his inner turmoil. He knew better than to lower his eyes.

“I see. If I recall correctly, you once hoped to secure a reward through distinguished service,” Kaiyan murmured, seemingly to himself, while his gaze remained fixed on Isaac.

The silence stretched, heavy and inscrutable, until a bead of sweat trickled down Isaac’s neck, threatening his composure.

THUMP.

Without a word, the prince set his teacup aside, reached down, seized the servant buried at his groin, and shoved his head further downward. A muffled, choked sound escaped the man’s throat as Kaiyan drove himself deep, gripping the servant’s hair with a ruthless rhythm. Despite the agony of choking, the servant continued to work his tongue, desperate to please.

THRUST. THRUST. THRUST.

With each forceful thrust, wet, rhythmic sounds mingled with the man’s strangled gasps. The pace quickened.

Isaac stood frozen, his head held unnaturally high. Though the spectacle was within his peripheral vision, he purposefully unfocused his sight, striving to blur the visceral details. The prince’s unwavering, piercing gaze was his only anchor—a terrifying point of focus that kept him from unraveling.

Tonight was the full moon, the night when Kaiyan’s vitality reached its peak. By the time Isaac arrived at the Blue Shadow Palace, the servant was already mid-act. He had clearly swallowed the prince’s release multiple times, yet struggled to appease a hunger that refused to dissipate. His mouth appeared numb, his jaw slack and paralyzed from the exertion.

Saliva, tears, sweat, and the prince’s essence coated his face and neck, soaking into his clothes. Isaac felt a profound, wordless pity, tempered by a primal fear of the prince’s inhuman stamina. Even at the height of the full moon, Kaiyan showed no signs of flagging.

Beneath that relentless stare, Isaac could not so much as twitch a finger. This had become his new, harrowing reality. Kaiyan had once been quiet, but recently, he had resumed selecting attractive servants to satisfy his base desires with punishing frequency.

It was a familiar pattern, yet there was one agonizing variable: Isaac was always required to stay and witness the aftermath. Kaiyan would not allow him to flee or turn away, demanding that Isaac stand there, an unwilling audience to his degradation. It was little wonder these scenes haunted his dreams every night.

“Ngh…!”

Kaiyan suddenly shoved the servant’s head deeper, eliciting a sharp, animalistic cry of strangulation. The servant’s shoulders heaved, his throat convulsing repeatedly to swallow, yet the fluid still spilled from his lips.

In that moment, Isaac met the prince’s narrowing gaze directly. A strange, phantom heat blossomed deep within him—a confusing sensation that defied definition. It was not mere arousal, nor was it simple humiliation; it felt as though the roles were reversed, as if he were the one kneeling in the shadow of that groin.

Those eyes. Those cursed dreams. This is becoming dangerous. If this continues, it will be truly troublesome.

As Isaac sank into his own turmoil, Kaiyan finally reached his limit. With a grunt of satisfaction, he shoved the servant away. The man stumbled back, his face a ruin of fluids, while Kaiyan calmly straightened his robes and stood, as composed as if he had merely finished a mundane task.

It shocked Isaac every time—the sheer, effortless indifference with which the prince could shed his passion. Kaiyan remained as stone-faced after the act as he had been during it, his brow barely knitting in a moment of fleeting intensity.

Kaiyan glanced toward the window. The sky had bruised into the deep indigo of night. He took something from the table and walked toward the sill.

The three cats, which had been lounging, immediately sat upright, their hindquarters twitching with electric anticipation. Kaiyan indifferently tossed them strips of soft, dried goat jerky. The creatures rolled their enormous eyes in a frenzy of affection, purring with manic delight.

Isaac watched them, his feelings fractured. For reasons unknown to him, the prince had recently begun coddling these three beasts. He had even learned their preferences, now providing them with roasted goat or jerky.

Just a while ago, after eating meat marinated in wine, the cats had spent hours rolling across the floor in a feline, drug-like ecstasy. Kaiyan had watched them, murmuring, “Their tastes are remarkably witchlike.” Since then, he had even begun giving them wine.

They are literally witches. And here you are, feeding these foul-tempered monsters such high-quality delicacies.

Isaac dared not utter the thought. Perhaps sensing the scrutiny, Kaiyan pivoted to face him. “Is there something you wish to say?”

“…No, Your Highness. Nothing at all.”

No matter how much he loathed the creatures, they had shared this space for months; he could not simply stand by and watch them die. Besides, he knew they would never perish alone. Kaiyan continued to study him, a silent invitation to speak hanging in the air.

Meanwhile, the shameless cats finished their treat and licked Kaiyan’s fingertips, brazenly earning themselves another piece.

Isaac turned away, his voice stumbling as he blurted out, “I would prefer it if you didn’t look at me.”

Kaiyan froze, his gaze locking onto Isaac.

A flicker of immediate regret washed over Isaac, but it was too late.

“Look at what?”

“…When you are satisfying your desires. I would prefer that you do not look at me.”

“Why?”

“It is… embarrassing.”

“Why?”