The place he was led to by the servant was mysterious.

Since they were guided through a different door than the entrance, he expected it would lead to a cozy courtyard. Instead, it was the opposite. The true value of this villa was not the exterior seen from outside, but the outdoor space located within the structure itself.

Following the pristine white carpet he almost feared to step on, the first thing that entered his sight was the central plaza. Six finely carved stone pillars stood spaced apart there. At their center sat today’s dining table covered with a pure white cloth.

The servants finished arranging silver candlesticks, decorative flowers, and the last of the tableware before quietly withdrawing. Leonardo slowed his steps briefly, gazing at the hydrangeas and baby’s breath mingling together.

The guide walking ahead turned back and gestured toward the table with an open palm, as if presenting the way.

“This way, please.”

Slightly tense, Leonardo straightened his clothes and walked slowly forward, his eyes darting around to scan the surroundings.

He hadn’t expected the dining area to be outdoors — yet in some ways it also felt indoors.

The reason was the semicircular architecture enclosing the surroundings in a concave embrace. The two-story Romanesque structure of white and gray formed an arc around the circular plaza. What was strange was that the open face of the arc did not face the gate but instead turned its back to it.

It felt like the intent of the one who commissioned it — to sever outside noise and create another world within for complete rest. Perhaps for that reason, beyond the wide plaza stretched a magnificent lake in the direction the curved building faced.

Endless waves curved around the remaining half of the plaza. The open view drew a deep breath from Leonardo. The lake, gleaming with absorbed moonlight, held both pitch darkness and scattered light at once. And before it stood the back of a tall man in a white shirt.

Changed again.

Dressed in a classic, dandy style, he stood with hands behind his back, gazing distantly across the lake.

The deep indigo sky met the horizon and settled above the man’s head.

Just as Leonardo was drawn toward him as if enchanted, the guide spoke again.

“Please watch your step.”

“Ah—”

Leonardo halted and looked down. The plaza floor rippled like waves. At first he thought it was glass reflecting the dark sky, but shallow water actually covered glossy blue-gray tiles.

There was about a five-centimeter drop, and standing on the carpet, Leonardo instinctively stepped back. But the guide, two steps ahead, already stood atop the rippling surface — more precisely, on the water.

“You won’t get wet, so there is no need to worry.”

Walking on water? Doubtful, he stepped forward. A soft undulation wrapped around the soles of his shoes. Strangely, his feet did not get wet, nor did he sink.

Carefully moving ahead, it felt like walking along a smooth sandy shore as waves washed in.

Around then the villa’s owner sensed his presence and turned.

“You’ve come.”

Looking up at Hugo, Leonardo couldn’t help holding his breath. As if freshly washed, the man’s bangs — usually neatly swept back — had fallen over his forehead.

After sitting in the chair the duke personally pulled out for him, Leonardo only fidgeted his hands beneath the table in awkwardness. He touched his nape and looked elsewhere, finding it strangely hard to meet his eyes, as though sitting before a stranger.

Usually only one shirt button was undone — now two were. Because of that, the marks Leonardo had left were far more visible than before. Only then did he slowly accept that the man he’d desired in the darkness and the one before his eyes were the same person.

He wondered whether it was proper to show such a state before servants, but silence about the duke’s private life was likely their duty.

Setting aside the worry, Leonardo’s attention was drawn again to the slightly damp navy hair and his more relaxed attire. His gaze fixed on Hugo flipping through a liquor list while he unconsciously speared thinly sliced chilled [N O V E L I G H T] octopus with his fork.

Still upright yet subtly loosened, he looked gentler than usual — even younger. Enough to want to call him older brother.

What kind of expression will he make.

Would he be embarrassed? Flustered? Or call him insolent? Either way, he anticipated the reaction.

Resting his chin on his hand and stealing glances, Leonardo suddenly stopped the teasing fork.

But didn’t he just wash? Why separately?

As he wondered at the faint scent of soap, another appetizer plate arrived. Several wines were offered, and he considered borrowing the strength of alcohol, but just then Hugo shook his head.

“You’re not fully recovered yet, so avoid alcohol for a day or two. How about juice instead?”

He poured freshly squeezed orange juice into a crystal glass. Meanwhile, he naturally drank a strong liquor whose ethanol scent hit the moment it was opened, occasionally mixing in a black liquid from a finger-sized vial brought by a servant.

“What’s that?”

Trying to ease the awkwardness, Leonardo asked lightly. Hugo lowered the glass he’d been about to drink from, swirled it, and answered.

“You could say it’s similar to medicine.”

“Medicine? Are you sick?”

Leonardo asked quickly, concern visible. Hugo let out a small laugh at the transparent reaction.

“No illness you need to worry about. Even if there were, it’s something everyone carries. Still, it feels nice to be worried over.”

“...Something everyone carries? What is it?”

“Hmm, nothing clear comes to mind immediately... Let’s call it worries needed to live wisely in this world.”

One of Leonardo’s eyebrows lifted. Even his worries were refined.

“Or the fatigue that comes from restraining instincts and pushing oneself.”

“...So you have a lot of stress?”

“Not severe. Nothing problematic. A life without worries or stress would be peaceful — but I consider it no different from being dead.”

Saying so, Hugo again wet his throat with liquor.

“A life without obstacles dulls the joy that follows endurance. Even if it’s not true, humans must believe it to endure each day. The reason I find this moment sitting with you particularly enjoyable is because it is a sweet freedom encountered within a life of responsibility and duty. Well? Does that answer you?”

His words sounded oddly like a riddle, unlike him. Not entirely satisfying either. But Leonardo narrowed his eyes and asked the one thing he wanted clarified.

“Are you happy because you met me, or because it’s a moment of freedom?”

After emptying his golden glass, Hugo drank water, wiped his lips with the edge of a napkin, and answered with a faint smile.

“Leo, for me those two cannot be separated.”

Leonardo blinked, then laughter escaped him far too easily for his pride.

The softened atmosphere quickly led to another topic.

He’d wanted to interrogate him in detail in case of health issues, but the duke’s tact let it pass — and that was fine. My freedom came from you, but in your life I am freedom? The joy after endurance? Leaning forward with both arms on the table, Leonardo focused entirely on him, ignoring the beautiful surroundings.

As a servant brought the prepared octopus dish, Hugo picked up a cutting fork and knife. Since Leonardo had said he wanted it, he carefully cut it himself, then served it onto Leonardo’s plate with a large spoon.

“Rather than me, I’m worried about you.”

The direction of the arrow reversed.

“How have you been? There’s much I want to hear.”

He placed food onto his own plate as well.

“Where you stayed, whether you were watching me, and why you appeared before me again — I’m curious.”

His calm tone held unspoken longing. Leonardo wondered where to begin and how much he could say. Then he realized there was almost nothing he could tell.

“Uh....”

He wanted to chatter casually like sharing daily life over a pleasant meal, but everything about him had to remain secret.

Meeting Nero before Solia’s grave, the noble faction’s uprising, the collar, the ultimate reason for entering the League — the Cardo ore prize needed to purge the imperial faction.

His lips moved, yet no words came before the plate was set before him.

Instead, wanting to share at least something he’d seen, he searched clumsily for a safe topic.

“So... I went to a strange old castle...”

Since no one could easily access that dreamlike place, perhaps it was safe to talk a little.

As his lips finally opened after swallowing secrets all this time, Hugo leaned forward to listen as well.

Over his shoulder, one of the scattered stone pillars entered Leonardo’s view for just a moment.

Atop it sat a statue — and only then did he realize it was shaped like a turtle.