In his previous life... what had that man’s thirtieth birthday been like? Had he forgotten it, too? Or had he remembered, somehow, and sent everyone away to spend it alone?

No matter how hard he tried, the farthest Yuder could recall was that the time had been right around when Kishiar had taken over as the new Commander—so things were hectic, busy, and chaotic. He couldn’t even remember clearly whether Kishiar had been in the capital or in Peleta back then. Kachian had once mentioned that there had been no one around him, and Yuder could only assume that was true.

Back then, he hadn’t wanted to know. And after that, he’d never been particularly curious. So why—why now—did it weigh so heavily on him?

He already knew the answer. But that only made it more frustrating. A complicated emotion swelled in his chest, and he let out a sigh.

Kishiar, sitting across from him, seemed genuinely satisfied with the present. And yet, Yuder couldn’t bring himself to let things end this way. That cold, piercing sensation in his chest refused to be ignored anymore.

But what exactly... what should he do?

“—Yuder?”

Yuder, deep in thought, flinched slightly at the sound. He lifted his head and met the red eyes watching him.

Ah... damn.

He instinctively knew: the emotion he’d just felt had reached Kishiar too.

Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—the carriage came to a stop, and Nathan Zuckerman climbed in. The moment passed, and the conversation didn’t continue.

Yuder quickly forced himself to stop thinking, not wanting another slip-up like that to happen again.

“...So, you came straight here after you got out?”

Inon asked with an incredulous face, dividing ground herbs into small paper packets.

“Yeah.”

“The Commander didn’t stop you?”

“I said I wanted to see you. He didn’t say anything. We’re leaving tomorrow morning anyway, so it’s not that strange, is it?”

“Tch. Yeah. Just brilliant, really—fantastic.”

The tone left no doubt: it was not a compliment.

Yuder silently sat beside Inon. In the cluttered room, where medicinal ingredients were always scattered about, he spotted a small travel bag tucked in the corner.

“You’ve just been packing and prepping herbs this whole time?”

“Yeah. Kid’s gotta stay here alone while I’m gone. I plan to come back quick, but just in case, I’m doing what I can.”

Inon hadn’t come to the palace like the other members. Neither had Lusan. Both had made it clear they didn’t want to be recognized or rewarded, and Kishiar had respected that.

Inon said he didn’t want attention, and Lusan the priest didn’t want his actions treated as personal merit—he’d acted under divine will.

Still, that didn’t mean they’d get nothing. Yuder guessed that after their leave, there would be significant improvements to the medical unit's resources and personnel. That would help them more in the long run anyway.

Inon finally finished dividing the powder into what looked like a hundred small slips of paper. All that remained was folding them. Since Inon always handled the powdering himself, Yuder didn’t touch that—but folding the paper, he figured, was fair game.

He reached out and began folding the small papers, each barely a fraction the size of his hand.

“Hold up. That’s tricky—don’t mess it up or I’ll—... huh?”

Inon had started to protest, but then blinked, raising his eyebrows as he watched Yuder’s swift, practiced folding.

“...You’re pretty good at that? Where’d you learn—ah.”

He stopped mid-sentence, realization dawning.

Where else could Yuder have learned something like this, if not from Inon in his previous life?

Yuder blinked lazily and replied in a monotone.

“‘Back then.’”

Inon was quiet for a while. When the pile of folded papers in front of Yuder exceeded ten, he finally spoke again.

“Doesn’t it... bother you?”

“What?”

“That you remember everything, but the people around you don’t. It can’t feel good, being the only one who knows.”

Does it?

Yuder paused, thinking. Then shook his head.

“Not really.”

“Because things are better now?”

“That, too. But... I didn’t really have any memories worth sentimentally sharing with others to begin with. Even this—I only learned it because I offered to pay you for saving my life, and you said that was arrogant and told me to fold ten thousand of these instead.”

It had been right after Inon had saved his life. Yuder, deeming it a waste of time, had tried to refuse. But Inon had stubbornly insisted that he wouldn’t accept anything else in return. The standoff had ended with Yuder giving in, not wanting to resort to unnecessary violence against someone who had saved him.

Of course, folding ten thousand herbal packets took a very long time. He could’ve used his powers to finish quickly, but Inon had forbidden it. So Yuder had to return again and again, folding them by hand. It was one of the rare stretches of time in Yudrain Aile’s life that flowed slowly, inefficiently.

Back then, I even suspected Inon of being a foreign spy trying to lull me into a false sense of security after figuring out my identity.

But in the apothecary, while folding paper, he’d seen what kind of man Inon truly was—a ridiculous but genuine person who helped others. His words were harsh, but he gave medicine freely to the poor, and sometimes seemed like an old man who knew every corner of the capital despite his youthful face. Even the worst thugs from the slums never dared touch Inon’s shop. It was as though the law and all unspoken rules dissolved at its threshold.

And so, even after death and return, Yuder still remembered how to fold those medicinal slips without mistake.

Inon nodded slowly, understanding.

“That happened the first time we met? What got you injured, anyway?”

“A mission.”

Inon clicked his tongue and leaned back.

“A mission, huh. So the ‘Emperor’ from ‘then’ sent you? The one you said you met today—the Crown Prince guy?”

Yuder had already given Inon a rough summary of what had happened, so he knew what Kachian had gone through.

“Yeah.”

“Fucking bastard probably used his subordinates like street kids kicking rocks. Typical. But you—why the hell did you, with your temper, take that kind of shit?!”

Inon exploded. Yuder paused his folding and let a small smile ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ curl at the edge of his mouth.

“Because I thought that was what I had to do. Back then. Not anymore, though.”

Inon muttered a few curses under his breath, then sighed.

“Hah... well, at least you know better now. So... what is it? Why’d you come all the way here? What do you want from me?”

The point, huh...

Yuder looked down at the neatly folded papers in his hand, his fingers still moving.

“...Inon. You’ve met a lot of people, right?”

“Lived long enough, sure. I’ve met a fair few. What kind of answer are you fishing for?”

“What... do you think you’re supposed to do for someone’s birthday?”

Inon froze. His folding stopped mid-crease. He rubbed one ear, then squinted suspiciously at Yuder.

“...Sorry, did something just crawl into my ear? What did you say?”

“I asked: what do people usually do for birthdays?”

“Shit. So my ears are working fine.”

Inon swore loudly. It was enough to make Yuder worry about waking Lusan in the next room.

“You’re seriously asking me that? You think I celebrate people’s birthdays? Hell, if you’re asking because of your Commander’s birthday, shouldn’t you be talking to someone else? Like Kachien Bollenvalt or Kanna Wand?”

Apparently Inon had finally memorized their names properly—proof that he’d grown attached during the time in the South.

Yuder let him rant, then responded quietly.

“Kachien and Kanna respect the Commander. They don’t dislike him, but they see him as someone far above. I wouldn’t get the answer I’m looking for from them. But you’re different.”

“...”

“Inon. Just to be sure—are you intimidated by the Commander?”

“Me? Scared of him?!”

Inon burst out in outrage.

“Royal or not, he’s just some damn kid to me! Intimidated? Please. If I was, would I have said yes when you asked to bring him to Gillandre Hill?”

Before the visit to the palace, Yuder had asked if Inon would be okay with Kishiar coming along to the hill. He had expected a sharp reaction, but Inon had just shrugged and agreed without question. He clearly wasn’t the slightest bit intimidated.

“That’s why I’m asking.”

Hearing Yuder’s calm reply, Inon groaned, grabbing his head.

“Gods... how the hell did I end up in this mess...”