Chapter 499

At the cold question, Hugo’s eyes twisted.

“...Leo.”

His lowered voice carried a deliberately stern edge.

Not knowing the person with whom he had shared his heart—if anything, that was an obstacle to the development of their relationship, and a truth he had never wanted to have confirmed. And yet the very one who caused it now pushed him away, using it as a means of rebuttal while claiming he wanted to know. It would be a lie to say it did not sting.

“You ask what gives me such certainty? That I don’t even remember? Fine. You’ve brought it up at the perfect time.”

It was only natural that something subtle would creep into his refined brows and low voice.

“You’re right—I don’t know everything about you. Sometimes I even wonder if there’s anything I truly know at all. If one day you were to suddenly disappear, I can’t even be certain I would ever find you again.”

The meaning beneath his words cut deep, yet the tone was colder than anything Leonardo had heard from him recently. The corner of Leonardo’s lips faltered.

Whatever response he had prepared with wounded pride became useless. In the man’s gaze—usually so composed—there was a hollow emptiness he had never seen before.

“You asked why I came. You said that if it wasn’t for that purpose, I could have met you later.”

Repeating Leonardo’s own words back to him, Hugo stepped forward despite there being no space to close. Their feet overlapped, the outer edge of one shoe brushing the inner side of the other. The pressure where their thighs pressed faintly together sent a sharp awareness through both of them. Neither could pretend not to feel it.

“I don’t know what you meant by ‘purpose,’ but if you think I intended to unsettle you and your team, you’re mistaken. If that had truly been my intention, I wouldn’t have waited for them to leave. I would have simply kissed you in front of them.”

“...What?”

“I wouldn’t have bothered with some half-hearted imitation of a gentleman. There was something else that mattered more to me.”

Hugo, who had never once revealed his emotions so plainly in his life, wavered precariously between the reason trying to regain composure and the surge of sincerity flooding in. Leonardo, though caught off guard by his words and behavior, glimpsed agitation within those blue eyes that matched his own.

He seemed to be baring his inner thoughts, but in truth, he was lamenting the loss of his own control. As if proving it, a breath-like murmur slipped from his lips.

“...I felt like I had to see you today.”

The way his eyes closed and opened slowly, the low voice—it all carried something fragile.

The sharpness in Leonardo’s gaze softened for a moment.

“...Why?”

“We met in the past. And you remember that moment.”

The fingers still inside the cuff of the glove took advantage of the opening and wrapped fully around the warmth of his hand. The hand that had been pushed away from his lips now rose to his cheek, flushed from the heat of the mining site.

“If you recognized me even from a fleeting moment we barely shared, how could I not come to you?”

As he spoke, his gaze and touch trailed along Leonardo’s neckline, settling at the collar of the magic uniform he wore. Despite having just finished the match, his appearance was impeccably neat. Even so, Hugo smoothed the fabric, straightening what little had been disturbed.

Under that disjointed mixture of tone and action, Leonardo, who had stood stiff, finally managed to speak.

“...Is that important to you?”

“Of course it is. You might have been waiting.”

Leonardo, meeting those blue eyes, pressed his lips shut. His gaze dropped, guarded against revealing too much. He forced down the part of himself that was already beginning to soften just from hearing those words. Hugo tilted his head, following him, entangling their eyes again.

“I may not know everything about you, but it’s not as though I gained nothing from the time we spent together. You are particularly sensitive to waiting, and when you close your heart, your tone turns cold. You carry too many thoughts to act without reason. So if you chose to wear the clothes I gave you... it means there was some change in your state of mind.”

Leonardo’s golden eyes dropped unconsciously to what he was wearing. The ivory magic uniform now fit his body, filled out with muscle and flesh. It was the garment Hugo had given him as a promise of the day he would regain his freedom after release.

To Leonardo, it was a deeply symbolic token.

“That assumption led me here. Though not in a very positive way. You always wore that when you were about to leave me.”

At those words, his golden lashes lifted sharply. He had never imagined that the symbol he kept for himself held the same meaning for this man as well.

“No—”

He moved to deny it instinctively, but before the words could come, he caught sight of Hugo’s expression. A deep shadow lay over his eyes, tinged with impatience and bitterness.

Even so, that large hand gently brushed back the hair that had fallen across Leonardo’s forehead, as if unwilling to lose their shared gaze.

“You whisper softly when it suits you, but last night, even the voice you spoke to me with was cold. Am I wrong? Hmm?”

The large man asked, almost coaxing. It did not suit him—and that made it all the more disarming. Only then did Leonardo understand why Hugo had come to him in such haste.

Fragments of moments when this man had worn such an expression before flickered through his mind.

Did he think I was going to leave?

When he had tried to flee atop that great tree on the peninsula. And again, when they stood before the sealed departure hall, exchanging their final farewell.

Thinking back on what he had been wearing then, it had been the same clothes both times. Though the latter had been remade in imitation of the former, the intent behind the gift had been to replace it—so in truth, they were the same.

Which meant that this perceptive duke had taken even his smallest bit of spite this seriously. The roles from just a few months ago had reversed completely. Just because his tone had been a little cold. Just because he had chosen to wear those clothes. Watching this man, who had clearly agonized over his state of mind, Leonardo felt something strange stirring within him.

After a moment of reflection, Leonardo let out a deliberately dry, quiet laugh. Then, narrowing his eyes, he finally forced the words out.

“You’re really an idiot.”

Hugo’s brow twitched faintly. It was likely the first time in his life he had ever heard such a thing.

Leonardo tapped his chest lightly with the back of his hand.

“Whether you’re leaving or not... wearing the clothes someone gave you means you wanted to show it to them.”

“......”

“You got up, washed, got ready, and put it on piece by piece. That means you were paying attention—thinking about it. Wouldn’t you want to see how the person who gave it reacts? Do I really have to spell that out for you?”

Frowning as he spoke, Leonardo abruptly turned his head away.

“You notice everything, but when it comes to this...”

His words trailed off in embarrassment. This man was impossible—but what was he doing, talking like this so eagerly?

The resentment and unease from the previous night rose up again in his chest, only to begin melting away on their own. It was his own emotions, yet even he could not grasp them.

With every word from the other man, he was dragged between heaven and hell. That old dynamic of dominance and submission, formed long ago, was as irritating and exhausting as ever. It was only natural that a frustrated sigh escaped him.

“I—”

Rubbing at his furrowed brow, Leonardo bit down on his lip and held himself back.

When he had first heard that opening line through the communication device, the truth was that his breath had nearly stopped from the surge of hope that Hugo might remember. But it had only lasted a moment. What Hugo had brought him was only a fragment of memory—or rather, nothing more than the suspicion that they might have met before.

The greater his expectation had been, the deeper the disappointment that followed.

If he had simply resigned himself, there would have been no disappointment. But now that there was hope that Hugo might remember, he found himself wanting to indulge in childish resentment. Hearing even those fragments spoken aloud by Hugo stirred emotions he had long buried deep within his chest.

Those feelings looked back on the days he had clung to the possibility that they might have been something more, and the long loneliness he had endured with nowhere to place it.

As if demanding that the weight of his waiting be understood.

But he did not want to say any of that himself.

Leonardo stared at the small distance remaining between them, then let out something like a sigh.

“They say the Duke of Agrizend is a genius without equal, a brilliant ruler.”

Instead, he glanced sideways at the man’s chest. His palm came up, resting against it.

“Looks like it’s all lies. You don’t understand anything.”

Feeling the strong heartbeat spreading beneath his hand, he slipped the jacket aside and pulled out the neatly arranged navy tie beneath. Wrapping the strip of fabric around his fingers, he yanked it sharply toward himself.

It happened in an instant, too fast for Hugo to react.

Pulled off balance, his cheek tilted—and soft lips brushed against it. A kiss so quiet it made no sound. In contrast to his sharp gaze, the breath that touched his skin was almost innocent.