The metallic clatter of chains echoed like a cruel bell in the darkness.
Kael's eyes snapped open.
Cold stone. Damp air. A narrow room with cracked walls.
His ankle pulled—chhk—and he realized the chain was locked around his leg.
This place… this scent… this nightmare—
This is my past.
His breath trembled. His arm ached. When he looked down, dark purple bruises bloomed across his skin—needle marks, dozens of them, swollen, angry, painful.
Every twitch of muscle made him groan softly.
"It… hurts…"
The child Kael whimpered—the voice in this dream so small, fragile, and desperate.
From outside his cell, loud voices erupted.
"He didn't give enough blood today!"
"Didn't you feed him properly?! He needs meat—MEAT—to replenish it!"
"I gave him plenty! How should I know if the brat actually eats it!"
Two guardians shouted at each other, their voices filled not with worry—but irritation. As if discussing livestock.
"Lord David will be furious if we fail again!"
"That noble has no patience… if only the curse child weren't so frail—"
Kael curled in on himself, trembling.
Lord David.
That name hit him harder than the chains.
He remembered the man's false smile, gentle hand patting his head—while behind that mask he allowed this suffering. Allowed the guardians to bleed him dry day after day.
Kind voice… cruel heart.
The argument outside stopped.
Footsteps. Heavy. Approaching.
Kael froze.
The key rattled. The door creaked open.
Two men entered—faces cold, eyes dull. No sympathy. No hesitation. Their hands grabbed his thin arms and yanked.
He cried out.
"A-ah—! Let me go! It hurts!"
Their fingers pressed right into the bruises where the needles had been. His scream only annoyed them.
"Quiet."
"Stop struggling, curse child."
Kael's feet dragged across the stone floor. The hallway smelled of iron and rot.
Then—
BOOM!
A violent explosion shook the entire building. Dust fell from the ceiling. The guardians spun around in panic.
"What was that?!"
"Someone's attacking—!"
Before they could react again—another explosion ripped through the wall directly in front of them.
CRACK—CRASH!!
Stone, debris, and wood collapsed over them.
Kael's world turned upside down.
He felt himself buried under rubble—the weight pinning him down, crushing his lungs. Pain shot through him as something sharp pierced his stomach. A hot pool of blood spread beneath him.
He gasped, choking.
Smoke burned his eyes.
Screams filled the burning halls.
He clawed weakly at the rubble.
His hands shook. The bruises screamed.
But he pushed. Again and again.
Finally, he pulled himself out, dragging his bleeding body across the floor.
Chaos consumed the orphanage.
Children ran—some crying, some screaming. Guardians fought desperately. Fire roared, devouring the building.
And then Kael saw him.
Through the flames—
A kid with crimson hair and bright red eyes, hand blazing with uncontrolled fire.
His aura crackled violently. Magic surged wild around him. His laughter was manic, desperate, filled with torment.
Another explosion tore through a wall as the boy slammed his burning fist into it.
Kael flinched—but something else stirred inside him.
He's… like me.
A victim.
A prisoner.
A child used and abused by cruel adults.
Kael stumbled toward the fleeing group of children, following them through the collapsing corridor, but his steps slowed—his blood dripping onto the floor with every heavy step.
He stopped at the edge of the forest.
Then—
A weak shuffle behind him.
He turned.
The fiery-haired boy staggered toward him—body wounded, face pale, magic flickering around him uncontrollably. He looked barely conscious.
Kael's heart tightened.
Slowly… painfully… he walked back toward him.
His bloody hand lifted.
The boy stared at him, stunned.
"Let's… go… away from this hell…"
Kael's voice trembled with both fear and kindness.
The boy blinked. His fire dimmed.
"I hurt you…"
His voice cracked.
"Why… why are you kind to me?"
Kael smiled—a soft, broken smile stained with blood.
"We're… victims… This isn't what we wished for…"
The boy's gaze wavered. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out—his trembling, burnt fingers inching toward Kael's outstretched hand.
Their fingertips almost touched.
Almost.
Kh—!
A wet cough burst from the boy's lips.
Both boys froze.
Their eyes dropped—
A blade protruded from the boy's chest.
A knife.
Driven clean through his back.
Fresh blood dripped down the blade… onto the floor… onto Kael's hand.
The fiery boy's eyes widened in shock—fear—betrayal.
Kael's breath caught.
"No…" he whispered.
"NO—!"
-----------------------------------------
A gentle tapping on his cheek pulled him out of the suffocating darkness.
"Kael… Kael, can you hear me?"
Elric's voice was soft, trembling. Her palm brushed his damp forehead, pushing aside the strands of white hair stuck to his skin.
Kael blinked slowly, chest rising and falling unevenly. The lingering pain from the nightmare—his real past—still crawled beneath his skin. His body remembered every bruise, every needle, every scream.
"Kael, you were struggling… as if you were hurting."
Elric shifted closer. She was still lying beside him, her warmth enveloping his shaking body. Her eyes glimmered with worry under the dim moonlight.
Instead of answering, Kael dragged in a shaky breath. His hand slid to her waist, weak but desperate, and he pulled her tightly into his arms—burying his face into her shoulder.
Elric didn't push him away.
She wrapped him gently in her arms, one hand patting his back in slow, calming circles.
"You had a nightmare," she whispered. "It's okay… I'm here, Kael. I'm right here."
Her voice was a balm. A soft, steady touch he could cling to.
She held him until the trembling in his limbs eased. Until his breath no longer hitched. Until the world stopped spinning from the terror of memories he never asked for.
Minutes drifted by in silence before Kael finally loosened his grip and pulled back enough to see her face.
Elric smiled at him—a small, fragile smile meant only for him.
Her fingers threaded softly through his hair, brushing it back in careful strokes.
"I wish I could take your nightmares from you," she whispered. "I wish I could carry half of it… anything, so you can sleep peacefully."
Kael stared at her, the moonlight reflecting off her silver hair and softening the edges of his panic.
"Elric…"
His voice was low, almost a whisper carved from exhaustion.
She hummed lightly in response, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his chin—a tender grounding touch.
Kael hesitated.
Then, quietly:
"…did anyone ever know about my parents?"
Elric froze.
Of all things he could have asked, she never expected that.
She pulled back slightly, searching his face.
"No…" she admitted softly. "Nothing was ever recorded. The documents said you were left at a village church near the border… no name, no information, no trace."
Kael lowered his eyes.
The children from the orphanage drifted into his mind—small faces twisted in fear, crying for parents who never came back.
Parents who left them to die.
Elric's hand cupped his cheek and slowly traced down to his neck. She could see the faint kiss marks she had left earlier—darkening now along the pale skin of his collarbone. Her fingers brushed over them, tender and protective.
"Kael," she whispered, leaning her forehead against his chest. "You aren't the abandoned boy from that past anymore. You have us now. Robert. Reinhardt. Iris. Delcra. Vaelthorn… Everyone who met you loves you."
Kael closed his eyes.
His lips pressed against her hair in a soft, lingering kiss.
The memory of Robert's question echoed in his mind:
What will you do now?
He remembered the terrified children of Taylor Orphanage—children just like him.
Children who died screaming.
Children who never understood why they were born cursed.
He inhaled shakily.
"I…"
His voice trembled.
"…I want to find them."
Elric lifted her head, startled.
"Find… who?"
"The children's parents," Kael whispered, eyes shadowed with old grief. "From Taylor Orphanage… the ones who abandoned us."
Elric's breath hitched.
"You mean… Taylor Orphanage?"
Her voice cracked.
Kael nodded slowly.
"In my dream… I saw them die miserably," he whispered. "They waited for someone. Anyone. Hoping an adult would come for them."
A faint shiver ran down his spine.
"But no one came… not for them. Not for me."
Elric's eyes softened with heartbreak.
She cupped his face with both hands.
"Kael… you don't have to carry this alone."
Kael swallowed.
"I want to know why," he whispered. "Why we were left there. Why we suffered. Why we… mattered so little."
His voice broke.
"I want answers."
Elric pulled him into a tight embrace.
"Then we'll search together," she whispered into his hair. "No matter how long it takes."
Her warmth enveloped him gently—slowly melting the cold chains of his nightmare.
Kael closed his eyes and let out a soft breath, barely audible.
"…thank you."
The moonlight bathed them both, and for the first time since waking, Kael felt a sliver of peace settle over him.
-----------------------------------------
Morning sunlight filtered gently through the curtains, painting soft gold across the sheets.
Elric had already risen from the bed, but Kael's arm remained snug around her waist—holding her as though even in sleep he refused to let her go. She looked down at him, the faintest warmth pulling at her lips.
"Thank you for last night…"
She whispered it softly, brushing her fingers through his white hair.
She leaned down and kissed his cheek—light, ghostlike—before slowly sliding his hand off her waist so he wouldn't wake.
Last night had meant more to her than she could ever put into words.
Kael had finally accepted her.
Not just as a fiancée in name, but as someone he trusted deeply—someone whose touch soothed him.
If she hadn't stopped him, perhaps they truly would have crossed that final line.
But he had just recovered from poisoning.
Her heart still clenched remembering how pale he had been.
She padded silently into the wardrobe room. The moment she stood before the mirror, her breath caught.
Her neck…
her collarbone…
the soft curve between her breasts…
Dozens of faint kiss marks—Kael's marks—blossomed like crimson petals across her skin.
Her shirt hung crooked on her shoulders, creased where Kael had pulled her close, desperate and trembling.
Her face flushed as she touched the marks, fingers trailing over her collarbone.
"Should I just wear a nightgown next time…?" she murmured, burying her reddening face in her hands.
Just remembering the warmth of him—his fingers brushing the inside of her thigh, his lips pressing hungrily to her chest—made her knees weak. And she had been wearing pants; if she hadn't… she doubted she would have stopped him.
She checked her reflection quickly.
Anything visible?
Neck… chest… a few marks dangerously close to being seen.
She sighed in relief; only her upper collar needed covering. But then her gaze dropped lower—and she froze.
Between her breasts, where her shirt parted slightly—
his marks were deeper, darker, almost possessive.
Her hand cupped her breast.
Not large like Iris's—smaller, firmer. A flicker of insecurity hit her.
"How do I make them… bigger?" she whispered.
Ridiculous. Embarrassing.
But she couldn't stop the mental image of Kael's face buried between her breasts, lips trailing lower—
"Ugh—!"
She slapped her cheeks to stop her spiraling imagination, buttoned her shirt in a panic, and slipped out of Kael's chamber quietly.
She barely made it to the next hallway before someone blocked her way.
"Good morning, Duke Elric."
Elric froze.
Iris stood before her—hair beautifully tied, a knowing smile on her lips.
"M-morning, Marquise…" Elric stuttered, instinctively tugging her collar higher.
Too late.
Iris's smile widened.
"So," she mused, eyes drifting to the faint mark peeking above Elric's collar,
"you're returning from Kael's room… in the early morning?"
"Elric nearly choked.
"I—it's not what you think!"
Iris laughed softly—a delicate, musical sound.
"It's perfectly fine. You're engaged. And I'm glad he finds comfort in you."
Elric bit her lip, mortified.
She tried to walk around Iris, but Iris stepped in front of her.
"How about I help you hide that?"
Her finger pointed pointedly at the faint red mark on Elric's neck.
Elric blinked.
"…Is it that obvious?"
"Oh, yes," Iris chuckled. "Painfully obvious."
She removed her scarf and handed it over.
Together they walked into Elric's guest chamber and slipped into the wardrobe room. Elric reluctantly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing the constellation of marks.
Iris's eyes widened slightly—but she smiled with amusement.
"Well… Kael has certainly recovered."
Elric nearly fell over.
"T-that's not— we didn't— It wasn't—!"
"I know."
Iris laughed again, raising both hands.
"I only mean he seems healthier. Look how much… evidence he left on you."
Elric's face turned scarlet.
She covered her chest with her hands.
"It's embarrassing…"
"Let me help."
Iris placed her hand on Elric's shoulder, chanting a gentle concealment spell. The marks slowly faded, though a few remained faint—still warm beneath the skin.
"Kael is like a little brother to me," Iris said, brushing Elric's hair behind her ear. "And so are Reinhardt and Robert. I don't want to lose any of them. None of them had a childhood… and Kael didn't even have a teenage life. He woke up from a coma after years."
Elric's expression softened.
She nodded slowly.
"Lady Elric," Iris continued.
"Can you make Kael happy?"
Elric met her gaze—firm, unshaken.
"I'll try. No—"
She straightened, every inch the proud Duchess of the North.
"I will."
Iris smiled warmly.
"Good. But first, restrain yourself from doing anything reckless."
Her smile turned teasing.
"He's still recovering, after all."
"W-we didn't—! It wasn't like—!"
Elric protested loudly, face burning, which only made Iris laugh harder.
Just as Elric calmed down, she suddenly remembered Kael's question last night.
"Lady Iris," she said quietly, "did Kael ever ask about his parents in the past?"
Iris paused.
"No. Not once. Why?"
Her brow furrowed.
Elric exhaled.
"He… has begun dreaming about his time in Taylor Orphanage. The abuse… the children… He asked me last night if anyone ever knew who his parents were."
Iris's expression shifted—something unreadable passing through her eyes.
"Elric," she said slowly, "there's something you should know."
Elric stiffened.
"…What is it?"
Iris hesitated.
Then, in a lowered voice:
"Reinhardt is already conducting a secret investigation about Kael's origins."
Elric's breath caught—shock freezing her in place.
"…He what?"