The weight of the night pressed heavily on Conrad.
He finished his first pint, his body growing sluggish and his thoughts hazy.
(Should I go home or keep drinking?)
He wanted to leave. He knew he should leave. But somehow, the drink called to him, whispering in the back of his mind. His hand moved on its own, reaching for another pint—
Ian slapped it away.
"Nuh uh, you've had enough for tonight. Time to go home, warrior."
"But you still have three more left," Conrad protested.
"Yeah, those are for me. You should be heading back."
A moment of silence passed. Conrad sighed, giving in.
"Alright, fine."
He waved goodbye and walked toward the woods, leaving Ian behind.
As he trudged through the dense forest, the dizziness set in.
The rum had finally kicked in.
Trees blurred together, multiplying in his vision. The shadows seemed darker, deeper, as if the forest had changed entirely.
Wiping his eyes, Conrad whispered to himself, Focus.
The sooner he made it home, the sooner he could sleep.
He pressed forward.
His steps slowed—cautious now, afraid of crashing into a tree. The wild sounds of the forest grew louder, unsettling him. He glanced over his shoulder, then to his left, then right.
Nothing.
But when he turned back—
A tree loomed in front of him.
Too late.
Bang!
His body slammed into the rough bark, the impact echoing through the quiet night. The force knocked him onto the thick grass, cushioning his fall but not enough to prevent the sharp sting on his forehead.
Warm liquid trickled down his temple.
Blood.
Not much, but enough for him to notice.
Conscious but shaken, Conrad lay there, staring at the sky through the gaps in the trees.
He took deep breaths, trying to process the evening's events.
That's when he realized—
The forest was calm.
The breeze danced through the trees, carrying the crisp scent of the river nearby. The low hum of flowing water played in the background, soothing.
For the first time in forever, he felt… untied.
No expectations. No burdens. No weight pressing against his shoulders.
Just peace.
Maybe he should stay here.
Maybe he should sleep—
A deep growl snapped him out of his daze.
His heart slammed against his ribs.
That wasn't the wind.
The noise was close. Too close.
Panicked, Conrad scanned his surroundings. His eyes darted left, right, behind him.
Then—
He saw it.
A figure crouched ahead, devouring something messily.
His stomach twisted.
Sweat gathered at his brow.
He pressed his back against the tree, desperate to stay hidden.
Different thoughts clashed in his mind—fear, regret, an urge to flee. He barely noticed that his hands were shaking.
When he finally managed to glance back—
The thing was gone.
Gone.
Vanished.
A flood of relief rushed through him.
Perhaps the beast had finished its meal and left.
Good. This was his chance.
He prepared to sprint—
Then he saw it.
The remains.
A lifeless antelope lay in front of him, its body mutilated.
Its tongue hung limply from its mouth, its glassy eyes staring into nothingness. Deep claw marks painted its skin, teeth punctures shredded flesh. Blood soaked the ground, intestines sprawled like tangled cords.
Horrific.
And yet…
Conrad couldn't look away.
It was gruesome. Disgusting.
But strangely fascinating.
This was nature in its rawest form—the circle of life unfolding right before his eyes. He wanted to examine it longer, but—
The air thickened.
Something was behind him.
Chills crawled up his spine.
The presence was heavy, suffocating. He heard rustling nearby.
He turned—fast.
The rustling stopped.
Nothing there.
His instincts screamed at him to run.
But before he could move—
A blade pressed against his throat.
Not a blade. A stone.
Blood still dripped from its edge.
A boy held it.
His clothes were filthy and stained red. Dried streaks of blood ran from his nose to his chin. The stench radiating off him was unbearable.
He hasn't bathed in weeks.
Conrad panicked. His mind scrambled for answers.
He recognized the boy immediately.
A Moor.
"What are you doing, Moor?!" Conrad snapped, trying to disguise his fear. "You know I'm the Prince of Algoria, right? If you kill me, the kingdom will hunt you down!"
No reaction.
The boy's grip tightened. His eyes remained locked onto Conrad—silent, unwavering, unblinking.
Conrad weighed his options. Fight? Negotiate?
His thoughts raced—
"Listen… If you let me go, I can give you gold! As much as you want!"
Still nothing.
The boy was unfazed. Uninterested.
"Please," Conrad whispered.
His chest tightened.
Then—
He dropped to his knees.
His hands dug into the grass, his voice breaking.
"I'll do anything! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!"
Tears flooded his face. He sobbed, slamming his forehead against the ground, begging for mercy.
Seconds passed.
No response.
When he finally lifted his head—
The boy was gone.
Disappeared.
Conrad exhaled shakily, still trembling. His forehead stung, blood trickling down from the impact, but he barely noticed.
He just wanted to go home.
When he finally arrived in his room, he didn't bother changing.
Didn't clean his wound.
Didn't move.
He collapsed onto the bed and let sleep consume him.
Morning came.
"Your Highness… Your Highness," a voice called softly.
Conrad shifted but refused to get up. He pulled the covers tighter around himself.
"Your Highness, it's morning—you should prepare for school."
"I'm not feeling well today," Conrad mumbled. "I won't be attending school. Or breakfast."
"Shall I request Doctor Van Haul?"
"It's fine, Godfrey. I just need rest."
The butler sighed, turning to leave.
Just before closing the door, he paused.
"Your Highness," Godfrey said smoothly, "the next time you leave the palace for the city… you should invite me."
Conrad stiffened.
His eyes darted open.
"How did yo—"
The door clicked shut.
Last night had changed everything.
Conrad had seen a world beyond his title.
Bonded with a stranger in a way he'd always deemed inappropriate and foolish.
Begged for his life to a Moor—someone supposedly beneath him.
And yet, standing before death, titles had meant nothing.
At the end of the day, they were all just human.
Before, he never respected commoners.
Never cared about the poor, the homeless.
But now…
Now he understood.
Hans had been right all along.