Days passed.
Seven did not leave his room, did not talk to anyone but himself, and did nothing but swing his sword over and over again.
Iria never showed herself either.
She just left food outside his door three times a day. Morning, noon, and night. She did not even knock or said a word every time she did, but just the quiet sound of a plate being placed down.
He would wait a few seconds, open the door, grab the tray, then go back to swinging.
And… the food tastes different.
"She lowered the dose, huh?"
He muttered.
The poison was still there, just weaker. He knew the signs. Every day, he took four pills to improve his complexion.
But whenever he took the red one, a small sting would still hit his stomach.
Still, that was not the thing bothering him the most.
What really bugged him was that the Archduke had not shown up yet.
He expected the Archduke to storm in right after hearing the twins' report and the information reported by one of his hidden knights.
If there was indeed one.
After all, he was not sure about whether it exists right now, given that in the novel, that hidden force would scatter themselves after the Archduke's death and was never mentioned again.
He did not know about the name of that force in the first place.
Still…
"It failed…"
His Plan-A failed.
He hoped to show the Archduke that he had changed and maybe even get his hands on that old Academy invitation they said Eden did not use in the novel.
That could have made the whole entrance process easier.
Sigh.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
This time, he was not all bones anymore given that he gained a bit of muscle after all that swinging, but it would not matter if he could not even register in time.
If he counted the days right, it was already the 16th day of Nocten.
Hence, the registration day was nearing its end anytime soon.
Tomorrow.
Step.
He walked over to the desk and opened the drawer. Inside was a small bag Iria had given him a while back. She said Eden left it behind after he opened his first Zaen gate.
He pulled out a folded piece of parchment.
A letter.
But it was a speech and not the invitation decree he was hoping for.
At the end, there was a weird phrase: Best of luck!!
"Hah…"
He chuckled.
"Does she want me to take first place or something?"
He tossed the letter back inside.
There was not much else in the drawer. Just a pen and a notebook. Looked like a journal.
He stared at it for a second, then scoffed.
"And now she wants me to write, too?"
He slumped into the chair and rested his head back against the wooden edge.
"Fudge…"
He closed his eyes.
He did not know that the real invitation decree and the one Eden left the day he collapsed from fighting the assassin.
Iria just never told him as she hid it.
Thus he just sat there.
"..."
Minutes passed.
Eventually, he stood up, grabbed a towel, and headed for the bath.
If he wanted to get to the Kingdom before registration, he needed to leave today.
And he needed to look at least half-alive when he got there.
***
In the Exiled Mansion
Step. Step.
Iria stepped into the Seven's room.
Creak.
But the moment the door opened, she froze.
Seven stood near the table with his back facing her.
His upper body bare, drops of water still sliding down his pale skin. Despite how skinny he looked, there were faint lines of muscle on his arms and back to make her stare a second too long.
A towel hung low on his hips, clinging like it was barely doing its job.
She opened her mouth to finally confess everything and… maybe to apologize.
But what came out instead was a squeak.
Literally.
…Like a startled duck.
She immediately slapped a hand over her mouth.
"Tell the knights to prepare the carriage"
Seven simply said without turning around.
He grabbed the towel from his hair and tossed it onto a chair, then finally looked at her over his shoulder.
"Oh, and… clothes. Bring me something decent."
His eyes met hers.
She spun around so fast she almost tripped on the doorway
"…R-Right away."
***
In the Main Duchy
A cyan-colored carriage slowly made its way toward the giant front gates of the Duchy.
Two knights were guarding the entrance, and a few others were checking everyone coming in as they asked questions, looked through bags, and inspected carriages.
It was the usual routine.
But the moment that cyan carriage got close, the whole atmosphere changed.
People in line stepped aside on their own. Other carriages moved out of the way. Even the merchants who were arguing just a second ago suddenly went quiet.
Even the knights guarding the gate stepped aside without hesitation.
After all, the carriage was smooth, polished, and painted a deep cyan blue with silver lines wrapped neatly around the edges and the crest of House Hart was carved into both sides:
Two dragons wrapped around a broken sword.
But the thing everyone noticed first was the big silver "7" at the front.
It clearly marked the owner.
The seventh child of the Archduke.
The youngest.
The one who was rumored to be exiled given that his presence was not seen by the outside world even once.
And thus no one dared to block his path.
But in all honesty, Seven did not care about stuff like that.
Because right now, he was knocked out cold and was sleeping like a log after spending the last hour coughing and puking his guts out.
Motion sickness hit him harder than he expected.
Even now, his face was pale, his hair stuck to his forehead from sweat, and his hand was loosely clutching a half-empty water flask.
"Ugh…"
He groaned a little in his sleep, shifting uncomfortably as the carriage bumped ever so slightly.
There was a small bucket placed near his feet that was half full, sadly… and the inside of the carriage smelled faintly of mint leaves and medicine.
Clearly, Iria who sat rigid and awkward across him tried to help but did not work.
And yet, despite the miserable state he was in, the moment the carriage wheels slowed down, he blinked open one eye.
"…Already?"
He rubbed his eyes slowly and leaned back against the cushions.
"I fudging hate traveling…"