/Flashback/

A Few Years.

If I had to decide whether to call it ‘already’ or ‘only’, the answer would undoubtedly be ‘only’. It had been ‘only’ a few years since Richard inherited Tarten.

It would be a lie to say there was no confusion at all when the ownership changed. After all, the throne of such a vast empire had shifted. No matter how unanimous the decision might have been after a long period of deliberation rooted in tradition, it was impossible that there were no initial disturbances or murmurs.

But at the same time, no one could deny that, in those ‘few’ short years, no one had succeeded in solidifying the throne as magnificently as Richard Tarten. No one could wield youthful ambition as effectively as he did, though no one could fully match the experience of age.

Hans, who had worked tirelessly, even to the point of being hospitalized several times from overwork and suffering from stress-related illnesses, knew this better than anyone. He had given his all to support Richard, even to the point of almost dying from the effort. (As for Halt, who had supported Richard before Hans, most of his stress-related illnesses had healed, but unfortunately, the alcohol addiction that had developed at the time still lingered and caused him ongoing trouble.)

Now, who could deny it? That the day was fast approaching when this young lion would fully grasp everything that was Tarten’s. In this vast empire of information, Hans knew that no one could dispute it, because he was involved in nearly all matters. Everyone, even those who grumbled and complained, bowed their heads to Richard. Everyone, except for one.

Yes. Just one person. His distant cousin, Christoph.

Richard and Christoph had never gotten along since they were children. To say their relationship was bad would be an understatement—there was no love lost between them, and their animosity ran deep.

Hans knew the tangled history of their relationship, but even considering that, it was clear that theirs was an exceptional case. Especially when Christoph had returned briefly just before Richard’s succession was decided, after being away from the family for a long time. For Hans, it felt like walking on thin ice. At least, that’s how it seemed to him.

Even though Christoph had always been a person whose abilities and character were inversely related, Richard was always steadfast and reliable, never allowing emotions to sway him, but had grown unusually sharp in those final days. Anyone as perceptive as Hans could easily tell that something was off.

At first, Hans thought it was just the natural sensitivity that came with the pressure of a 30-year legacy being judged. But when Christoph disappeared right after the succession decision, turning the household upside down, Hans felt something undeniable. For the first time – perhaps even for the first time in Richard’s life – he was clearly gripped by irrationality.

“He was born to inherit Tarten. And he will remain Tarten’s until the end.”

It was right after the succession, a time when Richard was so overwhelmed with managing the household affairs that he could hardly think straight. Hans tried to stop him from chasing after Christoph. After all, Christoph had given up the succession contest over a decade ago—……he wasn’t a rival anymore. Moreover, during his time in Dresden, hadn’t Richard kept Christoph beneath his feet? There was no reason to worry about him anymore. It was a reasonable, logical argument that any rational Richard would have nodded to.

However, Richard’s answer, now filled with an obsession whose cause he himself didn’t fully understand, was something else entirely. Christoph would remain Tarten’s, to the end.

Hans could still clearly remember the cold shock of that moment. It was as though Richard was saying that Christoph belonged to Tarten—the very throne that this young lion had just seized. And the Richard who said that wasn’t the Richard Hans had known.

Could someone really hate a person so much? Hans couldn’t understand as he watched Richard’s back as he left the Dresden estate, ignoring everyone’s advice. It baffled him that Richard – who had once been so calm and steady – couldn’t seem to escape the negative emotions that were only eating him alive, even now, when he had surely satisfied his anger.

Hans was worried. He was concerned as a member of the family, wondering if this unstable Richard could truly support the weight of this vast empire. As a brother, he was uneasy about his cousin, who seemed so different now. He feared that once a person like his orderly cousin strayed from the right path, there would be no end to it.

But, fortunately, his worries seemed to be unfounded.

News of a scandal caused by the mad second son of the Riegrow family in Frankfurt spread almost immediately. Soon after, Hans also heard that Christoph had left for Riyadh. Hans felt a vague sense of foreboding when he learned that Richard had returned empty-handed from Dresden after setting out with the intention of bringing Christoph back.

However, to Hans’s surprise, Richard upon returning to Dresden, looked terrifyingly exhausted but otherwise seemed no different than usual. There was no relaxed smile, but neither was there the wild gleam in his eyes. What weighed on him——What then?

“He’s signed an official contract with Al Faisal, so it will be hard to bring him back for a while.”

Hans casually, but cautiously, mentioned this. Richard turned to him with a cold piercing gaze. His lips twisted into a bitter smile, as if something had shifted inside him.

“Enough. It’s done. If he won’t come, then. ——I won’t chase him anymore.”

It was rage.

Rage, despair, frustration, and resentment—all these emotions were tightly packed inside him. He had no way of dealing with the emotions that had become as tattered as a rag. He didn’t even know what to do anymore. He turned his gaze to a different reality before him, as though he were escaping his own feelings. He said it was over.

From Tarten’s standpoint, it wasn’t the wrong decision. Richard had a mountain of tasks waiting for him, and there was no room for him to focus on anything else.

“Things at the estate are in shambles……” – Richard muttered after taking a quick look around the mansion. He didn’t say anything more after that, and that was just the beginning.

Richard worked. He managed the disarrayed household, handled overdue tasks, and relentlessly dealt with the ongoing flow of new and existing matters, over and over again.

Like a machine. As though he knew nothing but work. As though he didn’t want to think about anything else.

Every moment he was awake, he worked. He couldn’t bear not being busy. Except for a few hours of sleep, he buried himself in his work without a single moment of rest.

For Richard to firmly take over the vast amount of information and operations that Tarten had built, which were handled at the highest level, it didn’t even take the few years that people had estimated based on his exceptional ability and diligence. In just a little over a year. No, in less time than that, within about three seasons, this monstrous man had fully shouldered the empire of Tarten.

While achieving what others considered physically impossible, Halt, who had originally been assigned to assist Richard, had burned out. His place was reluctantly taken over by Hans. Although Hans often felt like collapsing hundreds of times a day, his relentless cousin, who could recognize his abilities and extract every last drop of effort, wouldn’t let him go. “Stop whining. You can handle more.” – Richard would say, offering tasks that always pushed Hans to his limits with unnerving precision.

And so, just as Hans felt like he was falling apart, convinced he’d be buried in the ground the next day, Richard finally loosened the reins on his work. There was no more work to do in such a frenzied manner—it had all been taken care of.

As the time passed, when the periods of relentless pressure on himself were over, Richard had returned to a version of himself that was, except for his obsession with work, not much different from before. He was once again the calm, kind, and reliable leader he had been years ago. He was no longer sharp as if about to lash out, nor did he display any irrational emotions.

Yes, now, when his brothers gathered and casually mentioned Christoph, Richard listened with an indifferent smile, saying only a word or two, as if it was of no importance to him. “Oh, the cousin I didn’t get along with? He seems to be doing fine somewhere.” – He would say with a nonchalant expression. Just as he had said before: “It’s done”, he now treated it as an insignificant topic.

It was around the time the fourth season returned.

It was around the time when the fourth season was about to change that a letter arrived from Riyadh. It was an invitation announcing that Al Faisal’s daughter was getting married. Hans had already known for months that Al Faisal’s eldest daughter had been exchanging formal marriage talks with a French official she had met during her studies, so it wasn’t a surprise.

“A marriage with a foreigner…… It’s not unheard of. But considering the conservative forces around here, I suppose it can be seen as quite a bold choice.”

“There seem to be some murmurs, but well, no one can say anything directly to him. It’ll just stay as gossip behind his back.” 

“…………. A congratulatory gift alone won’t be enough. I need to go in person.”

Hans had already anticipated that Richard would respond like that, as he stared at the invitation and briefly fell into thought. It wasn’t just because it was a valuable ally’s wedding. If there was gossip surrounding the marriage, especially a polygamous one, it was better to attend in person and make a grand appearance.

“Alright, I’ll send a reply like that. I’ll arrange a flight to make sure you arrive the night before. ……But, as for the relatives in Riyadh……”

Hans hesitated, glancing at Richard as if unsure how to proceed. Usually, when traveling abroad for such matters, they would also contact any relatives in the area. It was an opportunity to meet and strengthen ties, which was the Tarten way. And, of course, Christoph was in Riyadh.

Richard gave Hans a confused look before, seemingly understanding his hesitation, furrowing his brow.

“Just do as usual. What’s the problem?”

Whether or not Christoph would be contacted, or whether he would even be met there – though Hans was sure Christoph would just scoff if contacted – it didn’t matter. Richard was indifferent. Hans could tell by his cold, unwavering eyes that this wasn’t a lie.

——Alright. It was over now.

Yes, it was done. There were no more problems.

Hans thought that, and Richard, too, thought the same. It was over now.

/End Flashback/

*************************

Richard woke at five o’clock.

He reached out to silence the alarm that had gone off at its usual time and rubbed his eyes for a moment. Almost instantly, the drowsiness in his gaze vanished, and he rose to head to the bathroom.

Whether he had fallen asleep only at dawn, drunk himself into slumber with a pounding headache, or – like now – arrived on a red-eye flight after a grueling workload and slept only two or three hours, he always woke at the same hour. It was a habit ingrained into his body.

The air felt cold against his bare skin as he stepped out of the shower.

Back in Germany, spring was giving way to summer. But here, in this land of scorching heat, though the dry season was nearing its end, the mornings were still chilly despite the relentless heat of the days. The temperature difference between when the sun was up and when it wasn’t was significant.

Richard threw on a cardigan over his shirt – a garment he’d shed in just a few hours – and opened the door.

The door to the guesthouse, where he always stayed during his visits here, swung open to release a faintly damp, refreshing breeze. Outside, the terrace, built of rough-hewn logs, overlooked a garden in full bloom. Brightly colored flowers spilled over as if this were some lush tropical island—a luxury almost unattainable in this desert land.

Richard’s gaze moved indifferently past the vivid colors of the flowers as he surveyed the garden, not dark but still dim in the pre-dawn light.

Where might he be now?

There was no need to wonder. That man, who always struggled to rise in the morning due to his low blood pressure, was likely still buried in his bed.

Richard knew exactly where the man’s guesthouse was. He began to walk slowly in that direction. From the shadow of a nearby tree, he felt the eyes of a guard stationed to keep watch. Richard ignored him. The guard undoubtedly already knew that he was the guest who had arrived late the previous night.

He had arrived well past a reasonable hour. A servant, already informed of his arrival, had welcomed him politely and guided him to his quarters without any issues. However, it had been too late for him to greet the host of the estate. This was not unusual for his visits here; the same had happened before.

In a couple of hours, they would likely meet over breakfast. That would be it. Both of them understood that Richard had not come to see the estate’s host, and throughout his stay, their interactions would likely be limited to brief encounters during meals.

“……”

For a moment, Richard thought of the man who, two years ago, had inherited this luxurious estate from its previous owner. The original owner, Al Faisal, had passed the estate to his nephew and moved elsewhere. Since then, Al Faisal rarely visited the property. Word was that he had also begun transferring his real influence to his nephew, signaling a likely retirement in the near future.

If that happens, the nephew will seize immense power. Even now, Raman Abid Al Saud is someone no one can afford to underestimate.

Having gained Jeong Jaeui, the one so-called ‘genius of fortune’, but whether due to that or not, his influence had been growing unchecked.

It’s always good when an ally’s strength increases. Though, of course, one must never let our guard down entirely.

Richard took a quiet breath as he walked, his steps crunching softly on the sandy ground beneath him.

The cold and lingering dawn air.

The occasional sound of birds calling in the distance.

Soon, the sound of the Adhan would echo from afar, signaling the time for those born and raised here to offer their prayers to God.

Just a few hours away by plane, yet a world apart from where he had lived. Here, in this cool morning air that would soon yield to scorching sunlight, everything that met his eyes felt alien.

But the most foreign thing of all, ironically, wasn’t even something that belonged to this world.

“……”

When Richard arrived at the familiar guesthouse, he quietly pushed the door open without knocking. As expected, it wasn’t locked, and the door swung silently inward. Inside, in the unpartitioned space that served as both a living room and bedroom, a man lay asleep on the bed.

Just as he’d thought. Struggling every morning to rise due to low blood pressure, this man never woke early unless necessary. Especially today, his rare day off. Unless someone disturbed him, he would likely remain in bed well past noon.

Richard leaned against one of the bedposts, gazing down at him. The man slept peacefully, his hands clasped neatly over his stomach.

Even while sleeping, his posture was perfectly composed, and his features – almost sculptural in their precision – added to the image. Richard knew this man well. He knew that faint down still lingered on his earlobes, that his left eyebrow was imperceptibly lighter than his right, and that the brilliant blue of his eyes – hidden now beneath closed lids – held a faint olive tint near the pupils…… No one in the world likely knew more about this man than Richard did.

And yet, every time he looked at him, Richard felt something strange. An alien sensation. As if he were looking at something that shouldn’t exist in this world. His heart beat strangely, and his emotions surged and roiled.

Christoph.

Richard quietly mouthed his name. It wouldn’t even be accurate to say he called out. It was nothing more than a slight movement of his lips.

Suddenly, he felt a sense of impatience. He wanted to see Christoph move. He wanted to meet those brilliant blue eyes with their faint olive hue.

Though the rising impatience wasn’t something that would easily subside, Richard stood still, patient as ever.

He knew he wouldn’t have to wait long. Christoph was a man who struggled to fully wake up after sleep, but his sharp, sensitive nerves always reacted to the presence of another.

And, just as expected.

It wasn’t long before Christoph’s brow twitched and shifted a few times. Finally, his eyelids lifted, revealing those blue eyes.

*Blink……Blink.*

After a couple of slow blinks, those blue eyes landed on Richard.

“……”

Weighted down by grogginess, Christoph’s slightly annoyed eyes stared blankly at Richard, blinking a few more times. Then, at some point, that blue gaze sharpened and grew clear. Without blinking, Christoph stared directly at Richard, who calmly met his gaze.

Even in his morning stupor, Christoph seemed to realize that the figure before him wasn’t a dream. His blue eyes narrowed slightly, his brow furrowing as he muttered something under his breath. Then, he abruptly yanked the blanket over his head.

“You’re going to start training before the first bell rings. How do you even manage to wake up and work during the week like this?”

“……”

“Well, I suppose you’re completely useless throughout the morning anyway, so whether you wake up at 5 or after 10, it makes little difference. You’re not disrupting training at least, are you?”

“……”

“Then again, wasn’t it just recently that you half-asleep ended up twisting your sparring partner’s arm? I guess your ‘training’ is actually a disturbance.”

“……Shut up and go away……”

At last, a muffled voice emerged from beneath the blankets.

“You said you went to bed before 11 last night. That’s already plenty of sleep for an adult.”

“……So that damned house’s famed intelligence network is only good for useless things like this?”

“Calling it ‘intelligence’ is a bit much when all it takes is asking a maid a simple question.”

Before Richard’s scoffing could fade, a disheveled head emerged from under the blanket, unable to endure any longer. Christoph’s face, plainly showing his irritation, was still weighed down by sleep, his eyes barely managing to open.

Richard picked up the thermos from the bedside table and poured coffee into an empty cup. Christoph shot him a grumpy glare but reluctantly took the cup. He sipped the coffee – dark and bitter like poison – and slowly began to wake up, though his scrunched-up expression showed no signs of softening.

“When are you leaving?”

“Tuesday night.”

“Staying a while, aren’t you?”

Christoph placed the empty cup back on the table with a slight thud before throwing the blanket back over himself. Unbothered, Richard poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Take Monday and Tuesday off.”

“Why should I?!”

Christoph flung the blanket off and glared at him. Richard simply looked down at him silently, sipping his coffee.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Do you think I can just take time off whenever I want? Work isn’t some game to fool around with.”

“Funny words coming from someone who, when the mood strikes, doesn’t mind casually breaking a colleague’s arm in training.” – Richard remarked with a smirk. He picked up the thermos and refilled Christoph’s cup, emptying the last of the coffee.

“You think I came here to fool around? I worked every single day for four months without fail just to free up those Monday and Tuesday.”

“Who told you to do that?”

“Christoph.”

At the cold and steady sound of his name, Christoph frowned, grabbed the coffee cup, and muttered: “Don’t make me laugh.” His icy response barely reached Richard’s ears.

For a moment, there was silence. The only sound was the sharp clinking of Christoph’s cup as he drank his coffee irritably. Finally, a dissatisfied voice broke the quiet.

“If it were just a holiday, I might let it slide.”

“Tsk.” – Christoph clicked his tongue and muttered as he glared at Richard. Richard narrowed his eyes slightly, making it hard to tell whether he was amused by the response or irritated by it.

Suddenly overcome with frustration, Christoph threw his cup. The metal cup clanged loudly as it hit the saucer and rolled across the table.

“Stop barging in unannounced. As if I wasn’t already ready to explode from dealing with a bunch of recruits who can’t tell their heads from their feet all week.”

“That temper of yours doesn’t exactly make training recruits easier, does it?”

“Shut up or leave. Pick one.” 

Christoph growled, pressing his temples as if his head was throbbing. His hand groped instinctively at the bedside table, and Richard watched him coldly.

“Still the same madness, I see. Reaching for pills the moment you wake up.”

“If you won’t shut up, at least get out.” – Christoph snapped.

A small object flew toward Christoph, landing directly in his hand on reflex. He looked down to see it was a pill bottle.

“If you must, take those instead. At least they won’t turn you into a junkie, no matter how many you gulp down.”

“Oh, and I’m sure you’d clap with joy if that ever happened.” 

Christoph retorted as he unscrewed the bottle and tipped it over. 6 or 7 pills spilled into his hand, which he immediately tossed into his mouth. Chewing on them, he grimaced at the bitterness while Richard clicked his tongue.

“If it’s so bitter, why not swallow them with water? You’re so―”

Richard approached with an empty glass and the water pitcher, but he suddenly froze mid-step.

From where he had been leaning against the bedpost, about two paces from Christoph, he had moved a single step closer. At that moment, Christoph flinched ever so slightly, shrinking his shoulders and glancing warily at Richard. It was likely an unconscious reaction, a reflexive display of caution.

That wariness carried a mix of discomfort, confusion, and unease.

All over just a single step.

“……―.”

Christoph seemed to realize why Richard had stopped. His face hardened, his gaze fierce as if scowling at the air itself. He looked as though he thought he’d shown a weakness, his expression sharp and hostile. Richard watched him for a moment, then stepped back. Setting the glass on the bedside table, Richard quietly poured water into it. Christoph glanced at the glass briefly but said nothing. Richard took another step back, leaning against the bedpost again, and silently observed Christoph.

The distance of two steps was maintained.

“…………”

For a while, silence lingered.

It was Richard who broke the silence first. Without a word, his expression unchanged, he took a small box from his pocket and tossed it. Christoph, staring at it, didn’t reach for it this time. The box fell with a soft thud at his feet. It was a dark blue box tied with a pearl-colored ribbon, the logo of a shop Christoph often visited elegantly engraved on it.

Christoph shot a glance at Richard, who said nothing, before frowning and untying the ribbon. Inside the box, perfectly fitted into a niche, was a money clip.

“You said you don’t keep a wallet in your pocket because it messes up the shape of your clothes.”

Christoph fiddled with the silver money clip in his hand, gazing down at it. While watching Chris intently, Richard observed Chris’s face as if inspecting a homework assignment.

After a moment, Christoph lazily tapped the money clip with his fingertips.

“Did you pick it?”

“Yeah.”

“Figured as much. This design is so simple it’s borderline dull—exactly the kind of thing you’d pick.”

With those words, Christoph put the money clip back in the box and tossed the box somewhere carelessly. The box dropped with a soft thud onto the bedside table, and Richard looked down at it with a slightly darker gaze. The homework review was a failure.

“A guy who’s supposedly doing well in business, but when it comes to picking out stuff……”

Christoph sneered openly, but Richard didn’t respond. “It’s a good thing at least there’s an abundance of money; rather, you should buy people.” – Christoph continued spitting out barbed words, but Richard stayed silent. The result of a failed review was always like this. It had always been this way.

Only after spewing all his sarcasm did Christoph seem a little more at ease. It also seemed like he was waking up a bit. He reached for the glass of water Richard had placed and let out a relieved breath.

When Christoph was satisfied, his eyes narrowed slightly, almost like a cat’s, and he looked down at Richard. Christoph’s frown deepened when their eyes met, and after a moment, he looked away, his gaze falling on Richard’s wrist.

“…… I haven’t seen this watch before.”

Richard lowered his gaze to his wrist. It had been kept in a drawer for a long time, but it was a watch he used to wear frequently in the past. It wasn’t particularly valuable, and if you looked closely, it showed signs of wear, but it was something he cherished as it had been with him during his younger years.

Richard glanced briefly at Christoph, who was still intently staring at his wrist. After a moment, he removed the watch and, after fiddling with it for a second, casually tossed it to Christoph.

Christoph examined the watch, then held it up to his own wrist. “Hmm.” – He mumbled something under his breath, then decided to wear it…….. “Hmm.” – He stared at it again, mumbling in his usual way. His hands continued to toy with the watch as though he wasn’t planning on taking it off anytime soon.

Eventually, Christoph lifted his gaze. Their eyes met, and he frowned, clearly displeased.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Me? No way. Looks like your mental condition is spreading to your eyes now.”

“Don’t make me laugh. I said my eyebrows dropped.”

“Normally, when someone says ‘smiling’, it’s not about the direction of the eyebrows.”

Richard muttered to himself: “Whatever”, whose lips were still curving into his usual indifferent straight line, and stood up from leaning against the bedpost.

“It’s about time people start walking around. I have to go pay my visit to those I missed last night, so I’ll head out now. I’ll see you at the meal.”

“Don’t call for me. I’m going to sleep.”

“Well, even if I don’t call, your punctual employer as a knife will. Breakfast is at 7:30, right? It’s an old watch, but it’s still accurate, so don’t be late. I’ll lend it to you.”

Richard glanced once at the watch now wrapped around Christoph’s wrist before turning to leave. Behind him, he could hear Christoph grumbling with some curses, but the sound quickly faded away as he walked through the door.

Beyond that door, the air had become lighter and brighter, the first stirrings of life emerging. The night was passing, and morning had arrived. As the sunlight began to prick at his eyes, Richard walked on, glancing down at his empty wrist.

“……”

He rubbed his wrist quietly and then lifted his gaze again. His face, as usual, showed no particular expression, but his eyes were slightly lowered.

The watch, which had always been on his wrist, seemed a bit heavy for his slender wrist. But it looked quite good. Surprisingly so. Very well, in fact.