Staring at the blond-haired boy who stepped into the room like a beam of sunlight, Eamon froze for a moment.

"Young Master... Muen?"

"What’s wrong? Surprised to see me? Or is it..."

Muen paused, then quipped lightly.

"Are you mad I haven’t come to visit you in so long?"

"..."

"Forgive me. I really couldn’t make time this past month—and I felt it would’ve been a bit inappropriate to show up before the exam results were out."

He stepped closer and set down a bag of fruit on the table beside the bed.

"I wanted to peel you an apple, but that felt a little too flamboyantly gay, so—how about you take care of it yourself?"

"..."

"Hm? Why are you keeping your head down and not saying anything?"

Muen sat down in the chair and looked at the silent, downcast Eamon, teasing with a grin.

"Don’t tell me you’re crying from joy? I mean, I am handsome and charming, but don’t fall for me, okay? Let’s keep it at friendship."

"Young Master Muen..." Eamon suddenly spoke, his voice thick with emotion, bordering on tears.

"Hmm?"

"Why did you come to see me?"

"Why? Isn’t visiting a friend a totally normal thing?"

"But I..." Eamon abruptly raised his head, his eyes brimming with remorse and guilt.

"But I..."

"Enough."

Muen cut him off before he could finish, reaching out to pat his shoulder.

"I don’t care about any of that. It wasn’t your intent, was it?"

He smiled again.

"I don’t have much time for this visit, so let’s not waste it on heavy topics."

"..."

Eamon stared blankly at the golden-haired boy before him—so familiar, yet so utterly different from his memory. All the guilt and self-hatred that had built up in his heart over the past month seemed to melt away under that gentle, jewel-blue gaze like snow under sunlight.

"...Mm."

...

"How’s the food?"

"Not bad."

"Room okay?"

"It’s fine."

"Nurse-sisters cute?"

"...They’re cute."

"And your family?"

"They sent a letter. Said it was all a misunderstanding and that they’ve restored our relationship. Even made me the first heir as compensation."

"Families always prioritize their interests. Don’t trust ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) them too much. Best to rely on yourself."

"I know."

In the warmth of the afternoon, the two chatted idly, one topic after another.

Until the doctor walked into the room with a grim expression and pointed at the clock at Muen.

"Haha, guess I lost track of time."

Muen scratched his cheek awkwardly and stood up to leave.

"See you, Eamon."

"Yeah."

Eamon nodded, his expression a little flustered.

Just as Muen was about to leave the room, Eamon seemed to gather his courage and called out.

"Goodbye, Muen."

Muen didn’t turn around—just paused for a brief second, then walked out with even lighter steps.

...

...

"What should I do next?"

After leaving the infirmary, Muen stretched lazily and glanced up at the gloomy sky.

"Looks like it’s gonna rain."

Not good.

Tomorrow was Open House.

And the day after was the day he’d meet with his upperclassman. No, wait—that was the day he’d repay his upperclassman. If it rained too long, it would really ruin the mood.

"Should I just pay a Grand Magician to clear the skies?"

Muen stroked his chin, seriously considering it.

On paper, it was doable. Dispersing rain was well within the abilities of any magician above the Secret Rite tier.

But this was the imperial capital, Beirland. Tampering with the weather here... could easily land you in jail for endangering the capital.

Even the son of a duke couldn’t act recklessly in this place.

"Forget it. I’ll take it one step at a time."

He quickly let it go and headed toward the dorms.

Time was short. That date—or repayment—needed proper planning.

"Muen?"

But he’d barely taken a few steps when a familiar voice called out to him.

"Ah, Shali."

Muen turned his head toward the voice.

And there they were again—that familiar pair of braided pigtails and oversized black-rimmed glasses.

Shali Frand, the girl he’d had a little misunderstanding with.

"What a coincidence. You’re here too—"

Muen nearly said it aloud but caught himself just in time and swallowed the word hospital.

Saying you’re at the hospital too, no matter how you spun it, was a great way to get punched.

"Did you need something from me?" he blinked, smiling gently.

"N-No, not really. I just ran into you by chance."

Shali adjusted her oversized glasses, her cheeks turning pink.

"Actually, I just wanted to ask... the cake I made last time... Did you like it?"

"Cake? What cake...?"

Muen responded instinctively—then immediately froze.

The cake!

The cake Shali had given him!

He’d tossed it all during the fight with Eamon—he hadn’t eaten a single bite!

"Eh? I mean the cake I gave you before..." Shali tilted her head, puzzled. "You... didn’t eat it?"

"I did! Of course I did!"

Muen shouted.

"I ate all of it! Not a crumb left!"

No way he could admit now that he’d thrown it away. If word got out that he’d trashed a girl’s heartfelt gift, the Academy would be swarming with rumors the next day about how he toyed with women’s feelings.

And there’d be no way to refute it.

"Really?"

Shali gave a bashful smile.

"Then, what did you think of the cake, Muen?"

"It was delicious!"

"Eh? That was quick."

Shali scratched her cheek, looking troubled.

"Actually... I was hoping for a more thoughtful answer. Like, about the texture or the sweetness level..."

"That was my thoughtful answer!"

Muen looked her dead in the eye, voice earnest.

"Your cake... was so good, I literally couldn’t find a single flaw!"

That, at least, was true.

Because he genuinely had no way to name a single flaw in something he hadn’t eaten.

"R-Really...?"

Faced with Muen’s sincere praise, Shali’s entire face turned red. Muen could almost swear he saw steam rising from the top of her head.

"Muen, you’re really... going too far with words like that..."

"No, Shali, you’re the one who doesn’t give yourself enough credit! You have to believe in your cake! Believe that it’s the best!"

"I-I see..."

Completely flustered by Muen’s barrage of compliments, Shali could barely string her words together.

Seeing this, Muen decided now was the time to make his escape. If the conversation dragged on, she might catch on to something—and that would be bad.

"Did you need anything else? If not, then I’ll—"

"I do have something else!"

"Hm?"

"Um..."

It seemed to be something hard for her to say. Shali lowered her head, hands clutching the hem of her skirt. After a long pause, she finally stammered out:

"A-Actually, I thought about it after I got home... Apologizing with something as cheap as cake—when you’re someone of Muen’s status—it felt kind of... disrespectful.

I thought I should offer something more important... something that really shows how sincere I am.

S-So... I was wondering... Muen, do you have time during Open House?"