Little Pink Starfish

──────・・・・・・

Fragments of a shattered vase lay scattered across the floor, and from fingers likely cut by those shards, fresh blood dripped onto the carpet, staining it a deep red.

“…You’re injured—”
“Silence!!”

With a sudden burst of rage, a stack of documents was thrown, aimed directly at Morito’s face.

Even as the papers struck him, Morito neither flinched nor attempted to dodge them.

“…What has happened?”

The moment Samuel returned to his office, he had grabbed the vase on his desk and smashed it against the floor. Seeing his master’s unusual state, Morito, who had returned temporarily for his routine report, was taken aback.

Yet, Samuel paid him no attention, gripping his bleeding hand and clutching his head.

His silver hair became streaked with crimson.

“…Samuel-sama…”
“…Did you know?”
“…Know what, exactly?”
“About Asher!! Did you know that Asher and Theodore—”
“…”

For a brief moment, Morito’s expression stiffened.

Seeing that slight reaction, Samuel immediately understood.

“…You were hiding something.”
“Samuel-sama, I only—”
“There are still things you haven’t reported to me, aren’t there?!”
“…!”

Golden eyes locked onto Morito, carrying the weight of a sword held at his throat.

Samuel was never one to let his emotions show. He was always calm, always wearing that composed, knowing smile.

But the man standing before Morito now was different.

Swallowing hard, Morito finally spoke.

“…I do not know how Prince Asher feels about Theodore Lewis. However… what I do know is this—Theodore Lewis’s fated mate is Prince Asher.”

Samuel ran his fingers through his hair, his grip tightening until it became a mess.

Blood dripped from his scalp down to his forehead and along his cheek.

“…His mate?”
“The beast bandits had intended to torture Prince Asher… but when they realized he was Theodore Lewis’s fated mate, they stopped. That’s how sacred mates are to beastfolk—”
“Then, what are you saying? That Theodore is a beastman?”
“…He is of mixed blood. Half-beastman, half-human… He transformed in order to protect Prince Asher.”
“Theodore… transformed?”
“Yes, though it may have been temporary. I am unsure of the full extent, but at that moment, he took on a beast-like form.”

“…”

Samuel’s mind raced as he recalled everything about Theodore—his superhuman strength, his unnatural resilience.

If he possessed the power of a beastman, then it all made sense.

“…What exactly is a mate?”
“…”
“I asked you—what is it?”
“It is not a common term among humans… but for beastmen, mates are determined from birth.”
“Determined…?”
“They are bound by fate.”

Samuel’s expression twisted in disgust as he glared at Morito.

“…And how do you know that Theodore’s mate is Asher?”
“Beastmen can sense their mates instinctively.”
“Asher is human.”
“Even so… there is proof. Mates can heal each other with their saliva.”

Samuel’s eyes widened.

『…The physician said he didn’t know why, but Asher’s wounds had healed at an abnormal rate.』

He recalled those words.

『The gods recognized their mistake and blessed your body with healing.』

──── Thump.

His heart pounded violently.

Mates can heal each other’s wounds.

Asher’s body—covered in scars—had been healed at an unnatural speed.

“…Get out.”
“Samuel-sama—”
“Get out, now!!”

Though clearly hesitant, Morito bowed and left the office.

The moment he was gone, Samuel swept everything off his desk in a fit of rage.

A loud crash echoed as objects shattered upon impact.

He didn’t care.

“Impossible… impossible… impossible.”

His breath quickened, his heart hammering in his chest.

And in his mind—he saw them.

The scene from earlier.

He had been searching for Hugo in the garden.

And that was when he saw them.

Asher and Theodore.

Their hands lingering on one another, the way they looked at each other.

──── Like lovers.

Samuel gritted his teeth and slammed his fist against the desk.

A dull thud echoed through the room as he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair.

“…My, my. Such a spectacle.”

A voice called from behind him, but Samuel remained unresponsive.

“What’s with the tantrum? Ugh, I hate men who take their anger out on objects.”

With an amused smile, Reachalf gracefully seated himself on a nearby sofa.

Now slightly calmer, Samuel crudely wrapped a cloth around his injured hand and sat in the chair across from Reachalf.

“…Asher truly is suited to be the Divine Child, isn’t he?”
“Hm? Well, his soul is.”
“Then take him to the temple. Immediately.”
“What? Did you forget the king’s expression? He looked at me like I was filth. Asher himself isn’t interested either. …More importantly—”

Reachalf’s emerald eyes narrowed as he glared at Samuel.

“I can’t believe this. I haven’t seen you in ages, and you’ve been avoiding me the whole time.”
“…And why should I care?”
“What kind of attitude is that?! Do you know how hard it was to find an excuse to leave the temple?! I was thrilled when I got your letter! And now you—”
“Just come up with any excuse and take Asher away!”

Samuel’s voice rose in frustration, but Reachalf simply sighed.

“You’re as selfish as ever, you know that? Even if you convinced the king, the real problem is Asher. You can’t force him—”
“Then I will.”

At those words, Reachalf’s eyes darkened as he studied Samuel’s face.

And upon realizing he was serious, he let out a deep sigh.

If necessary, Samuel would take Asher by force.

He had underestimated the situation.

He had dismissed the possibility, convinced that it was impossible.

But the reality had already unfolded before his eyes.

And worse yet—

It was Theodore Lewis.

The strongest of the Black Knights.

A war hero.

The one man Samuel had never been able to surpass, no matter how many times they fought side by side.

The knight whom Samuel himself had given his title.

The man he trusted more than anyone.

And yet—

“…Of all people… it had to be you, Theodore.”

Samuel let out a sharp laugh, his lips twisting into a cruel smile.

Reachalf watched him in silence.

For a long moment, the room remained still.

Then, Samuel suddenly recalled something.

“…That reminds me—there’s a banquet tonight. A welcoming feast for you, hosted by my father.”
“What? Why are you bringing that up now?”
“The royal advisors insisted. They thought it would be rude not to honor the High Priest of Fana’ara.”
“Ughhh, what a pain. But wait… that means all the royals will be there, right? Oh! Well, in that case, I suppose I can make an appearance.”

Reachalf clapped his hands in amusement, as if suddenly excited.

Meanwhile, Samuel stood and called Morito back into the room.

“Samuel-sama…?”
“…I apologize for earlier.”
“Not at all, Your Highness.”
“But I must confirm something once more.”

A strange chill ran through Morito’s spine.

Samuel’s face was calm now—far too calm.

“…Theodore is truly a beastman hybrid, correct?”

Golden eyes gleamed with a sharp, predatory light.

Morito felt as though he were a mouse caught in the gaze of a snake.

“…I don’t like where this is going, so I’ll excuse myself. Good luck, Morito~”

With a cheerful wave, Reachalf left the office.

Morito swallowed nervously before answering.

“…Yes.”

“Summon my beast soldiers.”

Morito stiffened in confusion.

“Beast soldiers…?”
“Did I stutter?”
“…Understood.”

Hiding his unease, Morito quickly exited.

As the door closed behind him, Samuel leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the ceiling.

“…So Theodore really is a hybrid.”

His golden eyes stared into the distance, lost in thought.