Little Pink Starfish

“Administrator Alika, is something troubling you?”

“No, not really. I’m just feeling a bit wistful that the Winter Festival is over.”

After the festival comes the long winter. The cold becomes so severe it can claim lives, and most of the territory’s people stay indoors. It was for this reason that indoor amusements were so well developed in Solar. The officials also had fewer tasks, and with time to spare, they found themselves reflecting on the joys of the festival.

“Ah, right. This year’s Winter Festival was such a delight.”

“It really was. Especially the illusion His Lordship showed us… wasn’t it so beautiful?”

“The Ice Bird… it was breathtaking.”

“And His Lordship’s outfit that day—it suited Him so well. I wish He dressed like that more often.”

“Right? That’s what I’ve been feeling, too…”

Alika’s colleague glanced around before pulling out a bundle of parchment from their drawer. Then, as if it were a secret, they shyly showed him a collection of illustrations.

“I draw His Lordship’s outfits every year and keep a record of them.”

“Good heavens, Administrator Marsha!”

Alika’s eyes sparkled. Marsha’s skill was so refined that the drawings instantly brought back vivid memories of that day.

“Your artwork is amazing.”

“You’re too kind, Administrator Alika. It’s all thanks to His Lordship. He grants me the inspiration.”

As Alika continued admiring the illustrations, he cautiously made a request.

“Would it be possible for me to have just one of these…?”

“That might be a bit…”

Marsha looked hesitant. Alika, thinking for a moment, then opened his own drawer. Inside were parchment sheets recording His Lordship’s speeches from each year’s festival. These weren’t just any records—they were meticulously decorated, the edges adorned in delicate brushwork. Marsha’s eyes gleamed as she read through one, and she agreed: if Alika gave her one of those recorded speeches, she would create a new drawing of his choosing.

Thus, their secret trade was sealed.

“Then how about dinner this evening? I think, as loyal officials to His Lordship, we’ve got much to talk about.”

As he suggested this, Alika was suddenly reminded of the “club” that Senior Administrator Petra had introduced him to. The monster eyeball enthusiast group was… well, something he’d rather never think about again. They claimed it was about loyalty to His Lordship, but they were really just perverts obsessed with eyeballs.

But if—if—there were a group that truly and genuinely existed to honour His Lordship’s greatness…? Alika lowered his voice and asked Marsha,

“Administrator Marsha, have you ever considered forming a group… for our Lord?”

That moment, born from the boredom of a loyal administrator in winter, would become the start of a long-standing tradition—a group that would carry on for generations.

---

2. A Room You Can’t Leave Unless You ○○

“Hey, Eira. They say lovers go through a phase of boredom, don’t they?”

Eira, immersed in documents, responded a beat too late. He had spent the entire night processing paperwork. The northern grand lord, with eyes like shadowed snow and ice, furrowed his brow and glanced at Yanu.

“Boredom phase?”

Coming from the very one who, just two nights ago, spent day and night draining Eira’s HP to zero… Eira didn’t even bother hiding his sour expression, though Yanu remained completely unfazed.

“So they say long-time couples sometimes need something special to spice things up.”

“Yanu, you’re not my lover, you’re my concubine.”

Eira quipped while scribbling with his quill. A magically modified pen spilled ink without pause. Not that he actually saw Yanu as merely a concubine—but sometimes… sometimes, it did feel like that.

It wasn’t a baseless complaint. Even though Yanu had publicly declared himself a red dragon and Eira’s mate over ten years ago, that ‘concubine’ title just never seemed to go away. Probably because, like now, Yanu sprawled around the office during official hours talking about relationship boredom.

Naturally, Yanu didn’t mind being called a concubine in the slightest.

“Remember that glittery powder we played with? That was fun.”

“Glittery… powder?”

Too tired to keep up, Eira frowned in confusion.

“The powder we sprinkled on your body to make it taste better.”

The retainers coughed loudly. The boldest form of protest they dared to show the dragon. Naturally, Yanu didn’t even twitch an ear.

Eira, finally remembering that absurd night from a decade ago, sighed. That powder had been absurdly expensive. Not that the time with Yanu was bad—but it felt like a waste for just one night of “special play.”

The little pebble resting on his hand glowed softly. Eira blew gently on it to stop it from drooping onto the floor, shooting a glare at one of the first-class administrators nearby.

Administrator Alika, you’re not even a court scribe, so don’t you dare record this…

It had already been over a decade since Eira became the Lord of Solar. And as the domain expanded, so did the number of retainers.

Those who made it through the filter were almost astonishingly loyal and diligent. Eira was always grateful that they lightened his workload—but he also couldn’t shake a lingering unease.

With Solar’s growth came a proportional surge in administrative staff, and naturally, clubs began forming. Among them were two standout groups: the Monster Eye Enthusiasts, and those who claimed unwavering loyalty to His Lordship.

Eira couldn’t help but feel that the latter sounded suspiciously like a stalker club. They met at night, whispering about his every move. If that wasn’t stalking, what was? Compared to them, the eyeball collectors seemed almost normal.

But of course, since all of this was discovered thanks to his own abilities, Eira had no choice but to pretend he knew nothing of these twisted hobbies.

“So, what kind of ‘special thing’ do you want?”

He pressed a finger to his throbbing temple. With this many administrators, why does my workload never get lighter? He was just thinking that when a shadow loomed over him. Yanu had silently approached and was now looming, looking down at him.

“Not here.”

Eira tried to push away the hand creeping up his neck—but it was like shoving a boulder. Yanu tilted his head and sniffed, then abruptly slid his hand into Eira’s collar.

“Eira, you’ve got a fever.”

“…Huh?”

Eira blinked slowly and touched his forehead. He hadn’t noticed himself—but yes, he wasn’t feeling great. Sighing, he set down his quill.

Yanu’s eyes drifted to the pebble on Eira’s hand. At some point, it had flattened like a melted rice cake, emitting a pitiful gurgling noise. The retainers looked on with concern. Ginas took off his glasses and stepped closer. The normally calm and collected chief steward looked worried.

“My Lord, I and Lord Gretel will take care of the rest. Please, go rest.”

“…I suppose I should.”

Eira smiled bitterly and stood. Ginas and Lan Gretel were two of the few retainers who worked themselves as hard as he did—so he felt guilty. But today, he really was worn out.

However, before he could take more than a few steps toward the exit, his vision spun. Yanu caught him quickly, lifting him into his arms. Eira tried to say something, but his consciousness blurred. His body heated up like fire, worsening at a frightening rate.

A groan escaped his lips.

“Ugh…”

“My Lord!”

As he heard the retainers calling him in panic, Eira lost consciousness completely.

❄

…What is this?

Eira blinked groggily. His whole body ached like he’d been beaten. After a few blinks, his vision cleared.

A round, smooth, transparent pebble was resting on his chest. After a moment, he remembered it was his artificial spirit. His head was so fuzzy that it had taken a while. The pebble, affected by its master’s condition, gurgled and squished like a melted rice cake.

“You’re awake.”

A pair of glowing red eyes flickered in the dark. Eira flinched slightly. The dragon, who had been silently waiting in the dark bedroom, leaned in close. Then, with a cold tongue, he slowly licked the sweat from Eira’s forehead. Eira grunted and tried to throw off the blanket tangled around his body—but quickly gave up.