Chapter 21 - Prince Red Riding Hood

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Chapter 21

 

 

The next morning—after breakfast—Lil asked the head chef to prepare two small jars filled with white butter. Placing only those into a basket, he set out on his journey.

 

When asked where he was headed, he replied, "To the former head chef's home. Yesterday, I only watched him make the biscuits in silence. Today, I want to learn how to make them myself and return with something handmade."

 

It wasn't a lie. He truly intended to do just that.

 

Lil regretted not making the biscuits with his own hands the day before.

 

His grandmother had been delighted simply to receive the biscuits he brought back from his long walk, and she'd even shared them with his mother in the tower. If they had been handmade by him, it would have been even more meaningful.

 

The joy in his grandmother's heart would surely have deepened, and his mother—if she were to taste something he had made with his own hands—perhaps that would reach her in a way words could not.

 

The thought that his mother might eat something he baked made Lil's heart dance.

 

During this short birthday reprieve, I want to see Klaus as much as I can. If he doesn't fall in love with me before the full moon… then we may be forced to say goodbye. But maybe—just maybe—I could find a way for him to stay forever. If he became a swordsmanship or archery instructor, maybe he could work at the castle…

 

Draped once again in his red, hooded cloak, Lil walked into the northern forest.

 

His plan was to meet Klaus while the sun was still high, and hand him one of the butter jars.

 

Then, he would head to the former head chef's house to learn how to bake those same hazelnut and apple biscuits. The second jar of butter would serve as a gift for that visit.

 

Beneath a sky of pale clouds, Lil carried the heavy basket deeper into the forest.

 

Today, he didn't come across the woodcutters, and so his walk was silent and uninterrupted.

 

He switched the basket from his right hand to his left, sometimes carrying it with both hands, sometimes hooking the handle around his arm to relieve the strain in his fingers—making small adjustments as he went, until he neared the old watchtower.

 

He stepped off the caravan road and into the woods, surveying the area near the Strawberry Snow.

 

He carefully checked to make sure no one from the castle had followed him, that no woodcutters or villagers from the northern settlements had spotted him. He scanned behind him, to both sides, and finally fixed his gaze beyond the sacred barrier.

 

Crossing the barrier was, strictly speaking, forbidden—but it wasn't a crime against God. Even if someone saw him, the worst he'd suffer would be admonishment: "How reckless for a prince."

 

But if a wild beast were to attack him beyond the barrier, the consequences would be dire. He needed to be careful.

 

There were no signs of animals between the watchtower and the pale red snow. Lil stepped forward, his boots sinking into the soft surface.

 

Passing through the holy barrier didn't feel like anything in particular—but when he looked back, his footprints disappeared. As always, only the white snow behind the barrier retained any trace of his steps.

 

Now that I've given myself to another man and lost my purity… If I walk through this barrier again, will the wrath of God consume me in fire? Will I become an accursed being, like the magic-infused great wolves? Or… will God forgive my love?

 

I want to believe it was divine guidance that led me to Klaus, that every chance and coincidence was heaven's design. But what if this is a test? A trial to see if I can forsake love for faith? To measure whether I'm worthy to become king someday…

 

As he felt the divine grace that protected Vallcent and its people, his gratitude deepened—but so did his fear of God.

 

Should he really see Klaus again? Was it truly right to grow closer to him?

 

These questions filled him with dread. Each step toward the watchtower felt heavier than the last.

 

The faintly red snow seemed to darken into blood, spreading swiftly behind him—as if it would surge forward at any moment and swallow him whole, cloak and all.

 

The thought of being burned alive in divine fire made his blood run cold. The terror was so real it stiffened his limbs… and yet, he kept walking. Kept moving toward the place where Klaus awaited him.

 

Beneath the hazy sky that threatened snow, Lil ran up the stairs of the tower.

 

He knocked at the door and called Klaus's name. He couldn't bring himself to declare "I fear no god," nor could he say "I fear no punishment." But even so—he just wanted to see him.

 

"Prince Liladry."

 

The door opened, and the figure he had longed to see filled his vision.

 

Silver-white hair. Sun-kissed skin that glowed with youthful health. Irises the color of pale aquamarine, with deep sapphire pupils. A low, clear voice that resonated with strength.

 

Klaus Grant stood before him.

 

Lil drank in the sight and sound of him—but it wasn't enough.

 

He wanted Klaus to recognize him. To like him. To want him.

 

To be touched, and to touch back. To shatter all restraint before the full moon arrived.

 

"Klaus… Klaus, yesterday I… I spoke to my grandmother. I told her of the people's suffering. I pleaded with her. She promised to have the situation investigated, and to begin reforms. It won't be in time for this next full moon, but the one after—we'll make it. She said so herself. The lottery that's brought so much pain to the people will soon become a system of volunteers. No one will ever be forced to become a sacrifice again… not a single person."

 

Lil's voice trembled with emotion, but he delivered the words to the very end.

 

At first, what he'd felt most was pride. But now, it was a deeper joy that filled his heart.

 

His grandmother—the Queen—had listened and understood. He had begun to grasp what role he must play: how to use his position, as someone who could walk among the people and also speak freely with the Queen, to truly support her. And most important of all—fewer people would suffer for the sake of peace. The change would not be perfect—not until a saint arose to destroy the Wolf King's bloodline—but it was the closest they could come for now. And that gave Lil genuine happiness.

 

"You did well. You've become a fine prince."

 

Those much-longed-for words slipped from Klaus's lips.

 

A firm hand came to rest on Lil's head, over the hood of his cloak.

 

Looking up as that hand gently tousled his hair, Lil saw a faint, sorrowful smile on Klaus's face.

 

There was a strange dissonance between his expression and his words. Tilting his head slightly, Lil tried to catch another angle.

 

Yes, it was a smile—but the light never reached his eyes.

 

The longer he looked, the more that sadness seemed to shift, becoming something else.

 

Was it pity? Was Klaus burdened by some conflict of his own? Though his mouth smiled, his eyes seemed to harbor something unspoken—and Lil, unable to read those subtleties, felt his own immaturity acutely.

 

"Um… is something troubling you?"

 

"I can't say it isn't. There's less than a week left before the full moon decides my fate. Whether I become a wolf or not—whether I become a sinner or not—depends on what I choose. How could I not be shaken, seeing your princely kindness and heart?"

 

"You… you really are shaken? Truly?"

 

"Oh, shaken to my core," Klaus said, playfully gesturing with his hands. "Because you're both a bad boy and a very good prince."

 

He said it with a teasing lilt, but that only made it more precious to Lil.

 

Even so, he didn't feel as though he'd received the full answer to the sorrow in Klaus's gaze.

 

"Thank you. I'm really happy you said that…"

 

There was still a cloud in his heart. But even so—Klaus had praised him. That much was true.

 

Was Klaus in pain because he was sad about defying God? Because the guilt of sin was too heavy to bear? Or perhaps… was it because he couldn't accept this love, and was beginning to pity Lil?

 

There was no way to know—not yet.

 

There's less than a week left until the full moon. But that also means… I still have six whole days. However Klaus feels now, if I don't give up, there's still a chance.

 

After all—he's standing here in front of me, showing me a face I hadn't seen the day before, or the day before that. His gaze is complicated. Uncertain. If he keeps wavering, if he keeps trying to push me away and failing… then maybe in the end, he'll want me. The way a wolf longs for its mate.

 

Resolving to remain hopeful, Lil reached into the basket and took out one of the two butter jars.

 

He couldn't read Klaus completely—couldn't tell what was true and what was a facade—but he did know one thing: Klaus had a weakness for rich, fragrant butter.

 

He had once said that if happiness had a flavor, it would taste exactly like this. If Klaus was truly struggling right now, Lil wanted at least to offer him a taste of that happiness.

 

"Klaus, I brought more freshly made butter today. I'm sure, knowing you, you already finished the jar I gave you yesterday—didn't you?"

 

"Ah, it was so delicious, I devoured it at once."

 

Even as he spoke, Klaus's eyes stayed fixed on Lil's red irises. He didn't even glance at the jar of butter. Instead of reaching out for it, his hand came once more to Lil's head, brushing softly over his hair.

 

"Klaus… only six days remain until the full moon."

 

"That's right."

 

His answer came curtly, as though he were trying to distance himself from his emotions. But the next moment, he leaned in—his face drawing closer to Lil's.

 

Lil realized he was about to be kissed, and just that thought sent sparks through every inch of him. He marveled at how quickly his blood stirred, how fast his body responded, his temperature rising in a rush of breathless anticipation.

 

"Mm…"

 

He was so captivated by those mysterious blue eyes that he didn't notice until his lips were already taken.

 

Klaus's kiss was deep, engulfing—his mouth, his tongue, his lips… it felt like he was being devoured whole.

 

Klaus… fall for me deeper. Let yourself be consumed by this love…

 

Soon Lil was breathless, unable to keep up, but the taste of the kiss itself filled him with joy.

 

There was no taste of butter—no flavor of happiness as Klaus once described it—and yet, that made Lil even happier.

 

Because this was no sweet indulgence. It was a pure and unadulterated kiss.

 

 

 

 

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