Kiss the Stranger

The footsteps stopped not far from us. A hush fell. I cautiously looked up: Zaqriya, facing the steward, spoke.
“It's late—what do you intend to do now? Could we step outside for tea and talk a while?”

I glanced at the steward. He smiled and replied courteously.
“I’m honored, Lord Zaqriya, but I’m quite fatigued by being in unfamiliar surroundings. I’d like to retire and rest.”
Zaqriya frowned his eyebrows, then offered again.

“Pity. How about I come to your quarters tomorrow afternoon?”
He sounded as if he had something he desperately wanted to hear. The steward smiled again, still polite.
“I wish to devote the daytime hours to my research. Please understand.”

“……”
After a moment’s silence, Zaqriya spoke.
“You’re not avoiding me, are you?”
“Not at all,” the steward quickly waved his hand, denying it. “It’s only that I have no leisure while attending the Crown Prince’s directives. As you know.”

Zaqriya’s eyes narrowed like a snake’s. He glanced around, then lowered his voice.
“Don’t misunderstand—I merely wished to learn how His Highness’s health fares, for the sake of the kingdom and the crown.”
“Yes, of course. Your loyalty is well known, Lord Zaqriya.”

The steward continued smoothly. “But I have just begun in this role, and I have little to report. Even if you visit my quarters, I would have nothing to say. Truly. You know I entered the palace only recently and have only just begun examining His Highness. I’m still assessing his condition, so I have nothing substantial to discuss now.”
He sounded sincere. Zaqriya stared at him for a moment, then relaxed his expression.
“Very well, then I have nothing more to say. A shame—I thought it would be a good chance to support His Highness.”

“Please do ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) not worry. I’m sure His Highness already knows your intentions.”
“Indeed.”
Zaqriya muttered to himself with a still-smiling face.

“I know too well to be a problem.”
He added offhandedly, “Well then, take care. If you need anything, let me know. I share His Highness’s constitution, after all.”
“Thank you. Have a pleasant evening.”

The steward concluded his greeting, wheeled my chair, and left. I felt Zaqriya’s gaze but lacked the courage to look back. Only once we reached the corridor did the steward finally exhale above my head.
“What a headache the power struggles of the mighty are.”
“You did well, Steward….”

I offered softly; he shook his head.
“No, Yohan, you endured most of it. That was hard—you held up so well.”
“Yes….”

At my reply, tears swelled again. I bit my lower lip to hold back sobs, but they spilled onto my hands. The steward sighed.
“Yohan… haah.”
He rose, retrieved a handkerchief, knelt before me, and spoke gently.
“Yohan, this isn’t the time for such talk, but remaining at the palace is too dangerous. Here, you’re like a rabbit trapped in a cage of beasts. If your status as an omega is discovered, heaven knows what they’d do. I know how you feel, but you should return to the inn and wait.”

He hesitated mid-sentence, scratched his head, and continued.
“I can’t escort you immediately—it’s too soon since you ventured out—but I’ll arrange a date as soon as possible. Until then, stay in my quarters and don’t go out, okay?”
I dabbed my tears with the handkerchief and asked quietly,

“There’s no chance the Crown Prince is Kamar, is there? Just someone who resembles him…?”
My voice trembled with sobs. After a ragged breath I added,
“Kamar would never say those things.”

“He’s someone else, Yohan. Trust me.”
The steward spoke firmly, but I felt as though he lied. He hesitated, averted his eyes, and muttered,
“I can’t entirely dismiss the doubt…”

He paused, then added,
“I sought information everywhere—everything about the Crown Prince is classified. But from what I’ve pieced together, the Crown Prince has not appeared for over six months. That timeframe roughly matches.”
“The period when Kamar and I were together?”

The steward nodded and continued,
“And after Kamar departed, Prince Asgail appeared at the palace.”
Could such a coincidence be possible? Even so, I wanted to deny it. Perhaps that was why the steward kept insisting it wasn’t true.

I don’t want to believe it.
I unconsciously clenched the hand resting on my lap.
“If—if his memories returned…”

I spoke with difficulty,
“Why doesn’t he recognize me? Is he pretending not to know me?”
If Kamar had abandoned me—

“He wouldn’t pretend.”
Tears welled again. The steward spoke softly.
“They say sometimes when one regains lost memories, one can forget the period spent without them. So if the Crown Prince and Kamar were the same, he might have met you while still amnesiac, and then, upon recovering his memory, forgot that interval….”

He mercilessly forced me to face that reality. Overcome, I sobbed and asked,
“Is there any possibility… that he could remember me again?”
“Yohan….”

The steward reached out, but my vision blurred. I barely managed to ask,
“Will Kamar… have forgotten me forever?”
I love you.

Could he never say that to me again? Never look at me, speak to me, hold me.
I love you. I want to be with you, always.
Yohan.

I don’t care that you’re an omega. I don’t care about anything. I, Yohan, love you.
I love you.
Never again.

“Haah….”
I couldn’t hold back and wept loudly, burying my face in my hands.
For a while, days passed quietly. My health gradually improved, and the steward, as if on a mission, diligently ordered me meals. I grew noticeably stronger—and, best of all, my eyesight sharpened slightly, bringing me joy.

“I think I can work again.”
One day I said this; the steward shook his head.
“Not yet. You came as my assistant—you must help me first.”

Of course, I worked hard—finding materials, tidying the lab, and such.
But I was forbidden to leave the room.
“Just one month more.”

The steward repeated whenever he could. Now that I was in the palace, I could only go out once a month, and he planned to take me with him on the next outing. Until then, I must soothe myself by looking out the window. One day, however, I awoke to perfect silence. I tried to sleep again, but my mind was too clear. Cautiously, I rose and quietly opened the door.
The steward lay asleep on the long sofa in the lab, clothes still on, clearly having dozed off while meaning to rest briefly. I had offered to sleep on another bed, but he refused—my presence in the lab while I slept made his research difficult, he said.
His reasoning made sense, but seeing him like this always filled me with guilt. I could only wait until the day I could venture out again.

I’m sorry.
I whispered an apology as I turned, took the thin blanket from my own bed, and draped it over him. I gently removed his glasses from the bridge of his nose and placed them on the table. Seeing his face so peacefully asleep made me smile unconsciously.
The clock read well past midnight. I stood for a moment, blinking dully. The night sky outside the window glowed silver, dotted with stars—just as in the desert.

Hesitating, I moved toward the door as if in a trance. The soft click didn’t wake him. I glanced back, confirmed he was sleeping, then closed the door behind me and stepped into the corridor.
Haah.
A breath of cool night air cleared my head. I checked my bearings and walked on.

As I had expected, the hallway was deserted—everyone must be fast asleep. My heart pounded. It had been over a week since I’d last stepped outside. Breathing outdoor air after so long felt like life itself.
Back then, Kamar was with me.
A pang struck my nose—I shook my head. A sigh followed.

What will I do now…?
A faint sweet scent lingered—perhaps because I was thinking of Kamar. Usually I brushed it aside as a hallucination, but with each step the scent grew stronger, and unease prickled me.
At last, I saw the ornate garden ahead. A gust of cool wind carried the scent sharply. I stopped in my tracks.

Kamar.
No—Prince Asgail stood there.