Kiss the Stranger

Caught off guard, I just blinked in confusion. Rikal meowed and thrashed in my arms, bringing me back to my senses, yet I still felt dazed. When I relaxed my grip, he sprang out and began nosing around the spread of food.
“Rikal, no. Be good.”
I hurriedly scooped him back into my lap. Rikal squirmed to escape again. My mouth watered and my heart pounded, but I dared not touch anything.
“Um… excuse me… is it really all right if I eat this…?”
At my trembling voice, Meisa gave a wry smile and nodded.
“Of course. It’s all yours—eat as much as you like.”
I still could hardly believe it.
“Y-Your Highness truly… for me?”
“Yes.”
Meisa nodded again.
“He must have ordered it before his meeting. I told him you fell from the window because you were dizzy.”
She looked at me anxiously.
“That was an accident, right, Yohan?”
Relieved, she pressed her hand to her chest and smiled.
“Then enjoy your meal. Haven’t you been missing meals? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“How could I… And Zahara brought me bread every day, so I was fine.”
“Were you? You look thinner than before.”
Meisa frowned, then changed the subject.
“Eat before it gets cold. You’d be better off alone, wouldn’t you?”
She dismissed her attendants and rose herself.
“All right, Yohan. Eat in peace. When you’re done, let me know.”
With Meisa’s deliberate absence, I was left alone with Rikal. Still in disbelief, I blinked and murmured,
“Is this really happening, Rikal?”
The little body in my lap throbbed with life. I set a piece of roast lamb before him. He dove in greedily. As I watched, I dared glance back at the feast. Seeing the soft bread and steaming soup, I could wait no longer. I carefully lifted a roll—it was softer than anything I’d eaten in ages. Dipping it in soup, it melted on my tongue. Flavor flooded my senses, and I fell silent. Bread could be this delicious. I’d forgotten. Then everything went blank. When I came to again, my stomach was full.
I regretted not savoring each bite, but with a belly this full, I would sleep well. Before I could call Meisa, something occurred to me. I rose and opened the door. Meisa, waiting outside, looked surprised.

“Already finished? …Oh, you hardly ate anything. Was the food bad? Should I have them remake it?”
I gasped and shook my head.
“No—it was delicious. I’m full.”
“Really? It looked hardly touched.”
That couldn’t be. I was certain I’d eaten something—my belly wouldn’t lie.
“Maybe there was so much food it’s not obvious…”
Embarrassed, I said, and Meisa tilted her head, then ordered the dishes cleared without further question. She checked my wound and promised a full exam tomorrow, then took Rikal away.
“I’ll care for him tonight. Come to the infirmary in the morning, okay?”
“Yes… thank you.”
Still dazed, I handed over Rikal. Seeing him nuzzle Meisa’s chest, I felt a flicker of relief. Left alone, the evening’s events felt like a dream. Could it all really have happened?
The attendants had flung the windows open to air the room, and the night air seeped cold through my clothes. It chilled me to the bone—that proved it wasn’t a dream. I climbed into bed carefully. The medicine Meisa gave me took effect quickly, and I drifted off. Tonight I might not see Kamar—and that made me sad, but I couldn’t think further.
Cold…
I shivered awake to an icy room. My nose stung, and as I rubbed at it, I saw the windows still wide open. The warmth was gone. Summoning courage, I sat up to close them.
“Achoo.”
A blast of cold air made me sneeze. I sniffled and began to shut each window. The room’s size meant I had to walk ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) several steps—by the third window I was trembling. After the last one closed, my teeth chattered and I coughed. My stomach rumbled.
Right.
I remembered the stash I’d hidden for just such a night. I crouched and groped under the bed. It had been nearby, placed for easy reach. My fingers found the crumpled napkin. I pulled it out joyfully. Inside was the bread I’d hidden before the meal.
The crust was stiff, but the inside remained moist. I couldn’t help giggling as I tore off a piece and bit in. So good. I’d barely noticed earlier, but now every crumb was heavenly. Three pieces—three! I planned to eat one now and two tomorrow. But when I looked, only crumbs remained in my hand. I licked my fingers and gazed fondly at the napkin-wrapped loaves left.
Should I have one more…?
As I lifted another piece, I sensed something wrong. A chill of foreboding made me look up. There, leaning in the doorway with arms crossed, was Asgaile. Our eyes met at once.
Thud. The bread slipped from my hand. I froze, unable to retrieve it.
Since when had he been there?
I’d been too engrossed to notice. When had he come in? Where had he been watching from? What was he thinking?
Asgaile’s expression was unreadable—no hint of anger, no warmth. My body began to tremble again. I sank to the floor and backed away in panic. Asgaile’s brow creased. I gasped and my teeth chattered.
His gaze shifted downward, then he spoke.
“…What’s that? Were you going to eat it?”
His quiet voice bore no emotion. That at least meant he wasn’t angry—barely comforting, but still. Asgaile uncrossed his arms and stepped off the threshold. He began to approach me. I recoiled, but the bed blocked my retreat. He came closer, step by deliberate step. Each footfall multiplied my fear; my teeth chattered uncontrollably. I was terrified he’d be angry. I tried to tell him it wasn’t intentional, but no sound came. My mouth hung open, trembling.
“…Ugh.”
Suddenly I felt bile rise and vomited. Asgaile halted in my sight, but I couldn’t stop. I retched up the bread I’d just eaten. He murmured something low, and then shouted.
“Fetch Meisa!”
I went white and stared back, eyes wide.
Summoned in the dead of night, Meisa’s hair was wildly disheveled—she’d clearly been dragged from sleep. She examined me and reported to Asgaile.
“She likely has indigestion from eating suddenly. We should give her medicine and monitor her.”
“You said she barely ate anything.”
Asgaile’s voice dripped skepticism. Meisa glanced at me uneasily.
“She probably hasn’t eaten properly in days. Increasing her portions gradually will help.”
Asgaile thought, then nodded and dismissed her. Meisa patted my shoulder, left the room, and once more I was alone with Asgaile. The bread I’d clutched had already been confiscated; I’d tried to reach for it in vain. Despondent, I bowed my head.
“…That bread.”
After a long moment, Asgaile spoke. He still stood a few paces away.
“What was it? Why had you hidden it there?”
He’d clearly seen me rummaging under the bed. I answered hoarsely.
“I—I planned to eat it later, if I got hungry.”
He frowned.
“You could have asked.”
“Could I?”
I stared back, astonished. Asgaile’s expression softened for the first time—a look of incredulous disbelief that made my cheeks burn.
“I thought I’d been granted only one helping…”
My voice dwindled. He sighed.
“Aside from Hayden, what did you discuss?”
His unexpected question confused me.
“Not much… H asked… just….”
I trailed off, and suddenly Asgaile’s tone snapped.
“H called himself H?”
That surprised me. I stammered.
“Yes—he said to call him that…”
Silence fell again, cold and oppressive.