Canillian smiled proudly at his playful praise and continued walking, with Claude following closely behind. Claude didn’t miss a detail as he watched Canillian’s small strides, wide swinging of the arms, and his excited expression as he looked at his surroundings. He didn’t know what the emotion that was stirring inside him was. Being aroused by a boy, and kissing him, was a mistake, and saying Canillian’s name to a strange girl was also a mistake. He was unhappy with those mistakes, and it felt as if he’d acted on impulse rather than rationality, which he hated.

There were many reasons why Kieran didn’t return to Cosoar during the four years he lived in Geore, but there was one reason in particular. The face that he remembered every time it snowed was an uncomfortable memory. But why did that kid keep appearing in front of him?

As Claude followed the happy Canillian, who looked like an excited child as he wandered around the city, they found themselves in front of the St. Matthew statue in the city square, which also had the most beautiful view of the Leon River. And, it was also next to Duke Ihar’s townhouse.

Seeing all the people gather in the area for a picnic made Canillian smile broadly, “The people in Ataer look so relaxed. They all look wealthy too.”

“Darkness follows light. The brighter the light, the darker the darkness. Don’t assume everyone will be like that,” Claude warned.

His eyes crossed the river to another city, and Canillian turned her head to follow his gaze. With her height, which only reached Claude’s shoulders, and her thin body that Claude could wrap one arm around, Canillian felt the chill of the breeze easier, which caused her to shudder.

“The people living in the darkness do not know they are living in the dark. Not knowing is probably better for them. Getting used to that lifestyle is why that is dangerous.”

“Why do you think that way? Are you saying the people living in darkness are satisfied with their life?”

“I don’t know for sure. Happiness is relative. Seeing people different to me, better than me, brings unhappiness. By not knowing at all, it means they expect their life to be like that. I suppose it’s slightly different to being satisfied or not.” The moment Canillian wrinkled his forehead and became lost in thought, Claude saw a woman’s face in his. Trying to distract himself from his disturbing thoughts, he called out, “Canillian.”

“Yes?” As Canillian turned to face him, Claude faintly smiled and pointed to the colorful store diagonally across the street. It was the same place they had passed by in the carriage earlier. The shop sold cotton candy that was so sweet, it hurt one’s tongue.

“You suit sweet thoughts more than difficult ones.”

Canillian, whose eyes were sparkling at the thought of candy, turned her head, pouting, “Just because I like sweet things, please don’t treat me like a child.”

“I’m not treating you like a child because you are a child.”

“Then that means you are not an adult either.”

“You are right. I am still young. I am senseless, young, rash, and I make mistakes.” At his acknowledging manner, Canillian turned away to show that she didn’t want to speak to him further.

Claude found him amusing. Although being around him sometimes was uncomfortable, it was also fun, and even though he got irritated at times, he wanted to continue seeing Canillian’s face.

Claude left Canillian and walked over to the shop where the people, who were receiving their candy, and the store owner, all bowed in respect to him.

“Welcome!” The store owner said gleefully.

“Please give me the sweetest candy you have,” Claude said.

“Is it a gift?” Lia asked and Claude nodded, and the owner was ecstatic as he put some yellow candy in a glass jar.

There were two types of men who bought candy here: fathers buying candy for their children because they wanted to restrict sugar from them at home, and boys who bought gifts for the girl they loved; the unmarried Duke would be the latter.

The store owner stretched his neck out, looking for the girl who would receive this gift soon. But the only person outside was Canillian, swallowing his saliva as he waited. Flustered, the owner looked back and forth at Claude and Canillian before adding some blue candy to the jar with a bashful expression, “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I put in two flavors. Have a nice day.”

The jar that the owner hurriedly decorated with a white satin ribbon was sweet even just looking at it. As he walked out of the shop, after paying for the candy, he saw Canillian’s eyes fixated on the jar in his hands, “Do you think it’s for you?”

At his mischievous question, Canillian felt highly embarrassed and shook her head, “No! That’s not it. I heard Her Ladyship, Marilyn, has recovered. I think she will be delighted to receive this gift.” Lia didn’t understand why she was acting like this nor why she felt oddly jealous.

As Claude thought to himself, Canillian searched inside the well-stocked candy store, and then without regret, turned around and left. She then walked confidently towards a flock of pigeons but was frightened by the sound of their flapping wings and jumped back.

A strange sense of embarrassment had crept up on her, and the inside of her neck felt suffocated. And as if she’d eaten something rotten, her stomach felt clogged, and it was hard to breathe.

Claude, meanwhile, found a landau carriage waiting in the city and then walked towards Canillian, who was tiptoeing towards the birds sitting on the fountain. Walking up to him, he gently pulled his shoulder and said, “It is yours.”

“What?”

“Marilyn Shelby doesn’t like sweet foods.” Shoving the candy in Canillian’s hand, he grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the carriage that was waiting for them.

Feeling confused, Canillian stared at the candy jar and then looked at Claude, and both her ears became red as she stuttered, “T-t-thank you.”

Claude mumbled something and then sank his head. The crazy one was not just himself. Silently he stared at Canillian’s red cheeks and ears and then said, “Now that you have seen the light, you must experience darkness.” Claude met eyes with the coachman, who was looking at him expectantly for a destination, and he instructed, “To Louvre. North entrance.”