STABLE BOY ; Trash of the Count's Family

14. HANGOVER FEVERS

"Oh dear, it's really okay. Don't worry about it."

"Again I'm so so sorry... if I knew I wouldn't have allowed it—"

"It's not your fault ahjussi. He's always like this. Don't worry, he'll be fine."

"I wish him a good recovery."

Cale was honestly fairly impressed. Choi Han didn't need any alibi, and Cale himself was going to take a hangover drink to pretend to be too drunk to rob someone— but it seemed like South had a perfect cover as well.

The coachman couldn't drag South out of the stables, so he just let the stable boy continue to sleep. It seemed like even the horses knew he was sick, they were all crowded around him like they were trying to keep him warm.

"This is why we tell you not to drink. You hold your liquor well, but a hangover can kill you," the coachman scolded him. "Your body temperature is already low because of your sleep attacks, why are you so reckless."

South whimpered into the horses' back. "Why am I getting lectured when I already feel like dyinnngggggg..."

"Because you never learn your lesson. Get up already, I told Vicross-nim to make you some soup."

It was probably also this bad because of the severe blood loss last night.

"Go put him on a bed, don't be stupid."

"We would, Young Master," Ron told him, "but the horses are very possessive over their foals when they're sick. I don't think it's worth it."

-

"The only one of my men that left was the stable boy, who went with the innkeeper and local barmaid to help bring your drinks.That boy is sick right now because his body can't handle alcohol, and you have the gall to suspect he is a thief?"

Hillsman may have been kind to the old man, but he knew when to use his anger.

The innkeeper felt rather troubled that Hillsman was directing all that anger at the messenger rather than him, who brought South up to begin with. No one suspected him or the barmaid because he was old and she was a woman— but South was a different matter.

"He is just one child with a small body! How could he have hurt so many of your men in the night? Have some common sense!"

Cale watched, very amused.

South was twenty, but he was quite small for his age. That was certainly useful.

Hillsman was a good knight, even if he was kind of a suck up sometimes. He had little respect for Cale right now, but he was protective of people under his care.

"You were all drinking before night fell! How is it our problem that you were too incompetent to stop someone from breaking in? Do you think you can just put the blame on anyone suitable and your master will forgive you?"

He slammed the door in their faces.

-

"Damn that knight!" the messenger snapped, kicking the fence as he tried to decide how he had to report back to his superiors now.

"Hehe, sorry, he can be quite fierce..."

South wandered toward him with a bowl of soup, sipping on it while looking up at the sky. He had a shawl wrapped around his shoulders.

"You... what, you really are sick," the knight of the Stan house saw him and the anger in his gaze softened immediately. "You okay, server boy? We were surprised to hear you actually serve the Henituse."

"I'm okay, Knight Orabuni."

South pulled down his sleeve, and reached for the bandages around his wrist. With a sly smile growing on his face, he turned to the knight.

"And you're not going to tell anyone about it, okay?"

"Huh?"

He peeled down the bandages, and found the mark for this knight. He was the head knight of that summer house, so his was the biggest sword tattoo right on his artery, a hole from where South stabbed himself was still in his flesh.

Showing the tattoos all to the knight, South told him—

"You're going to forget ever meeting me. I was never here, and you never interacted with me," he said. "Only noona and ahjussi were up there on that mountain. Got it?"

"What are you even sayin—"

South snapped his fingers, and rubbed over the tattoo with his other hand. It smeared away like watercolours, flowing away from his skin onto the ground. All of the swords were brushed out of his skin, until all that was left was a blank canvas of skin.

The wound remained, but the knight's words trailed off, and he seemed confused about what he was even doing here.

"Please travel safe, sir," he said. "I'm sure it must have been difficult coming down all this way after... ah, yes, there was a robbery last night, right? I hope that gets sorted soon."

And the knight's face immediately twisted with annoyance.

He looked at South like he was an enemy, scowling with gritted teeth. "Something is wrong with all of you people from the Henituse County," he snarled, "the rude knight, the garbage young master that drinks in daylight... what a joke!"

He marched away, and South waved as he went.

Wrapping back his wrist clumsily, he smiled sadly to himself.

"...I see."

When he wiped away the tattoos, the person forgot everything about him. That was how it was all supposed to work, he already knew that. It was always convenient.

"But I guess I'm not getting the old ones back, after all," he kind of missed the flame tattoos that used to be there. It was one of his first ones ever. Sure he couldn't use them anymore, but they were sentimental. "I guess they were overwritten because they were useless, but I wish I knew that first."

Usually, they only disappeared when the person died. South could also rub them off on his own, but even when they all forgot him, he always remembered. That was the price.

He found himself looking at the sky again.

"...I guess that means that, when all these old tattoos are gone, my existence will be erased from my previous world too..."

He tried not to be sad about it.

There was a painful throbbing in his chest, but he blamed that on his sickness.