STABLE BOY ; Trash of the Count's Family

51. PHOSPHENES

"See, Cold Human? My name is Raon Mir! It is a great and perfect name for a mighty dragon like me!" he declared proudly, "it isn't weird like all the ones you thought up."

South sipped on his tea and wondered if he should tell the dragon his name is also a pun and thus is named exactly like how South names the horses.

...yeah, maybe not. Cale's giving him a warning look.

True. Let's not do that to a four-year-old. Those words exist in this world for Raon, and that'll perhaps be it. It doesn't have to be anything else, and no one has to ruin it for him.

"That's a great name. Should I call you Raon-nim now, then?"

He puffed his chest out proudly. "Yes! You may use my name, Cold Human!"

-

"Mama's boy!"

South turned to find Rosalyn, coming by the stables again. Now that people know she's a former princess, the other workers all give her a respective berth when she came by.

Only South didn't avoid her like some treasure of the nation, which was probably why she really liked coming by just to annoy him or something. South wasn't sure.

"It's an honour to see you today again, Lady Rosalyn."

"No no!" Rosalyn whined, "sheesh. You don't mind that I'm here and that's great, but your mouth is always so formal for no reason. Stop."

South decided to be a menace and say, "yes, my lady."

"No, not like that!"

South burst out into laughter and she seemed miffed, but not in an actually offended way. She actually seemed to be sulking more than she was actually annoyed.

"Your mischief is going to pass on to the children like this. You're a bad influence."

South hummed. "Then you better keep the children away from me. Who knows what my terrifyingly bad manners would do to such innocent children."

"You're making fun of me aren't you. You're making fun of a former princess."

"First you're complaining that I'm too formal, then you complain when I don't treat you like your stature. Make up your mind, Lady."

"Well at least other people are consistent!"

After Rosalyn, Choi Han, and Lock went and apparently annihilated a kingdom overnight or something, they've been at the estate getting ready for the trip to the Whipper Kingdom.

"Anyways—" Rosalyn sat down on the crates by where South was brushing one of the horses, "I came to check on you. I didn't have time back then, but I know what I saw."

"Whuh?" South didn't know what she was talking about at first, but then recalled. "The Plaza incident was so long ago."

"That's how long I've been gone, yes," she said.

She levelled him with a very weighted, question-filled gaze of skepticism.

With a sigh, South took off one glove and held out his hand. With a smile she took it and inspected it with her magic— taking a moment to focus with her eyes closed.

When she looked back up a thim again, her skepticism was replaced with morose confusion. She didn't understand it, and that made her worry— because she wouldn't know how to deal with it as their group's best mage in the future.

"Incredible. There's a faint trace of it," she said. "But the impact itself is completely gone. No scars, no wounds— just the path the magical bomb once took through your body, like some kind of phosphenes along where the wound healed instantly."