A Strange Quiet
The Aurekawa Citadel was gripped by a quiet that felt colder than winter. Lord Henudra was in jail, locked away for treason. The kingdom was safe, but the court was not convinced.
Henudra's last words—that the young King was cursed and that Neshuda was a dangerous stray—had done their work. The nobles moved around Hayate with respectful caution, but their eyes held suspicion.
Hayate, the pure-hearted King, tried to ignore the whispers. He forced himself to focus on the kingdom's ledgers, but his concentration was always drawn to Neshuda.
Neshuda stood a few paces behind the throne, a picture of perfect, unmoving discipline. He was the ideal Guardian: silent, watchful, and deadly. He knew his emotions were the key to Hayate's health , so he kept them locked down, allowing only the steady, comforting hum of his absolute loyalty to reflect to the King.
"I hate this silence, Neshuda," Hayate murmured one evening, staring into the flickering hearth. "It feels like a trap is setting, and we can't see the strings."
"Then we will wait for the strings to move, Hayate," Neshuda replied, his voice a low, steady anchor. "We are ready."
But the trap had already sprung. It just wasn't the kind of trap they expected.
Enter Lord Qalvetta
A new man stepped into the political void left by Henudra: Lord Qalvetta.
Qalvetta was the perfect courtier. He was young, handsome, and highly educated. Where Henudra was rigid and cold, Qalvetta was smooth, charming, and endlessly complimentary.
Qalvetta approached Hayate not as a rival, but as a devoted friend.
"Your Majesty, you are a beacon of the Angelic bloodline," Qalvetta would say, his voice sincere and warm. "Your pure-hearted nature is a treasure. But a treasure needs a strong vault. I am here to be the practical mind that defends your idealism."
Qalvetta quickly charmed the skeptical nobles. He constantly praised Hayate, but with a subtle undertone: The King is too gentle and young to handle the harsh truths of governance.
Qalvetta immediately saw the problem: Neshuda. Qalvetta understood that he couldn't challenge the Guardian's master of sword and stealth. So, Qalvetta chose to attack Neshuda's soul.
The Disappearing Gold
The first sabotage was a masterpiece of misdirection.
Hayate was meeting with the new treasury officials when the Chief Treasurer, a nervous, older man, collapsed onto the floor.
"It's gone, Your Majesty! The funds! And the records!" the Treasurer cried, waving empty scrolls. "Five thousand gold pieces! Vanished without a trace from the sealed vault!"
Hayate felt a violent stab of alarm and anxiety reflected from Neshuda, who was standing right behind the King. The curse instantly amplified Neshuda's silent panic, causing Hayate's hands to tremble.
The nobles, already suspicious, immediately started whispering.
"The vault was locked!" one snapped. "Only someone with the ability to move unseen—a true master of stealth—could have accessed that vault!"
Again, no one named Neshuda, but the implication was heavy. Neshuda's strength was his weakness.
Qalvetta, looking sad, walked over to Hayate. "Your Majesty, you must allow an outside investigation. The kingdom must trust your court. And currently, the court fears those who move like shadows."
Qalvetta's eyes held no malice, only calm, logical concern. But Hayate could feel the reflected emotion of smug, quiet satisfaction from Qalvetta's proximity—a sharp, unpleasant feeling of a plan succeeding.
Hayate ordered the investigation, but he felt utterly defeated. He knew the money was gone, and that his Anchor was being perfectly framed.
The Scapegoat's Shame
The second blow was devastating and public.
A frantic messenger arrived from Hoshimura, the grain town where Hayate and Neshuda were ambushed months ago. The emergency grain storage, the one meant to feed the poor through the winter, had burned to the ground.
"The villagers are starving, Your Majesty!" the messenger cried. "They are forming a rebellion! They are crying that the King is neglecting them!"
Hayate's heart ached with genuine sadness for his people. But the political attack was immediate.
Qalvetta, looking utterly heartbroken for the farmers, presented the new evidence.
"Look, Your Majesty," Qalvetta said, holding up a small, burnt piece of leather. "This was found near the fire site. It carries the mark of a bandit group from the Mori no Kage region. The same place, Your Majesty, where The Shadow was found, years ago."
The nobles erupted in shouts. The two pieces of evidence—the theft by a master of stealth, and the arson by a bandit from Neshuda's past—formed a perfect, damning narrative.
Hayate turned to Neshuda, his eyes filled with absolute trust. He tried to project confidence. "My Guardian is loyal. This is a fabrication by Henudra's remaining network!"
But Neshuda himself was breaking. He felt the cold, hard weight of the evidence—the destruction of Hoshimura, the anger of the nobles, and the King's frantic, desperate defense.
The curse flared violently. Neshuda's internal emotional collapse—a tsunami of injustice, self-loathing, and crushing guilt—hit Hayate like a physical blow.
Hayate cried out, his legs buckling. He collapsed against the throne, coughing violently. He felt a sharp, ripping sensation in his lungs, and when he managed to cover his mouth, his hand came away wet with blood.
The council hall fell into panicked silence. Everyone saw the King, the Angel bloodline, bleeding and collapsing simply because his Guardian was accused.
Neshuda, seeing the crimson smear on Hayate's hand, froze. I did this. I am killing him. His terror was absolute. He immediately used his iron will to crush the emotional storm inside him.
The physical pain in Hayate subsided instantly, replaced by a devastating emotional void. Neshuda had succeeded in protecting Hayate from the curse's full force, but only by burying his own soul.
The Tragic Choice
That evening, Hayate was confined to his bed, weak and pale. Neshuda stood guard, his face a mask of cold resignation.
"You saw it," Neshuda whispered, his voice empty. "The slightest accusation against me, and your body reacts. Qalvetta is winning because he knows I cannot control my emotional response to your pain."
"He is poisoning your mind, Neshuda," Hayate pleaded, reaching out a trembling hand. "He is forcing you to feel guilty. Don't fall for his manipulation!"
Neshuda didn't take the hand. He looked down at the King with an expression of intense, self-sacrificing loyalty.
"I cannot stay here, Hayate," Neshuda said, his voice raw. "If I stay, Qalvetta will continue to frame me, and I will continue to bleed you dry. I am your weakness."
Hayate's eyes filled with sudden, desperate tears. "But you are my Anchor! If you leave, the bond will snap! I will collapse from the reflected pain of your abandonment!"
Neshuda knew this was true. The Curse of Reflection would turn Neshuda's absence into Hayate's death sentence. But Neshuda believed the short, sharp agony of abandonment was better than the slow, agonizing death by political sabotage.
"I will not leave you, my King," Neshuda said, his voice regaining a fierce strength. "I will simply move the battleground. I will go to the south—to the villages, to Mori no Kage—and hunt the true network. I will clear my name by destroying the roots of Henudra's conspiracy."
The Final Farewell
Neshuda spent his final hours in the Citadel preparing. He wrote a short, simple note:
Your Majesty,
I cannot be your shield while I am your weakness. I must leave to hunt the conspiracy that is framing me. You must appear strong and unattached to the nobles. This is the only way to save the kingdom and your life.
Do not follow. Do not look for me.
Your loyal Shadow.
Neshuda placed the note on Hayate's pillow. He looked at the sleeping King one last time, his dark eyes filled with unbearable, profound sorrow and absolute devotion. This self-imposed exile was the greatest, most painful act of love he could give.
He silently slipped out of the private chambers and vanished into the cold pre-dawn air, leaving the Aurekawa Citadel.
When Hayate woke and read the note, the truth crashed down on him. He rushed to Neshuda's empty room, screaming his Anchor's name.
The Curse of Reflection delivered Neshuda's farewell as a catastrophic emotional wound. Hayate collapsed to the marble floor, the pain of absolute abandonment—Neshuda's final, devastating wave of self-loathing and necessary rejection—tearing through his heart.
Hayate lay on the cold floor, shaking, weeping, and unable to move. The conspirators had won the first psychological battle. The King was alone, heartbroken, and the Fallen Crown Conspiracy had officially begun.