Ivor looked at the royal knights who surrounded him. They were staring at him with a mix of relief and sympathy. Which was understandable. He had been nestled on top of the tree like some caveman, let alone the state of his clothes and hair and all the petty injuries that littered his body.

The knights bowed down as their leader, the central one—his armor gave away that he was the leader—bowed even lower than his subordinates. His armor had hints of gold littered across it along with its silver grandness.

He spoke mournfully. “Third prince, please forgive us for the delay. An extensive interrogation is taking place in the capital to find the culprits of this sin.”

The culprits were his brothers. Ivor knew this, and he also knew that the royal knights knew this. But the flowery words they were giving him were only to be expected. They were trying to soothe him, after all.

They were failing at it, but an attempt was an attempt. He couldn’t really diss their attempt.

Suddenly, he felt curious. What if…?

No.

Bad idea.

He couldn’t ask the knights to give some of their lifespan in exchange for his ‘forgiveness’. It’d probably work and they’d agree, but they’d also definitely spread that he was some sort of black mage. His brothers would pounce at that opportunity.

Not worth it.

“Alright,” he mumbled. Guess he could only begin gathering lifespan once he reached the capital. “I forgive you. Move. I am leaping from this tree.”

They moved as soon as he’d finished speaking, and Ivor leapt down from the tree. 

“Guide me to the carriage,” he ordered. He needed a long, long nap. Even his brothers wouldn’t attempt anything with the royal knights themselves present. The royal knights listened to no one but the king, so their betrayal was not a possibility either.

Gosh, even the rocky carriage would probably feel like heaven to him.

—

James called Archaniel after a day passed. Life in the shop was rather peaceful. Eat, play, read, sleep, maybe do some exercise if he wanted to in the mountainous forest outside.

It seemed the shop changed locations within the world itself, probably every other day or after he interacted with a customer—something his senior had probably forgotten to mention, but James was pretty decent at guesswork and extrapolation.

His senior answered his call, his voice tinged with concern. “What happened, junior? Do you have any questions?”

“No, no, senior. I just wanted to ask if you met my sister.”

His senior paused for a second before giggling. “Oh, junior. Have you forgotten that time passes quicker in your world? It’s only been fourteen minutes since I arrived on Earth. Give me at least a few hours, if not a day, for me to find and introduce myself to your sister.”

James paused. Right. Time was wonky in this world, wasn’t it? “I… I see. Got it, senior. So when should I call you?”

“The ratio is a hundred days to one day on Earth, but I do understand that that would be far too lonely. So call me every week or so?”

“Alright.”  A hint of curiosity sprouted in his mind as James realized they were having a call when their timelines were different. How was that even possible if time was passing faster on Earth?

“I—How’re we having this call?”

“Oh, the shop probably slowed down the way your mind processes time during this call,” Archaniel replied. “So if you have a call that lasts a minute with me, a hundred minutes would have passed once you cut the call. You won’t realize it, probably not even notice it, without a clock next to you.”

“T—then, if we had a call that lasted for ten minutes, a thousand minutes would pass on my side?!”

“Pretty much!” Archaniel replied chipperly.

“Isn’t that more than sixteen hours?”

“Yep!”

“Oh god.”

—

The throne room was indeed the grandest place of Elen. Ivor was used to its grandeur. The endlessly decorated chandeliers; banners made out of silk; throne made out of pure gemstones… What always caught him off guard was the ivory floors. They were spotless, shining, not a speck of dust or even a single hint of gray present.

The palace maids would not be able to do so even if they spent hours every single day cleaning it every night. Clearly, mana had been used. Royal mages used as a show of power to make the throne room ethereal and suited for the king himself.

And Ivor found it rather interesting, ever-so fascinating.

Being a mage himself, any application of mana, even just ones that were used to keep the floors clean, were something that piqued his interest. Thus, when Ivor bowed his head down, he could look at the castle’s ivory floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world—not act impatient in the slightest. 

His father had called to meet him as soon as he’d reached the castle. He didn’t even give him time to freshen up or change his clothes. Then again, perhaps the king wanted to see his current state; see the damage that had been inflicted upon his third son personally. Or perhaps see the damage his third son had allowed to be inflicted upon himself due to his weakness.

The king was a fickle being, and Ivor genuinely couldn’t tell whether the man would be enraged at him or his brothers.

“Do you have any suspicions about who the suspects could be, Ivor?” the king asked from high, and Ivor raised his head. The king was as regal as usual. His white beard was trimmed and maintained to perfection, and his white hair complemented it quite well. He had a slightly dusky skin tone with gray eyes that looked just like Ivor’s.

Elen’s great king lorded from upon the throne languidly, donning robes made with the finest silk and embedded with strips of the costliest diamonds. Ivor was reminded once more that he was facing the king, not his father.

“None, royal father,” Ivor stated, bowing his head down once more.

It would not be worth it to accuse or throw suspicion on his brothers. Not now, not ever. He would have to deal with them on his own. The time when he could do so would come soon—as soon as he began harvesting the lifespan the being had made a deal with him for.

“I see,” the king muttered, voice soft enough that Ivor couldn’t quite tell if it was meant to be heard by him or not. “Go freshen up,” the king concluded in a slightly louder tone.

Ivor ducked his head before standing up, ready to leave the throne room.

—

“Are you okay?” Violet asked, taking in his appearance with concern. Unlike his royal father, Violet was looking at him after he’d freshened up, changed clothes, and patched himself up, so she could not ascertain the situation quite accurately.

Ivor smiled at his childhood friend. “I’m alright. The assassins were not skilled enough to do any major harm to me.”

“This is why I told you to take some royal knights with you! Hell, I should have accompanied you—” 

Ivor patted her on the shoulder, stopping her before she could launch on a full scaled tirade. “You had to take the knight trials. You could hardly accompany me. Either way, it’s not like you’ll leave me alone once you become my personal knight. Protect me properly then.”

She rolled her eyes at his words.

Before she could say anything more, however, he asked her, “Can you please close the doors?” Then he turned to the maid present in the room. She’d brought in a tray of snacks for them both, by the request of Violet, no doubt. “Leave the room.” He ordered, and the maid nodded. “Take the snacks with you.”

Violet looked at him with wide eyes. He could understand the thoughts passing through her mind immediately…

My snacks! She was probably protesting.

He simply stared at her for a second, and that was enough for her to understand that he was going to talk about a serious matter. She nodded and walked to the door, waiting until the maid left before closing and then locking the doors. She then walked to the windows and closed them too for good measure.

“So,” she finally muttered after a few seconds, “what’s serious enough for you to brave the rumors of being alone with an unmarried maiden?”

“I made a deal with a being,” Ivor replied.

“A deal with a being…?” Violet questioned, one eyebrow raised. “What do you mean?”

Taking in a deep breath, Ivor launched into recollecting all the events that had happened. About the shop, the being, and the deal he’d made. By the time he reached the end of his retelling, she stared at him incredulously, seemingly both afraid for him but also incredulous.

“Are you sure,” she mumbled, pausing for a second, “that you didn’t just, you know, hallucinate it?”

“I’m not.” Ivor sighed. “However, I’m not inclined to believe I did.”

Silence took over them as Violet sat down on the bed next to him, pondering about the situation silently. Finally, she asked, “There is a way to confirm it. I can pledge some of my lifespan to you… If what you’re saying is true, something must happen, right?”

“No,” Ivor refused her straightforwardly. “We are not risking your lifespan—” He paused, gasping.

Golden numbers appeared on top of Violet’s head. Ivor felt his eyes widen as he read them.

Sixty-eight.

Unlike him, it seemed Violet was destined for a long life, a fact that made Ivor quite happy.

“What’re you gasping at?” Violet asked, confused at his sudden reaction.

Ivor pointed to her head, and she looked up before looking back at him. “There’s nothing there…?” Violet stated, looking at him with concern.

Cupping his mouth, Ivor processed what that meant rather swiftly. He was the only one who could see the numbers. And it seemed to be activated by the word lifespan?

Immediately, he changed his mind in regards to her words. If she had sixty-eight years left, pledging one year as an experiment wouldn’t be so bad, would it? It was only one year… Besides, he could… probably do something later to change her fate or to help expand her lifespan even further.

“Alright.” Ivor nodded. “Go on. Pledge one year of your lifespan to me.”

Violet tilted her head, visibly confused, but nodded nonetheless. “So… what do I do? Do I just say, ‘I give one year of my lifespan to Ivor?’”

Nothing happened, even after she said so. Ivor blinked, but then pondered about why it hadn’t worked. Perhaps since he hadn’t directly asked for that lifespan from her? Or perhaps because Violet didn’t fully comprehend what that meant?

“According to what I can see,” Ivor explained. “You have sixty-eight years left of your life. If your life continues according to its current fated trajectory, you will live for sixty-eight years more. If you hand me one year of your lifespan, you will only live for sixty-seven years more. Now, are you okay with giving me one year of your lifespan?”

Violet’s eyes widened, but she nodded nonetheless. “I’m willing.”

Both of them gasped as a golden thread appeared in between them, connecting Violet’s forehead to Ivor’s. It disappeared just as swiftly as it appeared and before they could even process what had just happened.