I Start with a Bad Hand!

‘It’s strange. It seems like my luck is too good.’

Winning the hunt, claiming the prize money without spending a penny, healing my leg, and soon learning how to leave this world—it all seemed too good to be true. This was the first time since I entered this story that things were going so well.

Yet, I felt uneasy. Was it because of the national trauma left by Kim Cheomji and his seolleongtang? For some reason, the good fortune made me anxious, as if it was blinding me to some impending misfortune.

I should just accept good fortune when it comes.

‘Kim Cheomji has ruined quite a few people.’

So, today I decided to just enjoy myself. After a good sleep, I felt ready to truly enjoy the festival.

‘The festival… should be enjoyed from inside the room.’

I lay in the room prepared by the priest, hearing the bustling noises of people outside and the festival music from afar. The breeze was cool, and then there was a knock at the door.

Icarus’s request was unexpected.

“A festival? Ah, no thanks…”

I’m just going to lie here. I can see the festival well from here. I said this and laid back down.

‘I’ve struggled enough for now. I need some rest.’

Feeling like I had overcome a major hurdle, all the tension that had built up from the time I enrolled until now seemed to dissolve. Perhaps because of that, my body felt as if it had been pummeled by a hundred transparent rabbits.

Despite my listless reply, Icarus took no notice and sat down at the end of the bed.

“I will set out on another expedition at dawn tomorrow.”

“…I see.”

“I haven’t really had a chance to participate in the festival due to various circumstances. It was quite difficult to make time this year. There might not be another opportunity.”

He avoided looking at me, staring out the window with a forlorn expression.

‘Ah, what a coward. Trying to elicit my sympathy with that kind of talk…’

But it was too effective a weapon to ignore. He was playing dirty with his own life… Especially since I owed him a lot this time, I couldn’t help but fall for his tone and attitude despite knowing better.

“I can’t just let you go like that. Maybe you should disguise your identity, Your Highness.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

Icarus quickly responded. It would be troublesome if my identity was revealed as well.

“And your name, too.”

“…Even my name?”

“Yes. Something ordinary like Tom, Bob, Bill…”

“Why do all the names have to be like that?”

Icarus frowned immediately, showing clear disdain, which made me feel confident about my choice.

“Bob sounds good.”

“I don’t like it.”

“It has a solid sound, Bob.”

“No, I don’t like it.”

“For the last name, um… Bob… Bob… Dirara… Dirara sounds good.”

“And you. It would only be fair if you disguised your identity too.”

Bob Dirara said with a face full of dissatisfaction.

“I’ll just stick to Dietrich.”

“What? Why?”

He looked perplexed, and I stared back with narrowed eyes. Was he really asking out of ignorance?

“Your Highness, I don’t mean to say this myself, but… who’s going to notice me?”

Who would recognize someone just up from some rural estate? People likely wouldn’t even know I’m nobility unless I mentioned it first. So, the one who needed to use a disguise and an alias wasn’t me.

“My name could be Dietrich, Dmitry, or Deluxe Hamburger Set, and still, nobody would care.”

He retorted a bit gruffly, “Deluxe… what?” He questioned back, but I ignored him and laid back down.

“If you don’t like it, forget it. I’m fine just resting here.”

I pulled the blanket up to my chin and settled into a contented pose. Watching me, he grunted and ran his hand through his hair before finally accepting his new fate as Bob Dirara.

“What about the escort?”

“There’s no need to bother calling one since I’m busy preparing for the expedition tomorrow anyway.”

…So, he’s really busy too, huh? I gave him a skeptical look, and sensing my scrutiny, he turned his head away. That’s when I got out of bed, my body still weary. Having dyed his hair a plain brown with a magic potion, he gave me a cautionary reminder.

“Be careful with the honorifics when you’re out. Make sure no one realizes I’m the prince. Drop the formal speech…”

“Sure.”

“…You adapt quickly.”

“Of course. Speaking casually isn’t hard.”

Having had to constantly use formal speech due to my status since arriving in this world, a kind of modern-day frustration from the 21st century had been brewing inside me. Today seemed like a good day to let go of that frustration.

Despite my initial reluctance to join the festival, once I stepped out, it was better than expected. I had thought it would be just a simple affair with a few decorations, but the festival was much more elaborate than I had imagined.

The second prince, with his hood flipped up, was busily pretending not to be interested while actually looking around excitedly. The lively music played, people danced, and delicious smells wafted through the air. Just watching was enjoyable enough.

‘But…’

What do people usually do at such events? They say that those who have tasted meat eat it best, but having never really ‘played’ before, I was just enjoying the atmosphere, and Icarus was simply matching his steps to wherever I went.

Perhaps because my life had never been centered around fun, but always on the periphery, today we didn’t really participate in the festival, just hovered around the edges.

After following me around for a while, Icarus suddenly caught sight of something and grabbed the back of my clothes.

“Hmm?”

“Let’s go there.”

“Where?”

He pointed with his chin towards a spot obscured by the crowd in my line of sight.

“Alright, let’s go.”

It seemed like we might end up just watching people until the sun set if we continued like this, and with no better alternatives, I followed him to where he led.

We arrived at a place where people were dancing to lively music. There was no manual or specific steps; everyone was dancing freely to their own rhythm.

“…Here?”

“Yes.”

He must have liked dancing. Go and have fun. As I said this and started to back away into the crowd, he just stood there looking at me, then took a step to follow my retreat.

“Why? You said you wanted to come here.”

“Weren’t you going to dance?” I asked, to which he unexpectedly lowered his head, seeming a bit embarrassed, and whispered to me.

“I’ve never danced like this before.”

I wish you could lead. His tone was tinged with excitement as he cracked a sheepish smile, and a dimple formed charmingly along his grin. But…

‘I’ve never danced like this either!’

In my college days, I never went to any bars or festivals—not even once. No, I couldn’t. Between part-time jobs and studying, there was no time for festivals, let alone clubbing. The only official dance I ever participated in was a group dance during a high school trip.

Of course, unofficially, there were times I thrashed about in the spectrum of dance with friends at karaoke. So, I could probably manage freestyle dancing. It was like being on a tour bus… However, such dancing, suited for lights and thumping EDM tracks, would look utterly possessed outdoors, accompanied only by strings and a tambourine.

But his eyes shone so brightly as he watched the people dancing freely, and his expression was so unusually serene…

“Wow…”

Unable to admit that I couldn’t dance like that, I timidly shuffled my feet and clapped, starting to creak.

He mimicked me, awkwardly rolling his feet as well. Seeing this, a mischievous urge arose in me. I creaked a bit more vigorously, and he, not to be outdone, followed suit.

As our otherworldly dance continued, onlookers began to comment.

“Wow, what are those people doing?”

“It looks like they’re depicting a sorcerer and a puppet.”

“Wow, that dance… such movements…”

We creaked in unison. I wanted to be the sorcerer, but my movements were more puppet-like in their precision. The prince’s spasms lacked soul. After clicking my joints about ten times, I caught the eye of a musician and gave him a thumbs-up as a sign of respect.

However, it seemed my message was misinterpreted. He winked at me like a DJ accepting a challenge and suddenly started to play the melody more joyously.

‘No. What are you doing? Stop the music.’

As the melody became more festive and the rhythm faster, I could hardly keep up. Just as I was about to naturally exit the crowd in rhythm, Icarus blocked my retreat.

‘What now?’

I shrugged my shoulders and tried to pass by him, but he blocked my path again. Looking up, I saw him wearing a playful smile.

‘What is it?’

While we sparred rhythmically, seemingly endless, the street maestro sped up the performance even more.