Ressas knew just how deeply Seiyad loved and cherished him—but the happiness a lover could give and the happiness one received from family were fundamentally different. Seiyad had known the warmth of parental love, but Ressas had never once experienced it in his life. Though his parents had been physically near, not once had he heard a word of love from them, nor had he ever been held in a warm embrace.
If he could finally feel the presence of the parents he had lacked all his life—if this peace was something his soul had unknowingly longed for—then taking Ressas away from it felt like a cruel thing to do. Wasn’t it stealing the one thing Seiyad could never give him?
No matter how much he needed Ressas, he couldn’t take him away by making him sacrifice something so precious. Ressas’s happiness mattered just as much as his own.
The urge to rush out and take him away faltered. His body, on the verge of stepping forward, quietly retreated into the shadows of the castle. Seiyad, cloaking himself in silence, simply watched Ressas’s smiling face. That bright, radiant smile—like someone who had finally found where he belonged—made his chest ache and yet, at the same time, filled him with joy.
‘I love seeing you smile like that.’
Seiyad’s joy was rooted in Ressas’s happiness. He had never seen him smile so freely, without a single trace of worry, and it captivated him. Nothing in the world—not even all its beauty combined—could rival Ressas. It was impossible to look away.
In that moment, Ressas walked into the castle with Lyley riding on his back. The King and Queen followed leisurely behind. Seiyad, watching them from the shadows, remained hidden. Though he told himself he needed to step back for Ressas’s sake, the heart was not so obedient.
He was overflowing with longing. So, Seiyad decided he would at least stay and watch Ressas for as long as he was permitted. He hadn’t seen him alive and well for so long—he wanted to etch every single moment into his memory.
Maybe because he had yearned so desperately to see him again, time passed quickly. Ressas was a truly good older brother and son. During the meal, he delicately deboned his little brother’s food for him. Though Queen Leana lightly scolded Lyley for being spoiled, she smiled as if she found the sight endearing. After dinner, Ressas played chess with Cyfrid and drank with him. Not once did the smile leave Ressas’s face.
Despite growing up without parental love, he had become such a kind and gentle young man. It was painfully clear just how devoted he would have been if he had received true love. Watching the future Ressas might have had weighed heavier and heavier on Seiyad’s heart. Every glimpse of Ressas’s joy pressed down on his own deep, possessive desire.
Night came at last. Candles were lit throughout the castle, and Ressas, holding a candlestick, made his way to Lyley’s room. His little brother, who adored him, begged for a story. Ressas smiled and sat beside him. Hiding in the shadows of the room, Seiyad drank in the sight—until he noticed the book in Ressas’s hands and his breath caught. A strangled groan nearly escaped. His face twisted in pain.
The small booklet in Ressas’s hand was far too familiar.
“Once upon a time, a little star who used to play freely in the vast night sky fell to earth by accident. Separated from the moon who loved him, the little star quickly lost its way. The moon, who had once been so close, was now far up in the sky. No matter how hard the star listened, he couldn’t hear the moon’s voice. Frightened, the little star longed to return to the moon and began heading north, desperate to find his way back. But the people on earth wouldn’t leave the little star alone. They thought his color—reflecting the deep night sky—was strange and pointed their fingers at him.”
His chest caved in. His breath trembled.
The story he had never managed to read aloud for Ressas… Ressas had brought it all the way here—and was reading it now to his younger brother.
“But Hyung, we’re not little stars, right? We’re suns, since we’re Solias.”
Lyley’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he asked. And he was right—when Seiyad first wrote the fairy tale, it had been during a time when Ressas was a powerless, sorrowful child. Back then, even Seiyad hadn’t known that Ressas was a radiant sun.
“No, Lyley.”
But Ressas shook his head with a smile.
“A sun is still a star. It only looks big because it’s close to Solias. There are countless stars like the sun in the universe. So in the grand scale of things, we’re still just little stars.”
“What about the moon?”
“The moon is a star that exists solely to protect the sun. You won’t find it anywhere else. That’s why we must treasure the moon dearly.”
As he said this, something flickered across Ressas’s face. A fleeting emotion. Before Seiyad could identify it, Ressas returned to his usual expression.
“Promise me?”
“Yes, Hyung!”
Lyley reached out his tiny fingers, linking his pinky with Ressas’s. Promise made, Ressas opened the book again and continued.
“Because people fear what they don’t understand, they ignored and shunned the little star. Unlike the warm embrace of the moon, the earth was a harsh and terrifying place, where the star was called a monster. But the little star was brave. Though he trembled, he wandered the world, still seeking the moon. But on earth, there was no Milky Way for him to drink from, nor any fruit to satisfy his hunger. Starving each day, the little star soon reached his limit…”
Even Seiyad had forgotten that part. He hadn’t remembered writing that the star eventually starved to death. It felt… unnecessary now. Strange, in hindsight. Ressas’s lips stopped moving.
The once-bright face dimmed for a moment before returning to normal. Then, without another word, Ressas closed the book. Lyley had fallen asleep at some point. Ressas looked down quietly at his sleeping brother.
His face, now devoid of any trace of a smile, stared at Lyley for a long time. Finally, only the corners of his lips lifted.
The smile didn’t reach his eyes. Only his lips moved.
It was chilling.
And at the very moment Ressas smiled like that, the entire scenery around him shifted.
The warm and cozy castle vanished, and in an instant, Ressas stood amidst the ruins of the royal palace. It resembled the scene in the capital when Nox was killed, yet something about it was subtly different. Seiyad flinched. Ressas stood and began walking down the corridor.
‘This is strange.’
He had heard this place was supposed to be a blissful paradise, yet Ressas’s back looked unbearably lonely and precarious. An unease stirred inside him, and Seiyad hurried after him. But unlike before, when he’d been able to follow easily, Ressas now maintained an unclosing distance. No matter how fast Seiyad tried to catch up, the gap wouldn’t close.
Then he noticed it—there were bloodied bodies lying in every direction Ressas walked.
Looking down without thinking, Seiyad found Queen Leana’s corpse embracing Lyley in death.
A chill ran down his spine. This wasn’t something that existed in his memory, and yet the scene was so vividly re-created it sent shivers through him. What was this?
Ressas stopped in front of each body that appeared. Seiyad followed his path as if hypnotized, unable to even blink. After passing Cyfrid’s corpse, crushed beneath a stone slab, Ressas finally entered the main hall.
The moment Seiyad saw what was inside, a suffocating sense of déjà vu struck him.
Every Tither that he knew was dead inside.
The Duchess of Shildras and his mother lay collapsed as if they had died fighting one another. Bridehit and his daughter, and Selfini Vetria with her mother, all bore the scars of a fierce battle as they lay with closed eyes. But the most brutal of all was Zion’s corpse, pierced through by dozens of swords, his body fixed in place in a grotesque display that made it hard to look.
Ressas stopped in front of Zion’s corpse for a long while, then walked toward a collapsed wall revealing the barren gray sky. There was no one there—no one at all—but Ressas knelt before the gaping wall.
Guilt and sorrow drenched his expression. The mature, composed mask he always wore cracked, and his face shifted to that of a child. Tears welled up in his eyes.
Seiyad moved before he could think.
He forgot all about hiding, all about watching from the shadows. He couldn’t leave his beloved to cry alone.
“Ressas!”
Even in this so-called paradise that was supposed to show him what he wanted most, Ressas looked unbearably sad. The loneliness reached Seiyad like a tidal wave. He ran to him in a flash, grabbing Ressas’s shoulders. Ressas turned, tears dripping from his chin. A flicker of emotion—first surprise, then joy—crossed his eyes, only to be swallowed instantly by deep despair.
With pain twisting his brow, Ressas snapped, thorns in his voice.
“I told them not to show me Eid’s face!”
It wasn’t like him. He shook off Seiyad’s hands and, with a voice strained with agony, cried out with eyes shut tight.
“Eid isn’t dead. He’s not! So why would they bring him here? He’s alive. He should be happy and alive—so why do they keep showing him to me…?!”
Seiyad still didn’t understand exactly what was going on, but it was clear: Ressas thought he was a hallucination.
The idea that he might not be part of the vision Ressas desired had terrified him earlier—but now Seiyad understood. Even his appearance had been folded into this illusion.
That realization erased all previous hesitation in an instant. Only one thing remained: certainty.
Ressas needed him.
The sharp gray of Seiyad’s eyes turned piercing as his entire presence hardened. He grabbed Ressas’s shoulders again and bent low, cupping his cheek as he leaned in.
Then, with only inches between them, he asked,
“Is it me you’re longing to see?”
Ressas shook his head violently, clenching Seiyad’s wrist. The strength in his grip was desperate—but not enough to drive Seiyad away. In the end, Ressas opened his eyes.
The faint purple in them had blurred and spread into a total mess.
“Please… stop…”
His trembling voice ached in Seiyad’s ears—but still, he pressed forward. He had to hear it from Ressas himself. Had to make it undeniable, lock it down with certainty—so he could take him away.
“Is it me you’re longing to see, Ressas?”
“Please… just stop…”
“Just answer me. Are you suffering because you miss me? Is it because you want to see me again?”
“Yes! Fine! I am!”
Ressas exploded like someone who had finally given up. His violet eyes, bloodshot and raw, held no trace of paradise—only a sorrow and loneliness too vast to describe.
That lonely face—Seiyad could bear it no longer.
He leaned in and pressed his lips to Ressas’s.
The sobs that had been leaking out were swallowed in that instant. Ressas’s lips froze. His eyes widened. His damp lashes curled upward and stilled.
