“If you want something, I can get you anything. But not a child. If you’re going to ask for a life that would be born only by gnawing away at your body, then ask for my heart instead. That, I’ll gladly rip out and give you.”
“……”
“If I could give birth, I’d do it a hundred times over… but it’s just not possible.”
Childbirth between same-sex partners was achieved by implanting a fetus into the body with the help of the Center’s technology. But no one could predict what kind of effect an artificial fetus would have on someone like Delroz, who wasn’t human. Delroz’s body didn’t even respond to Center medications, so there was no need to attempt it—the result was obvious. To date, the only drug that had any effect on him was the one made by Madam Ressot using Rohan’s blood.
“I’ve never wanted a child, and I don’t need one. Just thinking that I might lose you over something like that makes the blood in my body run cold.”
Delroz’s voice was resolute, but his expression betrayed his anguish. He cared for Banteon deeply—that much was painfully clear. He was the kind of lover who would worry about Banteon’s complexion even while coughing up blood. The reasoning was sound and made sense. But Banteon’s mind still couldn’t process it. No children? A noble? A direct heir renouncing his line…?
“I…”
“I’ll be going elsewhere today. You should go back and rest, too.”
With that, Delroz turned and walked silently down the corridor. Many people stood nearby, but a heavy stillness settled among them. Listening to the sound of Delroz’s fading footsteps, Banteon closed his eyes tightly, then opened them again. Standing before the dark glass wall was a gaunt man with a blank expression on his face.
***
He couldn’t clearly remember how he made it back to the estate. He vaguely recalled being guided to his room by the butler and sitting down at the table, but even the hour of his return was hazy. Surely, the sky had been dark at the time, yet now, the windows were gradually filling with light.
Banteon had sat there all night. He glanced down at his disheveled self. His pristine white suit was still perfectly worn, his hair swept neatly back—but his face had turned an ashen gray.
Sounds of movement filtered in from beyond the door. At this hour, the attendants would usually be up by now, ventilating the rooms and beginning their daily tasks.
“…Today… he’s alone, so…”
“Later…”
He could barely make out the attendants’ hushed conversation outside. Normally, it was Delroz who woke Banteon and prepared his morning tea. But since they had slept in separate rooms last night, the attendants were debating whether they should step in and assist with Banteon’s morning routine.
Hearing the nervous commotion, Banteon stood up. The chair scraped against the floor as he moved. As soon as he shifted, his stiff joints creaked painfully. Perhaps noticing the noise, someone finally knocked gently on the door.
“Come in.”
“You’re already up… ah.”
The attendant faltered mid-greeting. Still dressed in last night’s formal wear, Banteon clearly hadn’t slept a wink, and the attendant was too stunned to hide their reaction. That lack of composure alone was enough for Banteon to consider reassigning—or dismissing—them.
Feeling stifled, he stepped out into the garden. But once outside, he had no idea where to go. With no destination in mind, he simply wandered along the path. At some point, the sound of trickling water reached his ears, and he instinctively followed it until a fountain sparkling under the morning sun came into view.
A fine spray from the fountain landed on his face, slowly reviving his dulled senses. Looking around, he realized he’d wandered quite a distance from the main building. How far had he walked? The sun that had broken through the dawn now beat down with growing intensity.
Only then did he become aware of the time, and his exhausted body began to weigh heavily on him. He sat on a marble bench by the fountain. His gaze dropped, and strength drained from his legs. He needed to head back to his room once he regained some energy. He’d wandered pretty far, and he knew he should start moving soon. But his head slowly tilted forward.
It was inevitable. He’d spent the entire night awake and was now standing under the blazing sun, utterly depleted.
‘What do I do now?’
If only there were an attendant nearby, he might have asked for help. But in moments like this, not even a shadow of another person was in sight. It had always been Delroz who rescued him when he needed it the most. But with how firmly Delroz had turned away this time… he wouldn’t come looking for Banteon today.
Just a little. Just a short rest, then I’ll move. That was the promise he made to himself as he closed his heavy eyelids.
***
A familiar scent stung his nose. It was that herbal incense he disliked—he’d told them to use as little as possible. Supposedly good for fatigue and dizziness. But when burned this much, it would cling to the bedding and curtains, and they’d all have to be replaced.
He tried to open his mouth to order them to snuff it out. He pushed his lips apart with effort, but no sound came out. What the hell was going on? He slowly began to wiggle his fingers.
“Hyung? Hyungnim, you’re awake?”
“Baiheron…”
His voice came out dry and cracked, scratching his throat. As he coughed, Baiheron handed him a glass of water from the bedside. Rather than swallowing it right away, Banteon let the liquid sit in his mouth, letting the moisture seep in. The sting began to fade bit by bit. He was getting used to the pain by now.
“Why did you do that? You could’ve died.”
“…Sorry.”
Of course he’d collapse, sitting outside like that in his condition. All he could think was how utterly stupid he’d been. It wasn’t like him. The more he thought about it, the more pathetic and foolish he felt. He wiped at his flushed face—his skin stung from the heat.
“You were in direct sunlight, of all places. That made it even more dangerous. If a patrolling gardener hadn’t found you, it could’ve been much worse.”
The area had probably been cool enough in the early morning but turned into a furnace once the sun rose. He sighed, understanding now why his skin felt the way it did. But Baiheron still looked far from appeased.
“What the hell happened? Judging by Delroz’s condition, you two fought, didn’t you?”
“……”
“Tone down the lovers’ quarrels, will you? At this rate, every argument’s gonna end with a damn funeral.”
“I’m not dying over something like this.”
Baiheron shot Banteon a glare that all but screamed: If you weren’t my brother, I’d have you by the collar right now.
“I’m not talking about you, hyung. I mean Delroz. He was holding you with a face drained of all color—I seriously thought he was carrying a corpse.”
“……”
Right. With all the commotion, of course Delroz would have known what happened back at the estate.
“Where is he now?”
“Outside. He was just here, but when he saw you starting to move, he left. I get that what happened yesterday was a shock, but was it worth a fight like that?”
“You know what happened yesterday?”
“Ah… shit.”
Baiheron flinched like he’d been caught red-handed and quickly averted his eyes. His pupils darted around nervously, making Banteon’s brow furrow.
“After you got back to the estate yesterday, Delroz came to find me right away. We talked a bit, but it wasn’t anything serious—just a casual… consultation?”
“Do you think there’s any chance Delroz might change his mind?”
“Absolutely not.”
Baiheron shook his head firmly. From the very beginning, Delroz had believed childbirth would be harmful to Banteon. He wasn’t even willing to listen to Banteon’s arguments.
“I can’t make sense of it, no matter how hard I try.”
“For you, that’s probably true.”
Baiheron answered with a resigned shrug, scratching his head. His voice made it clear he wasn’t surprised.
“Honestly? I don’t think it matters.”
“What?”
“Continuing the bloodline… is that really that important? Maintaining the family line and all?”
Banteon stared at Baiheron in disbelief. For someone who was also raised as a noble—educated all his life about the paramount importance of upholding the family name—to say something like that?
Watching Banteon’s wide-eyed reaction, Baiheron leaned back deeply in his chair. He pressed his lips together, as if steeling himself, and then spoke again with conviction.
“Hyung. This might sound out of the blue, but I feel like it’s something that needs to be said. What do you think of the former head of the house—our father?”
“That’s sudden.”
“We’re the only siblings we’ve got, and we’ve never talked about this.”
Their parents had died when they were still young. Baiheron had been a child, his memories faint and patchy at best. Even as Banteon tried to recall something, all that came to mind was their chronically ill mother… and the back of their father as he quietly watched over her. Not exactly fond memories.
Personally, Banteon didn’t hold warm feelings for him. But publicly, their father’s reputation hadn’t been bad. During his time as family head, their wealth and social standing had been well-maintained. Leading a renowned noble house wasn’t an easy feat.
“He was responsible. He cared deeply for Mother…”
“Do you really believe that?”
For the first time, a mocking sneer touched Baiheron’s face.
“He had two children with her, even knowing how sick she was.”
That was considered the duty of any noble. For Banteon, it was still harder to understand refusing to have children just out of fear of dying. How could a noble abandon their obligation to continue the bloodline? Still, his father had other options. Just like Delroz said yesterday—there were ways for Espers to carry the child themselves.
Even for S-Rank Espers, though not as rare as SS-Ranks, the risk was just as high. The doses of medication required were several times what a Guide would endure, and outcomes were rarely favorable. Their father had simply chosen the lesser evil.
“He probably didn’t expect Mother to suffer so much after childbirth. Her stats looked fine before delivery—it was a difficult birth that caused everything to spiral.”
“Then he shouldn’t have had a second kid.”
Said the second-born child.
“He shouldn’t have had me. It should’ve ended with you.”
“Baiheron…”
“Hyung, you know what? Whenever I think about the former head of the house, I feel pathetic. And furious. He was so damn stupid it makes me sick. I can’t even bring myself to call him ‘Father.’”
As an Esper, you’re painfully aware of how fragile your Guide is. You feel it every day, down to your bones. Knowing that—knowing it—and still choosing to have two kids?
Producing more offspring was logical, given the uncertain odds of any one child manifesting as an Esper. For noble families, maximizing the number of potential Esper heirs was expected. In fact, the fact that there were only two of them—Banteon and Baiheron—was below average.
