5) Lunar Eclipse
Morning sunlight spread like a net, filtering gently through the window. Birds chirped outside the half-open window, their lively tunes blending with the summer insects in a noisy chorus that prompted Seiyad to set down the book he’d been reading. The thick tome, clearly aged and worn, bore an embroidered golden sun on its surface.
As he walked to the window to close it, Seiyad suddenly froze. Between the towering trees that still couldn’t be dwarfed by the tall windows of Axid Castle, he spotted several robins flitting through the branches. Unusually for the cold north, these gray-feathered birds overwintered here and, come spring, took on a silvery-white hue that made them stand out.
Watching them nuzzle beaks and cry out in short, affectionate chirps, a face came to mind— The boy who had once rescued an injured robin from a perilous winter forest.
‘Is he still alive?’
The memory of spotting a robin at the castle months ago surfaced. It had been barely clinging to life, and yet someone had nursed it back to health until it plumped up—surely, that caretaker would still be alive, Seiyad reasoned. But having not seen him in so long, he couldn’t be certain.
The last time he’d seen Ressas was four months ago. That last glimpse of his back in the chapel had been it. Objectively, it wasn’t even that long. Compared to the past, when they’d see each other only once a year, four months was nothing. And yet, the absence now felt as if it had spanned years.
Perhaps it was because they had spent every day together right up until their parting. After going up to the capital, Seiyad had come to see Ressas so frequently it had become second nature. Now, in his absence, Seiyad felt the void—intermittently, or perhaps every single day.
Those gentle, ever-smiling eyes that laughed at anything he did, that deep voice whispering “It’s okay,” that burning warmth that once melted him—all of it had become a memory that stirred his longing. Even the scent of fresh trees or the breeze filled with summer’s green reminded him of Ressas, and when they did, an ache would swell within Seiyad—a yearning to see the boy so easily pleased by even the smallest gestures of protection.
This insatiable longing, at times, turned into a painful weight pressing on his chest. There were nights when it felt like his insides were hollowed out, when the ache churned in his gut, and he wanted nothing more than to act on it, to find a way to resolve the emotion.
Once or twice, he’d even nearly turned his horse around to ride off to the capital on impulse. But a lord could not abandon his castle so freely.
The North, being the furthest from the capital, required lengthy travel; he couldn’t just set off on a whim. More importantly, his younger sister had only recently returned to the North, and he was responsible for her education. Duty kept him anchored.
After spending several months in this state, Seiyad could no longer deny that what he felt clearly went beyond simple fondness. In a life once plagued by nothing but biting winds, this feeling was like the spring breeze that melts the snow—warm and radiant. For a while, he tried to ignore it, to push it aside.
But emotions didn’t disappear just because they were avoided. Even when he turned his head away, they remained firmly rooted in his heart. In the end, unable to let them go or swallow them whole, Seiyad welcomed the arrival of summer.
He stood there for some time, watching the robins, until a knock at the door pulled him back to reality. Perhaps the sound startled them, as the birds fluttered up in a flurry of wings. Seiyad turned his head slightly toward the door, and guessing who it was, he opened his mouth.
“You can come in.”
At his calm permission, the door creaked open. Cecilia peeked her face through the wooden door with a bright smile. Her long silver hair was loosely braided, and over the past few months, she’d grown far more energetic and cheerful. Watching his sister return to the playful girl she used to be had become Seiyad’s only real joy of late.
“Oppa, let’s eat lunch together. Quilly packed us a basket. I want to go outside like the old days and eat out there.”
As if confident he would say yes, Cecilia was already dressed in light outing clothes. Her blue dress, with a modest neckline and practical design, was suited for movement. The lace on her cuffs and hem were the few decorative touches she enjoyed, though she generally preferred riding clothes or trousers. Today’s outfit was a bit more dressed-up than usual.
“Alright.”
He was due for an inspection of the estate anyway, so there was no reason to refuse. Still feeling oddly reluctant, he cast one last glance at the robins outside the window before walking over to Cecilia and offering his arm. She placed her hand on it naturally, letting him escort her as she began to chatter away.
“Quilly praised me today. Said I’m getting good at reading the ledgers. I think I’m getting used to it, too. I’ll never be as good at managing the estate as you are, Oppa, but still.”
Seiyad scoffed inwardly at her words. Cecilia didn’t know the truth—that he was more of a madman obsessed with killing Nir’a than a true lord. It was she, not he, who had loved the estate from a young age and was far better suited to govern it.
Since her return, she’d begun thinking about how to cultivate the North using the resources bestowed by the royal family. Meeting with merchants and mingling with farmers during estate inspections had also become her role.
The quietly frozen parts of Cecilia’s personality had thawed ever since she grew distant from Aster. Her innate warmth and attentiveness to people had returned, and with it, a natural charisma. Even the way she had led the Tithers in his absence had stemmed from that same character.
As they chatted, the two reached a hill near the castle. The wide, green hill offered a clear view of the forests that surrounded the North. It had always been Cecilia’s favorite place since she was a child.
In winters when snow piled up to their shins, young Cecilia used to beg him to roll her down the snowy slopes. Back then, Seiyad had often imagined how fun it would be to do the same with Ressas.
But they weren’t children anymore…
A bitter feeling crept up, and Seiyad swallowed a sigh. Since parting from Ressas, there had always been something stuck in his chest, heavy and suffocating.
“Welcome! How utterly adorable the two of you look together today! My heart, as humble Quilly, is just melting right now!”
Quilly greeted them warmly from the hilltop. A maid skillfully laid out the food and plates from the overflowing basket: freshly baked soft bread, pies filled with stewed berries, and a steamed horned fowl dish.
Seiyad had no appetite and merely glanced at the food with a blank expression before turning his gaze away. His eyes wandered aimlessly, eventually settling in the direction of the southern capital.
“Oh, please don’t make that face again, Your Grace! You’ll ruin your health if you keep skipping meals.”
“He’s right, Oppa. You need to eat something. Doesn’t it feel refreshing being in a different place like this?”
That must have been her goal.
Cecilia tugged at him to sit down and immediately began offering him food. The care in how delicately everything had been prepared spoke for itself, and Seiyad, with no real choice, decided he would at least pretend to eat. He did need the energy anyway—he had a lot of moving around to do.
Seated with a plate in front of him, Seiyad reached for the bread first instead of lifting any utensils. He tore off a piece with his pale fingers and swallowed it without feeling, prompting Cecilia and Quilly to begin eating as well, seemingly relieved. As they ate, Quilly began her report while attending to them.
“I gave the head chef special orders today. Summer’s when food tastes best in the North, after all. Ah, Your Grace—speaking of which, a messenger arrived just before we came here. A letter from the Duke of Vetria.”
“Stella unni? Is it urgent?”
It wasn’t just Seiyad who instinctively worried something bad had happened. Considering the serious events that had occurred before everyone returned to their own territories, such a reaction was inevitable. When Cecilia asked with concern, Quilly shook his head.
“It’s not an emergency, but the Duke has requested that Your Grace come east as soon as possible. It only takes three days to reach Vetria territory, so it wouldn’t be a bad idea to check in. Restoring trade with the East after such a long break would benefit the estate, wouldn’t it?”
“Yeah, Oppa. I’ll stay and hold things down here.”
Perhaps conscious of the years of silence following the fallout with Selfini Vetria, Quilly took the lead in persuasion. Ever since Selfini had been allowed to stay in the territory, relations had been improving, especially after the events in the South. It was time.
“You’ve really grown, Cecilia.”
Accepting the request, Seiyad also praised his sister. Cecilia smiled bashfully and clung to her brother’s arm, speaking sweetly.
“Tell Lady Selfini I’ll make her a flower crown next time we meet.”
Just a few weeks ago, Selfini Vetria had been granted a pardon and allowed to return to her lands. Officially, the reason given by the King was that she hadn’t caused any trouble under Seiyad’s surveillance for over half a year. But in truth, it was obvious the King was looking to mend relations with the Tithers.
In any case, it was a good outcome. It was now certain that her Rampage had been triggered by Aster, so as long as the Crown Prince remained at a distance, Selfini would be safe.
Ah. Former Crown Prince, he reminded himself.
The King had kept his promise to Seiyad—at least to some extent. Just one month ago, Selfini’s pardon had been part of that.
Ressas had been named Crown Prince.
In Solias, where the rule of primogeniture was rarely defied, it was an extraordinary decision and unsurprisingly sparked massive backlash. Aster’s faction, led by the Marquess of Saklani, launched what were essentially threats and firm opposition. But just in time, a rumor spread by Desertus began to circulate within the royal court.
“The blood of a Devil that mimics Solias to perfection runs in the royal family.”
With Tiaki cunningly blending Aster’s appearance into the gossip, Ressas’s supporters pushed the story aggressively. It was nothing more than a rumor—something that could easily be denied at any time—but Aster’s own eerie silence tilted the scales.
That was the problem. Aster’s behavior had become unsettlingly quiet.
On the surface, summer seemed peaceful. The weather was clear, and the Northern summer was always cool. The people no longer feared Seiyad like they once had, and the restored honor of House Brosius had invigorated the domain.
Those who had withdrawn in fear began stepping outside again, and Cecilia stood beside him. These were days of peace and warmth—fleeting moments that Seiyad had never dared to desire, now continuing on.
But nothing had truly been resolved.
The Devil was still out there—still by Aster’s side. If he remembered the rage that had once consumed Aster, it was likely he had already done something—or was planning something terrible. The fact that Seiyad had no clear idea what it was made him anxious.
And then there was the sword. The Holy Death that Ressas had said he must find was still missing. That, above all, was the reason why Ressas could both be and not be Crown Prince. The sword was essential for the ceremony to name a Crown Prince. Yet Aster, defying the King’s will, had refused to return it.
Desertus had also been tasked with finding it, and Seiyad himself had searched the forests of the North as thoroughly as he could. But the North’s forests were vast—on an entirely different scale from those in the South. He couldn’t search the deeper parts alone, and he had no idea where Aster might have hidden it. It was just as likely to be in the East or West.
“Oh, and there’s one more thing I forgot to mention.”
Quilly’s cheerful voice broke into Seiyad’s thoughts, still wrapped around the missing sword.
“His Highness Ressas—His Majesty is currently searching for someone to become his fiancée. The noble houses are in a complete frenzy over it.”
Seiyad didn’t register the words right away. Quilly’s light, almost playful tone made it sound like he was talking about a state festival. For a moment, it didn’t quite make sense—until the meaning sank in.
“…Fiancée?”
The word left his lips before he realized it, echoing through the air with a sudden chill.
