The moment he crossed the river, the sensation of returning to the reality he belonged to hit him with certainty. Stella’s grim expression waiting for him made that clear. Maybe it was the soaked boots, but his steps felt unusually heavy—despite the fact that this journey hardly qualified as tiring.
“Seiyad, have you been well?”
Stella greeted him warmly, deliberately softening her expression as he approached. Seiyad silently nodded and walked toward her. She looked him over with gentle eyes, then extended her arms and pulled him into an embrace.
“Mother is doing well, thanks to you. You’ll get to see her at the evening banquet.”
Stella had returned with him from the south. Having traveled together for several weeks, they had grown considerably closer. Though they could no longer interact as freely as they had in childhood, aside from Cecilia, she had become the person he was closest to.
Because of that, Seiyad accepted her embrace. He could feel the tension in her arms as she hugged him tightly, a greeting laced with something more than joy. Her emotional waves were slightly off—restless—and so he didn’t push her away.
“Something’s happened, hasn’t it?”
“I’d like to say no, but… yes. It’s urgent—but not urgent enough to summon all of Tither. I came to meet you because we need to take care of it quickly. I’m relieved we didn’t miss each other.”
Seiyad recalled what had just happened. The appearance of Charlotte Saklani, who had no reason to be here, had already raised suspicions. Now, half-convinced, he asked:
“Is this related to the Marquess of Saklani?”
“How did you know?”
Stella looked at him with wide, startled eyes. She even released the embrace, grabbing hold of Seiyad’s hand in surprise.
“I saw Charlotte Saklani before I met you. It struck me as odd—why would the daughter of a Marquess be here, so far from their estate?”
Stella finally nodded in understanding, murmuring an “Ah,” and cast a glance across the Lebe River before explaining.
“Lady Charlotte came to convey the Marquess’s intentions in his stead.”
“Shouldn’t his eldest son, Cedric, the heir, be the one doing that?”
It was proper for the heir to represent the head of the family in diplomatic matters. Sending the second child instead was a clear sign of disrespect toward Vetria. As Seiyad’s expression turned cold, Stella’s gaze hardened in agreement.
“The heir remained to help guard the territory—that’s the official reasoning. Things aren’t going well on their side, so it’s a bit delicate. Still, it’s not as if we can just send Lady Charlotte back.”
“Then I suppose an explanation is in order.”
Stella glanced around at his words. A flicker of discomfort passed over her expression before she rose slightly on her toes and whispered into Seiyad’s ear.
“This place is too open. I’ll explain later, somewhere private.”
Her whisper tickled his ear—soft enough that one had to listen carefully to catch the words. The seriousness in her tone made him nod just as—
“Duke Vetria, what exactly are you doing right now?”
A cool, dispassionate voice drifted in on the breeze. Seiyad and Stella turned their heads toward the riverbank at once. It was Ressas, whom they’d been meaning to find anyway, now walking toward them. Perhaps he had wandered off to get a drink of water, but he was now holding a large bundle of lavender in his arms.
The chill that had sunk deep into his bones from the cold river water seemed to melt slightly at the sight. Seeing Ressas carrying the very flowers he had wanted to give him lightened Seiyad’s mood. The blossoms were beautiful in themselves, but Ressas outshone even their brilliance.
Yet, in sharp contrast to Seiyad’s brief uplifted spirit, Ressas wore no smile. The affectionate expression that had always accompanied his glances was gone. He walked quickly toward them, his steps brisk. Once he reached them, Ressas’s eyes remained fixed on Stella’s hand, still gripping Seiyad’s.
His downward gaze was icy. There was no trace of the kind-hearted man he usually was. It was startling to realize Ressas had such a side to him.
“Your Highness, you’ve arrived. I greet the noble light of Solias.”
At his approach, Stella quickly let go of Seiyad’s hand and straightened her posture. She bowed in the formal manner of greeting royalty, and only then did Ressas’s expression ease a little.
“Have you been well?”
“Yes. Thanks to Your Highness’s blessings, many good things have come my way.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to come out to meet me—was there something urgent?”
Though his expression had softened, it hadn’t brightened. A faint crease marred his smooth white forehead. Seiyad, sensing something off, studied him carefully.
“Just happened to be lucky, I suppose. There’s a place Your Highness and the Duke of Vetria should take a look at on the way—I came to guide you. May I take you there?”
“Please do.”
Stella offered a brief nod before returning to her knights. Seeing her move, Seiyad and Ressas’s knights began fetching the horses. In a flash, they were ready to depart. Seiyad called out Luna’s name in a firm, concise tone. The horse, grazing in the distance, galloped toward him at once.
Before mounting, Seiyad looked over at Ressas again. He seemed to be holding back something intensely. A barely audible sigh slipped from his lips, like someone stifled and burdened. After a moment’s hesitation, Seiyad spoke up.
“There’s no need to wander alone during the day, Your Highness. It’s dangerous.”
“I was only nearby. I saw some lovely flowers I wanted to give to Eid.”
With that, Ressas held out the bundle of lavender to him. A sweet fragrance surged forward, wrapping gently around him. He had thought Ressas looked beautiful holding the flowers, but never imagined they were meant for him. The gesture caught him off guard. Still, he didn’t want to refuse something Ressas was offering.
He hadn’t touched a flower since Cecilia, as a child, had insisted on tucking one into his hair. As he accepted the lavender bouquet with an awkward air, Ressas’s face finally lit up.
“It’s beautiful.”
His words came in a joyful whisper, and Seiyad found himself agreeing.
“Perhaps it’s because they’re in season—these lavenders are lovely.”
“No, I meant you, Eid. Nothing in this world is as beautiful as you.”
The embarrassingly tender words left him speechless for a moment. Now that he thought about it, Ressas had a habit of calling things beautiful even when they weren’t. A man who normally knew how to choose the right words always seemed to attach strange and overly poetic expressions when it came to him. As Ressas gazed at Seiyad, now holding the flowers, as if trying to memorize the sight, he whispered, almost reluctantly:
“Shall we go, then? We’ve made the Duke of Vetria wait long enough.”
“…Yes.”
His chest tingled. A pleasant chill spread across his skin. He wanted to say something—anything—to Ressas, but no beautiful words came to mind. He simply didn’t have the talent for poetic speech like Ressas did.
Only after Ressas had turned to lead his knights and follow Stella did Seiyad realize he had forgotten to thank him. It had been so long since he’d had anything to be thankful for that the words had slipped from his mind entirely. It nagged at him. He silently resolved to express his gratitude somehow, next time they were alone.
Stella continued walking along the river. Her destination was a mountain on the border between Vetria’s territory and the Marquess’s domain. Towering trees gradually came into view, and soon they reached a densely wooded forest. The lush greenery of summer blanketed the land, and the forest appeared tranquil at first glance. Near the river’s upper reaches, she instructed everyone to dismount. Then she asked both Seiyad and Ressas to bring only a few trusted knights with them.
Seiyad kept Kirill and two others he valued close. Ressas brought only the one who appeared to be his captain. Stella, too, assembled a small retinue similar to Seiyad’s. With the group narrowed down, they crossed the upper river.
The current was strong and the incline steep near the falls, making this stretch of river impossible for ordinary people to traverse. Wading through the turbulent water, they finally reached the edge of the forest. Though they had only crossed a river, the atmosphere on the other side of the waterfall was entirely different. The area that had been bright just moments ago was now shrouded in gray mist.
“If you keep going south from here, you’ll reach the Marquess of Saklani’s lands. And recently, I heard a plague has broken out there. Every hunter who entered this forest has died.”
A plague?
In all of Seiyad’s memories, the East had never suffered a plague. There was no way he wouldn’t remember something so significant in a region so close. The South and West were far enough to escape his notice, but the East bordered the North and had always warranted close observation.
His past and future were already diverging in many ways, but a plague was not something that should have changed so drastically. There hadn’t been any calamity that could have triggered it.
As he wore a skeptical expression, Stella met his eyes. Her look suggested she had anticipated his reaction. Then, she revealed what was hidden behind the official story.
“But that’s only the official stance. The truth is, the hunters died after encountering Nir’a. In broad daylight—during summer.”
The revelation was not so shocking to them anymore. It was a bizarre anomaly, yes, but after what they had experienced in the South, they already knew that Nir’a could now appear even outside of winter and night.
However, that truth had yet to reach the public. The King, after visiting the South, had ordered the information to be suppressed—fearing widespread panic. Although the event had been grave, Nir’a had not emerged beyond the forest, and thus, rumors hadn’t reached the commoners. Witnesses had been sworn to silence.
Still, the royal command hadn’t been issued purely out of concern for the public. It was also to accommodate the Marquess of Saklani, whose influence through his control over the kingdom’s fire resources and supply chains made him politically untouchable. Defying him would have placed even the King in a difficult position.
When one considered those circumstances, it became clear why the Marquess had framed the deaths as an outbreak. But such a cover-up was, ultimately, deceitful.
