Even If Everyone Hates You 141

6) Earthly Paradise

He had never broken a promise.

As far as Seiyad could remember, Ressas had never once gone back on a single promise between them. Even the light, offhand remarks he tossed out without a second thought—Ressas would treat them as solemn vows destined to be fulfilled. That child had waited for Seiyad so many times. Maybe it was because he had grown up with no one else to share warmth with that his favorite words were always, “See you tomorrow.”

Seiyad also generally kept to his own words, but while staying in the capital, variables often interfered. During that time, he lived in the city residence with his family, frequently shadowing his mother, which meant he occasionally forgot the habitual phrases he tossed around without much thought.

That day, it rained.

The apple blossoms that had bloomed so radiantly throughout the capital were swept away by the rain, spiraling down in soft whirlwinds. Because the rainfall was heavy, Seiyad was told to remain in the estate with Cecilia. While his mother went out to handle royal affairs, Seiyad stayed by his father and Cecilia’s side. The soft tapping of raindrops against the windowpane had been grating on his nerves since morning.

He kept his sister, who had begged him to play, occupied by drawing with her. She was eleven now, old enough to amuse herself, but unlike other children her age like Tither, she disliked being powerless and preferred spending time with Seiyad.

After lunch with his father and once his sister had gone for her nap, Seiyad realized what had been gnawing at him all morning. When he entered his room and looked over his desk, his eyes met with a small wooden carving lying there. It was a clumsy apple-shaped figure that Ressas had scratched together with a sharp stick. It was barely round enough to maintain its shape and might have looked like nothing at a glance, but ever since the boy had whispered shyly with reddened cheeks, Seiyad had called it an apple.

‘Haven’t seen him in two days.’

Yesterday, he had trailed after his mother and couldn’t be with Ressas. Today, he had been strictly ordered to stay home. Though Seiyad normally obeyed his mother without question, watching the rain fall nonstop since morning made him uneasy about Ressas being alone.

So, Seiyad committed a rare act of rebellion. He had asked for his father’s permission, so it was halfway sanctioned. Leaving the estate, he mounted his horse and headed toward the palace. The southern palace, far removed from the main residence, was barely guarded—only Sir Anka and his men, who had protected the prince since childhood, stood watch. Jumping off his horse, Seiyad left it to the knights and ran toward Ressas’s quarters. He didn’t care about the splashes of water soaking his legs. And then, under the apple tree, he saw him.

That child, smaller and frailer than his peers, had slowly begun to bloom after meeting Seiyad. His face, once delicate, had grown as beautiful as an apple blossom. Watching him periodically glance around, clearly waiting for someone, made Seiyad’s heart sink. No… surely not, he thought—but the more he looked, the more certain he became: Ressas had been waiting for him.

As Seiyad slowly approached, rainwater pooled beneath him and splashed with each step. Hearing the sound, Ressas turned and, upon seeing Seiyad, his eyes widened. That blank white face lit up with joy. Maybe it was because of the rain, but his smile spread even more quickly than usual, glowing and sparkling as it washed over him.

“Ressas, why are you out here?”

Not wanting to get the already-soaked boy any wetter, Seiyad stepped beneath the tree. Apple blossoms, knocked loose by the rain, clung to the boy’s cheeks and his wet black hair. Some had landed on the translucent white shirt clinging to his skin. The sight of that beautiful child, pitiful yet pure, made Seiyad’s heart ache. The boy’s violet eyes were filled with rapture the moment he saw him.

“Eid, you came to see me?”

“I did. But why weren’t you inside? You’ll catch a cold in this rain.”

That fragile, slender body looked even more delicate than usual. Seiyad reached out gently and brushed the boy’s forehead. He must have waited for a long time—his skin was ice-cold to the touch. Spring rain might seem mild at first glance, but it always hid a bitter chill.

And yet, despite clearly being cold, Ressas showed no sign of discomfort. His sparkling eyes were fixed on Seiyad with unrestrained delight. They crinkled with a smile he couldn’t hold back, and his lips curled adorably. The way he radiated happiness with his entire being made him unbearably lovely—and heartbreakingly sincere.

“I wasn’t sure if ‘see you tomorrow’ meant today or yesterday. I thought… maybe you’d come and I’d be too foolish to notice… so I came out for just a bit.”

That childlike voice babbled on softly. Even though he said just a bit, it was clear he had waited a long while. In that moment, Seiyad realized: Ressas had probably waited the same way yesterday too—from the moment he woke until nightfall.

To Seiyad, it had been a meaningless parting phrase. But to Ressas, it was a promise he devoted his entire day to. That’s the kind of person he was—so earnest that Seiyad never again said anything to him he didn’t mean.

Because he was just as blind in his faith, Seiyad had believed everything Ressas ever said. He remembered every single word they exchanged, every vow they made to one another. He promised. He promised not to make him sad. Promised not to leave him lonely. Promised—after confessing his feelings—while gazing into Seiyad’s eyes.

‘You said you wouldn’t leave me alone.’

‘You said you wouldn’t make me sad, Ressas, you said…’

Seiyad stared blankly down at the lifeless body cradled in his arms. Just moments ago, the boy had been smiling at him under the tree. Just moments ago, those beautiful violet eyes were shining with stars.

Now, he didn’t move at all.

“Ressas.”

A voice scraped out from beneath his lips—so deeply hoarse it sounded torn and raw. It was painful just to move his voice, his throat so constricted it hurt. Seiyad gripped Ressas’s collapsed body tightly.

“You were hurting so much… Just a moment, Ressas…”

No, no. Don’t think like that. Don’t even entertain the thought. Ressas had made a promise—something this terrible couldn’t happen over mere speculation. Rebuking himself, Seiyad quickly gathered the boy into his arms. His body, limp and heavy as it followed Seiyad’s lead, felt unbearably weighty. He’d known Ressas had grown, had noticed it long ago, but he hadn’t realized he’d become this heavy. Ah, he grew up well. That’s why this feels so burdensome now.

With that thought, Seiyad adjusted his hold on his beloved. When he finally saw Ressas’s face again, it was still smiling—just like earlier. A dimple pressed into one cheek, where a half-healed wound lingered. Though his eyes were closed now, no longer gleaming like moments before, their corners were gently upturned. His lips, rosy like cherry blossoms, curled sweetly—as if he had died content. The image was beautiful, so beautiful it felt like it wouldn’t hurt to press him into his very eyes. But the moment he saw the blood staining the boy’s upper body, a savage sob burst from his chest.

Gasping, Seiyad collapsed over him. Drawing Ressas close to his lap, he clutched at him, breath hitching violently. His grief sounded like the final cries of a dying beast, anguished groans carried on shaky breaths. Barely holding himself back from crumbling under the pressure splitting his skull, Seiyad shook his head.

‘Stay sharp. Get it together.’

‘He’s not dead.’

That’s what he told himself as he forced his trembling body upright. The veins along his arms bulged as he held Ressas tight. His normally calm, cool gray eyes were bloodshot now, glowing with strain.

He’s just badly hurt. After all, he’d used his power for far too long and taken wounds this severe—of course he’d lost consciousness. Foolishly, Seiyad had left him to fight alone in the palace. What an idiot he’d been. He needed to take him back immediately, take him home to his place of rest, care for him, apologize.

No—first, a physician. He had to find out if any of the court physicians had survived and do everything he could to heal Ressas. Then…

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness washed over him. He had never experienced such disorientation in his life. For a fleeting moment, he felt like he might pass out. But even so, Seiyad forced himself to his feet, planting them firmly. The only relief, the one saving grace, was that Ressas’s body was still warm in his arms.

‘I have to get out of here.’ This wretched place had never given his beautiful beloved a single good memory. They had to leave it behind.

In a daze, Seiyad scanned the hallway. Nox’s head, which had blocked the staircase earlier, was gone. The torso, wrapped in black thorn-like bones, was also slowly dissolving into nothing. People crowded the surrounding area, staring—first at Seiyad, then at the ruined corridor wall, faces all painted with confusion.

“Seiyad!”

A familiar voice rang out from the stairs. Turning slowly, not even aware of what expression he was wearing, Seiyad looked back. Stella, climbing with the Tither squad and beaming with joy, raised a hand toward him—then blinked, froze.

So did everyone else behind her. Nova, skipping ahead to greet him, opened her mouth to call out—only to fall silent. Duke Bridehit frowned and covered his mouth. Zion, bringing up the rear, trudged along with a worn expression before stepping back, stunned.

An awful silence fell over the corridor.

Seiyad didn’t even realize the tears streaming down his face. With eyes like a winter storm, void of life, he began walking toward them. Though Ressas didn’t feel heavy at all in his arms, his limbs kept slackening, forcing Seiyad to hold him even more carefully, protectively.

The closer Seiyad came, the more Stella’s eyes contorted. She covered her mouth, her expression twisted in unbearable sorrow. He hated it. Yes, Ressas being hurt was tragic—but this reaction was too much.

With every step, his comrades’ faces darkened with grief. Seeing their tear-filled eyes stirred something strange and furious in him. Reaching them, Seiyad murmured in a foggy gray tone:

“We need a physician. Find out if any survived. I’ll take His Highness back to the estate.”

Duke Bridehit was the first to respond. With the kind smile of a gentle father, he stepped forward.

“His Highness must be very exhausted, Your Grace. I’ll summon every physician available. Let’s return.”

For a moment, light flickered through Seiyad’s otherwise blank stare. He turned slowly to look at the duke. Seeing his face, the man hesitated, then bit his lip. An agonized torment passed through the wrinkles beside his eyes before he spoke again.

“If it’s all right… may I check His Highness’s wounds briefly? It would be good to at least stop the bleeding before you take him back.”

As he reached out, Seiyad instinctively pulled Ressas tighter and stepped back. The sensation of limp limbs swaying in his hold made his skin crawl. The duke, unfazed, reassured him:

“Just for a moment.”

He hated the idea of anyone else touching his beloved’s body. But he couldn’t ignore what mattered most. Pressing his lips shut, Seiyad allowed it. While he held still, the duke gently reached out and took Ressas’s wrist. Then, he moved his hand to the boy’s neck, checking the artery for a pulse.

In that moment, Seiyad’s gaze drifted to Ressas’s chest—still and silent, no longer rising with breath.

The duke’s face paled. His lips trembled. Seiyad turned his head away, rejecting what he already understood. A desperate, choking denial escaped him like a scream:

“Stop!”

The word tore through the silence, so raw it made everyone flinch.

“His Highness is alive. From here on, I’ll take care of everything.”

Those gray eyes, crazed with grief, gleamed like they would turn anyone who contradicted him into an enemy. Stella, who had been watching him the whole time, finally broke into sobs. Nova sniffled beside her. All of them were overreacting—as if a mere injury meant the guide was dead. Seiyad couldn’t stand it.

He began to walk past them, descending the stairs.

Unaware of the tears streaming endlessly down his cheeks, pooling at his chin, soaking the nape of his neck—he felt none of it. Like a man already beyond pain.

Author: Levia