At last, the long-awaited peace had arrived in the kingdom. The monsters of the forest that had obstructed the land for centuries were gone, and the demon that had shrouded the capital had vanished. The freedom from fearing winter and worrying about death sent ripples of joy throughout the kingdom. Yet, it wasn’t a time for unbridled celebration. And for good reason.
The king and queen were dead. It was one of the many tragedies caused when the demon seized the castle. Along with them, Aster Solias—the Crown Prince long known by name—had also perished.
Nearly all of the royal family’s key members had died in that single catastrophe. Now, only two remained in line for succession: the second prince, whose whereabouts were uncertain, and the youngest, Prince Lyley. Curiosity and anxiety about the kingdom’s future swept across the realm like wildfire.
Naturally, the nobility was in an uproar. Some argued that Guides, who had long been the backbone of Solias, were no longer necessary. Others insisted that since the Tither still existed, a Guide to control them was essential. The clash of opinions surged like a roaring current, fueling discussions of new power.
But none of this concerned Seiyad. He had returned to the estate, summoned dozens of physicians to examine Ressas, and then warned them all: should a single word about Ressas leak from their lips, he would erase their families for three generations. It was out of character for Seiyad, but that was how unhinged he had become.
Ressas…
Seiyad still couldn’t bring himself to say the name aloud. Every doctor who had come pointed to the still heart and the silent pulse, proclaiming that Ressas was no longer by Seiyad’s side. There was no breath. No movement. Though Stella and the other Tither had grown deeply concerned by Seiyad repeating this ordeal for a week, they had respected his wishes and refrained from making Ressas’s condition public.
The formerly lively Brosius estate had fallen silent. Companions came daily to check on Seiyad, but he hadn’t left his room since the day before yesterday. Even the meals left behind by worried attendants were left untouched. He hadn’t eaten in three days, yet he felt nothing. Drinking water felt meaningless, and he only took the occasional sip when it felt absolutely necessary. The rest of his time was spent sitting beside Ressas, who lay on the bed.
Lest Ressas feel stifled, Seiyad would open and close the window every hour for ventilation. Worried that Ressas might catch a cold after all he’d been through, he covered him with a warm goose-down quilt. He washed Ressas’s face and body himself each day and tried, somehow, to get him to drink water—only to see it dribble endlessly from the corners of his mouth.
Ressas, sleeping with a smiling face, seemed to be lost in some dream, unwilling to wake and leave Seiyad behind. He had once said that being with Seiyad made him the happiest, that he would never leave him lonely—and he had always been so attentive, so obedient. But now, at the most crucial moment, he was nowhere to be found.
So many emotions had passed through Seiyad. Upon returning to the estate, he cried for two straight days until he nearly fainted. Then came the bitter resentment toward Ressas for leaving him alone. Then he scolded him for being so stubborn and refusing to listen. And finally, overcome with guilt over everything he’d done, he wept and stayed faithfully by his side.
The mental fog felt like it would make him collapse at any moment, yet Seiyad had not slept for even a second. For a week, he neither ate nor rested. The servants within the estate were gripped by fear and concern. And as expected, his strange behavior soon reached Cecilia, who was in the North.
The door burst open on the tenth day. Cecilia strode in with Quilly following behind her. She was about to shout something the moment she saw her brother but stopped dead in her tracks at the sight before her—Seiyad sitting beside Ressas, reading a book to him.
No one was supposed to enter. Seiyad turned his head, expecting someone else, but recognized his sister. Despite the bizarre scene—Ressas’s bed surrounded entirely by the last of the autumn flowers—Seiyad showed no reaction, as if unaware anything was amiss. His expression blank, he greeted his sister.
“You’re here, Cecil.”
A flicker of joy sparked at seeing her, but it didn’t reach his face. It felt like he had been dragged back to the past, when Aster had left him hollow.
…No, that wasn’t quite it. It wasn’t that other emotions were buried—it was that his sorrow was so overwhelming, so suffocating, that nothing else could be felt. His soul was drenched in grief, numbing everything else.
“…Brother.”
Cecilia, pale as snow, clutched her mouth and walked slowly toward him. Her eyes had been brimming with all the things she wanted to say, but they quickly faltered. She whispered in disbelief.
“…It’s like His Highness is still alive.”
“He is alive, Cecil.”
Seiyad calmly corrected his sister for her insolent words. But Cecilia furrowed her brow and stormed over to the bed, inspecting Ressas closely. As much as he loved his sister, Seiyad hated anyone else touching Ressas. He clenched his teeth and silently watched. Then Cecilia spoke.
“When I first heard the news, I never imagined he’d look like this. If he were really dead, his body should’ve begun to decay… there’s no way he could still look this—”
“Cecil!”
For the first time in his life, Seiyad cut her off. His booming voice, so unlike the gentle brother she knew, startled Cecilia. Tears welled in her dark eyes as she bit her lip.
“His Highness is only asleep. So please, don’t say things like that.”
“Brother!”
This time it was Cecilia who screamed. Wailing like she couldn’t bear another second of their tragic state, she rushed over and grabbed Seiyad’s arm.
“He’s dead. I know it’s horrifying and cruel, I know it hurts like hell, and it makes me want to break something—but it’s the truth! How can someone who isn’t breathing or moving still be alive…?”
Cecilia collapsed against him, falling to the floor with a loud wail.
“I didn’t want to accept it either. I believed—because His Highness is such a strong Guide—he’d never die. I saw it with my own eyes, how much you love him, and I saw how madly he loved you too. I kept wishing every day for the both of you to have nothing but happiness ahead…!”
Watching his sister cry like a child, as if they had returned to their younger days, Seiyad felt his own eyes brim with moisture. He thought he had shed enough tears to be sick of himself—that they would have dried up by now. Yet they were still there.
His throat clung together, dry and cracked, and his insides churned. The searing grief threatened to push him over the edge, but he endured it with a strange sense of duty—that at the very least, he must hold onto the last of his sanity. Through his own body, Seiyad now understood how grief could drive a person mad. He tried with all his might to preserve even a sliver of rationality.
“But how long are you going to stay like this? When the time comes, you have to let go. That’s what His Highness would’ve wanted…”
Cecilia lay face down, trembling as she wept, looking even more heartbroken than Seiyad himself. The sheer depth of her sorrow forced Seiyad to hold back the urge to collapse and die on the spot. Instead, he gently pulled her upright. As he bent to draw her into his arms, she clung to him with a sob. Her hands wrapped tightly around his back, and Seiyad, dazed, gazed at Ressas.
Ressas was sleeping with such a beautifully serene smile—so vividly alive—that Seiyad simply couldn’t believe he was gone. Just like Cecilia had said, he didn’t look dead.
He was just… too beautiful.
That enchanting beauty—jet-black hair against snow-white skin, like apple blossoms in the dark—shone like a vision. His long lashes, even more delicate than most women’s, rested peacefully. The elegant bridge of his nose, the softly tinted rose lips—none of it looked lifeless. And those slender, neatly folded hands… Their grace and softness were almost deceptive, for they were large enough to cover Seiyad’s own. It had always been one of Ressas’s unexpected charms.
But more than his appearance, what was truly beautiful about Ressas was his light. Like a sun that burned endlessly without fading, Ressas had cherished Seiyad without ever growing tired. Compared to the love he’d once received from his mother, Ressas’s love was overwhelming—so deep and absolute that in hindsight, it was terrifying. Seiyad had once thought the boy merely looked up to him, admired him… But now, it was clear. Ressas had loved him with everything he had.
That light had rescued him from solitude. Life, circumstances, even relationships could change in an instant—but through it all, Ressas had remained constant.
Even when the whole world hated Seiyad, Ressas had loved him. Even when everyone else left, Ressas stayed.
Seiyad hadn’t loved him simply because he was blind with affection. It was Ressas’s pure heart, his selfless devotion, and the way he never asked for anything but worked only to bring Seiyad joy—that’s what had made him want to be a better man.
Ressas was so beautiful, so endlessly lovable. When it was all over, there were so many things Seiyad had wanted to do for him. Feed him, cradle him in his arms, give him everything he desired. Love him so fiercely that Ressas would never again think himself pitiful or insignificant.
‘I didn’t even get to tell you I love you yet…’
He wanted to whisper it every day. Wanted to confess the wild, overwhelming feelings that mere affection could never express. He had planned to shower Ressas with compliments until he was sick of hearing them, to hold him so gently that Ressas could finally ask for what he wanted without fear.
All of that… had turned to dust.
So how could he possibly let him go? If he buried him—if he truly sent him away…
“Then… I’ll never see him again.”
Seiyad murmured as he tightened his arms around his sister. Cecilia, red-eyed from crying, looked up at him. Her dark eyes collapsed with sorrow.
“I’ll never see Ressas again. You know just as well as I do, Cecil, how bright his smile is when he looks at me. How he’d run to me with that face—so full of joy it was maddening. That sweet, deep voice, like the still waters of a midnight lake—that’ll disappear too. If I let go, I’ll lose the last traces of his smile…”
Seiyad knew too well what it meant for something to vanish. After losing his mother and then his father, he had tried to remember them through fragments. But no matter how hard he tried, much of it faded. The warm scent when his mother hugged him, the firm arms of his father when he lifted him, their voices, their laughter, even the sound of their footsteps—gone.
Because he knew that pain more intimately than anyone else, because he had lived alone with such loss, Seiyad couldn’t bear the thought of losing Ressas the same way. No—he couldn’t endure it. His world was collapsing once again.
“Let’s paint a portrait, Brother.”
Just then, as Seiyad’s body wavered, Cecilia spoke. Her voice was firm with resolution as she took his hand.
“I don’t know why His Highness still looks so whole, but if that’s the case, let’s go back to the North. We’ll paint his portrait there, and we’ll bury him on a sunlit hill where you can see him every day. That way, you can remember him always.”
The sister who had come to stop his madness now offered him support instead. In that moment, Seiyad realized just how much he had been worrying those around him. He could no longer afford to hurt the people who still cared. He forced himself to get a grip. After glancing once more at Ressas, Seiyad gave a slow nod. Cecilia forced a smile—one brighter than ever before. A teardrop slid off her chin and hit the floor with a soft, wet sound.
His heart wished to do what his father had done once—walk to the castle window and leap out—but Seiyad decided against it. He knew how much it hurt to be the one left behind. He gathered up his grief.
With the decision to head north, everything moved quickly. Quilly, too stricken by the siblings’ grief to intervene, instead helped however he could to comfort Seiyad. A large carriage was prepared, and drivers and knights were hired so they could leave the next morning.
To Stella and Bridehit, both overwhelmed with duties in their own right, he left only letters. He promised to return once he had gathered himself. Before leaving, Seiyad carefully collected all the remnants of Ressas left in the estate.
Moonlight filtered softly through the window, casting a silver glow on Ressas’s cheek. Seiyad, sitting beside him, leaned forward and kissed his forehead.
Strangely enough, Ressas still had warmth. His skin was soft and warm, unmistakably alive—and it was no wonder Cecilia had been surprised. There was a reason Seiyad had clung to this delusion. When he had brought Ressas back, most of his wounds had already healed. At a glance, he looked perfectly fine.
‘If I kissed you like this, you’d be so happy you wouldn’t know what to do…’
When still, he was like an elegant deer, yet in moments like this, he was more like an oversized puppy. Seiyad let his lips curve just barely, mimicking a smile—but then erased the expression entirely.
To be honest, he hadn’t given up yet. Though he had agreed with Cecilia’s words, he’d already decided—once they returned to the North, he would begin searching for a way to bring Ressas back.
After all, Ressas had once killed himself to turn back time. If such miracles were possible, then surely there had to be a way to bring the dead back to life. Seiyad’s mind was fiercely gripped by that singular thought: he would dig through every god, every miracle, until he found a way to revive Ressas. The obsession was so intense it left him barely sane.
Just then, the sound of a door creaked open.
Creeaak—the long squeal of the hinges made Seiyad turn his head.
He’d assumed it was Cecilia. But instead, standing there was a child.
A boy with golden hair like Aster’s and violet eyes like Ressas’s—the youngest prince.
Seiyad had never been particularly fond of Lyley’s existence. The child was born of the late queen—the very woman who had inflicted pain on Ressas in a different way. But despite all that, the one who had hugged the boy tightly that day… was Ressas himself.
Maybe it was because of the way Ressas had tried to protect him that day, or maybe it was because the boy had Ressas’s violet eyes. Whatever the reason, Seiyad had taken the suddenly orphaned child in and brought him here. Leaving him in the palace would have only stirred up political controversy.
The child had fallen ill from the trauma of witnessing his mother’s death. Seiyad hadn’t heard a word of him regaining consciousness—so how had he come here?
“You look like a complete mess. If you’re grieving this much, my moon will be in pain.”
The boy spoke something strange. The casual tone was natural enough for royalty, but what caught Seiyad off guard was the phrase “my moon.” His brows furrowed.
“What are you saying, Prince Lyley?”
“I’m not Lyley,” the boy answered softly. “Solias is my name, yes, but I’m not the little one you’re referring to. He’s asleep right now, frightened. Once this is over, I’ll call him back—so care for him, and keep him close.”
It sounded like nonsense, yet there was something eerily familiar in what the child was saying—something that aligned too closely with the truths Seiyad already knew. He let his expression relax ever so slightly. He had, after all, just resolved to meet a god by any means necessary. He had nothing to lose. At this point, he was willing to do anything. Indulging a delusion like this was nothing.
“Can a god borrow a human’s body so freely? Even the Moon couldn’t enter Cecilia’s body without restraint.”
“That’s why I gave up nearly all of my power to do this,” the boy replied gently. “I’ll be following my moon to the grave of the gods soon, so I no longer need any of that.”
Now that—was a bit harder to swallow. Seiyad frowned, confused, but the boy merely beamed and held out his hand. His radiant appearance resembled Aster or the late king, yet his soft, pure smile was unmistakably like Ressas’s. That faint trace of life, that reflection of Ressas, gave Seiyad a strange sense of comfort.
And then, unexpectedly, Lyley spoke words that shattered everything.
“Come with me, up there. To where your foolish lover is waiting.”
Eid describes him like he’s Snow White lmfao