Soft footsteps echoed faintly behind Seiyad in the quiet hallway. The measured, steady rhythm made it clear that the person was keeping pace without widening the distance between them.
Wandering aimlessly toward where the presence of others felt faintest, Seiyad eventually arrived at a garden. Typically, gardens near the ballroom served as places for secret trysts, but its stillness suggested it was an area not easily accessible. Other than Aster’s palace and Ressas’ southern wing, Seiyad knew little about the royal residence’s layout. He only ever visited a few predictable places, so even in this sprawling palace, the areas he was familiar with were limited.
“You seem to have a knack for tracking my footsteps, Your Grace.”
As Seiyad paused, gazing at the orderly garden trees, Ressas spoke right on cue. Turning around at the cryptic remark, he found the man standing with the moon of the night at his back, silently watching him. Ressas had become so familiar in that short time—it felt like every encounter was marked by those unwavering eyes.
“What are you talking about?”
“I just wondered how you knew this was my new residence and happened to come this way.”
At that, Seiyad recalled that the gift from Ressas had come from the Central Palace. With that, the events of the day jumbled in his mind, leaving him briefly disoriented.
“Then why were you there in the first place?”
“Well…”
Ressas approached slowly. Seiyad instinctively stepped back, intending to keep his distance as always, but was blocked by a tall garden hedge. The hedge, taller than he was, enclosed the garden like a wall of green.
“I was waiting for you, Your Grace. I haven’t seen you in half a year. The moment I realized I’d finally become someone you needed, I regretted how long we’d been apart.”
Perhaps it was the tension lingering from their earlier conversation that made everything feel so burdensome. Instead of refuting every word from Ressas, Seiyad chose to ask. To understand why he was doing this.
“What exactly do you want from me, Your Highness?”
He didn’t trust him. On the surface, Ressas seemed to want to return to what they once had. He had clung to Seiyad while denying the Queen, claiming to hate his own mother. When Seiyad brought up his connection to Zion Shildras, Ressas had responded by declaring he would destroy the Forest.
But what Seiyad couldn’t comprehend was what Ressas hoped to gain by rekindling their bond now. Their relationship had once been precious—etched deeply into Seiyad’s heart—but it was something from years ago.
In the time that had passed since they’d treated each other like family, Seiyad had behaved terribly toward him. He dismissed him constantly and insulted him in line with Aster’s wishes. Even now, waking again in this time by some unbelievable force, Seiyad had already wounded Ressas deeply.
Given how coldly and cruelly he’d treated him, it would be more reasonable for their relationship to be worse than what he had with Nova or Stella. It made sense that Zion Shildras was wary and suspicious.
“I remember being your companion in childhood, Your Highness. But as you said, I severed that bond long ago. I’ve acted disgracefully while serving the Crown Prince. Even just half a year ago, didn’t you look at me with suspicion, treating everything I did with disdain?”
Lately, Seiyad had found himself speaking more honestly. But this was the first time he’d ever said so much at once. Listening quietly, Ressas responded as if he’d heard nothing out of the ordinary, whispering without a moment of hesitation.
“Because I love you, Your Grace.”
The calm tone and composed expression almost made it feel like a light joke.
“Every time I saw you, I felt hopeful, only to be disappointed. I hated seeing a version of you that wasn’t the person I remembered. Every action I took began with your kind words. But the one who’d spoken those words no longer lived by them.”
“The version of me you remember is who I am, Your Highness. People change.”
“And yet, you’ve become that person again.”
“No… I only…”
The words caught on the tip of his tongue—I just don’t want to be someone who hurts others anymore. Ressas, as if sensing that very thought, spoke with unexpected gentleness. His face didn’t quite smile, yet the warmth was unmistakable.
“Now that I think about it, you’ve always been the person I knew. I just didn’t understand. I never realized how much pain you endured because of the people around me.”
And then, what came next shattered the carefully built wall Seiyad had forced himself to maintain.
“I’m sorry.”
Even though Seiyad had been the only one to hurt him, the apology came from Ressas. Seiyad furrowed his thick brows, lips tightly sealed. He held back the trembling breath that threatened to escape his clenched mouth.
Just one word.
That single word cracked the hard knot that had silently grown inside him. A knot so unyielding it had seemed impossible to break, finally showed a fracture. Above Ressas’ head shone the dazzling moon, bright enough to sting the eyes. The ivory light, so close it seemed to brush the garden itself, was just like that night they’d first met.
“It doesn’t matter why you’ve come back to me. I need you, and we’re bound to keep getting tangled up…”
Ressas stepped closer with quiet grace and held out his hand.
“Shall we make peace now?”
His tender gaze caressed Seiyad, as though asking him to take the hand offered. No pressure—just patience.
No one understood better than Seiyad how hard it was to reach out again with a hand that had once been cast away. He’d lost so many connections because he couldn’t do that. In the end, he died alone because he’d never learned to forgive like the Ressas standing before him.
He had been wronged, and he would never forget it—but he couldn’t go on hating everyone. That path had proven too selfish, too wretched.
‘Is taking this hand really the right choice?’
The past and present had already begun to shift beyond control, and he no longer knew how to move forward. Yet just as he’d come to feel—truly feel—that Aster had never cherished him, he could also sense with certainty that the Ressas standing before him did care for him.
Truthfully, he had always known. Though now, he couldn’t be sure of anything about the person named Ressas, one thing had never changed—until the very end, Ressas had never forgotten the bond they shared, never let go of it.
Seiyad simply hadn’t wanted to confront that fact. He didn’t want to face the version of himself who, despite knowing the truth, had chosen to hate the boy. It was humiliating—so unbearably shameful—to come face-to-face with his own disgraceful emotions.
“There’s no need for reconciliation between us. We never quarreled.”
Swallowing the cold, burdensome emotions surging within him, Seiyad barely managed to respond.
“The thorns were mine alone to erect. It’s only right that I be the one to pull them away. There’s no need for you to apologize, Your Highness.”
Just as Ressas had said, until the time came when he would face a Rampage, or until the Forest was destroyed, they were bound to keep crossing paths. No matter how much he tried to push Ressas away, if the other had resolved to act like this, then instead of digging in with pride and obstinance, Seiyad had to make the compromises that were necessary.
There was no need to deliberately turn Ressas into an enemy. Seiyad no longer had any reason to hate him.
“I’ll conduct myself with more courtesy than before. For now… I hope that will suffice.”
It wasn’t easy for feelings that had long since gone numb to return all at once. Barely managing to let even a sliver of feeling escape through the cracks of that hardened lump inside him—that was all Seiyad could offer for now. And yet, it seemed enough. A boyish smile, delicate and bright, bloomed over Ressas’ previously expressionless face.
“Then take my hand.”
His fingertips fluttered slightly, coaxing Seiyad. What once came effortlessly under the pretense of Purification now felt embarrassingly intimate with no such excuse. But when Seiyad reminded himself to view Ressas again as a younger brother in need of care, the sensation that had been clawing at his chest eased, and he felt a quiet comfort settle within him.
Without a word, Seiyad took his hand.
The pale, soft hand had grown—slightly bigger and firmer than it had been last winter. Only now did it truly hit him that something was changing.
Whether it was the right choice or not, holding in his grasp a connection he thought would never be restored didn’t feel bad at all.
A tangled part of his life had finally begun to unravel. And with that, the tension that had unknowingly stiffened his body since the banquet began began to slowly unwind. Strangely enough, as though sensing the shift in Seiyad’s feelings through the touch of their joined hands, it was Ressas—the one who had asked for it—who now seemed to flinch and freeze.
