The navy banner bearing the white wolf flapped violently in the harsh wind for a while before the Crown Prince’s procession finally came into view. Leading the way were royal knights carrying a red flag adorned with a sun, followed closely by the knights of the Brosius family, who had been dispatched in advance to protect the procession. Once he identified the banners trailing behind, Seiyad was certain—the situation unfolding before him was exactly as he remembered. The House of Shildras, the guardian family of the South, would not be attending this year’s Ritual of Invocation.
The Shildras family, related to the queen, was the only faction that supported Prince Ressas, who lacked any other backing. But even that support was far from steadfast. They prioritized the current queen’s second son, leaving Ressas to be grudgingly protected out of obligation. However, Zion Shildras—the heir apparent—had always stayed by Ressas’ side. The reason for his absence this time was succession.
The ailing head of the family, whose declining health had been apparent for years, had finally passed before the winter season arrived. Because succession in Tither was a matter of grave importance to the kingdom, House Shildras was granted a rare exemption from attending this year’s Ritual of Invocation.
‘Then something truly identical to my memory may yet occur.’
Until now, he had half-convinced himself that today might just be the past, but hadn’t been able to fully believe it. Now, he was certain. Steeled with renewed resolve, he stepped out through the gates to greet the Crown Prince, who had arrived at last.
As the royal carriage—gilded with gold—came to a halt, Seiyad also dismounted. His retainers followed suit, dismounting their horses and preparing to receive the Crown Prince. A knight brought over a step and opened the carriage door, revealing a familiar face.
“We pay our respects to His Highness, Crown Prince Aster, the Light of the Kingdom. Glory to Solias.”
Following Seiyad’s deep bow, his retainers also bowed. The customs of Solias were notably lenient toward the people of Tither—Tither’s current head was only expected to show the bare minimum of deference to the royal family. Though nominally a relationship between ruler and subject, the reality was one of mutual necessity. Hence, the rules had been shaped accordingly.
“Have you been well, my star?”
Descending from the carriage with the help of a knight, Crown Prince Aster approached with a smile. His golden hair shimmered in the sharp wind like shattered sunlight, dazzling and radiant. His blue eyes, as clear as the sky, gleamed with warmth as he looked at Seiyad.
“Come closer and let me see your face. I’ve missed you greatly.”
At his command to forgo formalities, Seiyad raised his head and approached. Aster, watching him stop before him, promptly removed his white leather gloves. Then, with his bare hand, he gently grasped Seiyad’s chin. That sharp jawline was now enveloped in a tender touch.
“Your face looks worn.”
His elegant fingertips lightly pressed Seiyad’s cheek. Turning his chin slightly with gentle pressure, Aster whispered as he took a closer look.
“Your cheeks are cold. Have you been waiting long?”
Even before his words fully left his mouth, warmth spread from Aster’s hand. His touch—always so kind and soft—melted the frozen skin. Just like that day, when no one came to his mother’s funeral, and Aster was the only one who comforted him.
“…No, I haven’t.”
Even with such a short and dry response, Aster smiled. He cupped Seiyad’s face in both palms, removing his other glove as well. A pure, calming energy flowed into Seiyad through Aster’s touch. The warmth seemed to untangle all the knots inside him, bringing swift ease to Tither’s body, which had been enduring winter without a Guide.
Seiyad fell silent at the sensation of purification his very cells remembered. Aster had always been this kind, this compassionate. And yet, when Seiyad lost control, Aster had not been there. The one who always stayed by his side to calm him had vanished on the day he was sentenced to death. He hadn’t appeared throughout the entire day of Seiyad’s rampage and, in the end, gave up on him.
‘…It seems I waited for him more than I thought.’
A sudden wave of emotion rippled through what had been a detached heart. As Crown Prince, Aster’s decision had been rational and logical. Had Seiyad been in his position, he likely would have done the same. Only a Guide could stop a berserk Tither, but in doing so, the Guide was guaranteed to be injured. It was too great a risk for someone destined to become the sun of the kingdom.
So there was no resentment. To claim he hadn’t felt betrayed would be a lie, but Aster had done his duty as a Guide. Expecting anything beyond that was greed—delusion. There was no reason to hate him.
His attempt to mend ties with Prince Ressas wasn’t because he sought to oppose the Crown Prince—it was because it was the only way to avoid disaster for everyone.
“It’s cold outside. Please, allow me to escort you in.”
Despite his blunt tone, Aster beamed like sunlight. He released Seiyad’s cheeks and instead took his hand. Without his glove, he warmed Seiyad’s frozen fingers directly.
“Yes, let’s do that. I want to hear what you have to say.”
Aster accepted cheerfully and gestured for Seiyad to accompany him. Seiyad’s body, which had moved to follow him by sheer habit, faltered. As the lord of the Axid territory, it was his duty to receive important guests. But in the past, as Aster’s follower, Seiyad would do anything the prince desired. That often meant leaving the reception of guests entirely to his vassals—just like now.
Perhaps sensing his hesitation, Aster looked back. Seiyad met those innocent, smiling blue eyes. Looking into them always gave him the feeling that he had no choice but to obey.
‘…But today’s Seiyad had a duty.’
To prevent the upcoming calamity, he needed the cooperation of the other Tithers present. They already disliked him—if he stirred up more resentment now, there’d be no way to earn their help.
“I’ll be right behind you shortly. Would Your Highness consider heading inside first to warm yourself?”
Aster looked at him steadily, smile still in place. Tilting his head ever so slightly, as if in thought, he let out a quiet laugh.
“That’s unlike you.”
It sounded like a passing comment, but the weight it carried was clear. Seiyad voiced the line he’d prepared.
“People say I’m rude because I’ve never been taught properly.”
Apparently not expecting that, Aster raised his eyebrows.
“Who would dare say such a thing?”
The once-gentle blue eyes hardened, turning from a clear sky into a frozen lake. Seiyad continued in an even tone.
“It’s a rumor circulating among the people, so I can’t trace its origin. But I feared my behavior might bring shame upon Your Highness… so I thought I’d at least attempt a show of propriety today.”
It wasn’t a fabrication—he’d heard such things often. Aster stared at him intently before his expression slowly relaxed back into a smile.
“My star never fails to please me.”
The strength in Aster’s hands gradually faded. His fingers, which had lingered uncertainly around Seiyad’s wrist as if debating whether to let go, finally withdrew completely.
“Then I won’t stop you. But it would be wise not to keep me waiting too long. As you know, I’m not a patient man.”
With that, Aster offered a smile that curled his eyes, then turned his back. The cape made from the pelt of a wolf—gifted to him by Seiyad—fluttered grandly before settling down. Seiyad watched his retreating figure disappear, then opened and closed the hand that had been held.
Moistening his dry lips, he turned around. Only once the Crown Prince had been fully received did the halted procession resume its motion. The next to arrive was the Tither of the West, Duke Bridehit. His daughter, Nova, had yet to come of age and thus was not eligible to participate in the Ritual of Invocation. Descending from the carriage under a knight’s guard, the Duke squinted in surprise upon seeing Seiyad personally waiting outside. In response, Seiyad offered a brief greeting.
“Thank you for making the long journey.”
All Tithers held the same status. Though the northern territory was so vast and barren that the Brosius family had been granted the title of Grand Duke, no hierarchy existed among the Tithers themselves. However, depending on age, they would casually adjust the level of formality between one another. Since Duke Bridehit was the eldest, everyone naturally spoke to him with respect.
“Thank you for the welcome.”
The Duke, having observed Seiyad with a look that seemed to ask why he had come out to greet them, added with a smile:
“Nova would have been pleased. Let’s hope something like this happens again next year.”
Although no Ritual would be held after this year, Seiyad simply nodded to end the conversation. Unmoved, the Duke shrugged as if the moment had lost its charm. Seiyad assigned an attendant to the Duke’s party and moved on to receive the Tither of the East.
Duchess Vetria stepped down from her carriage and scoffed when she saw Seiyad waiting.
“How rare.”
With just that, the Duchess brushed past him. Since her daughter, Stella, was absent, she was likely attending the funeral held by the House of Shildras. Tithers who had not been officially granted their titles were not required to appear unless in emergencies, so this did not break any rules. Moreover, Stella had avoided Seiyad; her absence was for the best. This too aligned with his memory.
After greeting the two Tithers, Seiyad welcomed five more houses. They were all branch families of the Dukes, with only partial Tither blood. Though they lacked the complete supernatural abilities of a true Tither, they each possessed some distinguishing traits beyond those of ordinary people.
Finally, at the very end of the procession, the last guest appeared. Unlike those who had come before, this guest’s carriage was guarded by only a few knights, and the carriage itself was old and worn. Abandoned, neglected—it barely seemed to exist, like someone forgotten by the world.
A young knight with brown hair, clearly just come of age, stared nervously at Seiyad. Judging by his demeanor, he hadn’t been knighted long ago and clearly didn’t know how to conduct himself. It was a common sight for those encountering a Tither for the first time.
“We pay our respects to Grand Duke Axid. We serve as Prince Ressas’ escort knights.”
At that moment, an elderly knight with streaks of white in his hair stepped forward and offered a respectful bow. The other knights hastily followed his lead. Among the group of youthful, inexperienced knights, he alone bore the weight of years. Looking upon his kind and gentle features, Seiyad slowly opened his lips.
“Sir Anka.”
At the sound of his name, the old knight widened his eyes in stunned disbelief. Seiyad scanned the old man’s shocked face without emotion. The Anka in his memory had been drenched in his own blood, along with the blood of already-dead knights. He looked nothing like this man, standing neat and unharmed. That was how pitiful and gruesome Anka’s death had been.
“You must have waited long. Bring your liege forth.”
At Seiyad’s command, the elderly knight quickly regained his senses. He rushed to the carriage and opened the old, creaky door. Watching the disorganized scene, without even a single servant to bring forth a footstool, made it hard to believe this was a royal’s carriage.
Yet the prince emerged as if it were nothing unusual. Bending at the waist, he stepped down and landed firmly on the ground with practiced balance. As he slowly straightened up, his eyes met Seiyad’s.
The winter wind tore through the air, stirring the prince’s black hair. The soft curls fell across his forehead and scattered again and again. His eyes, tinted like the violet sky before dawn, fixed unwaveringly on Seiyad. The gentle smile that had been resting in those eyes gradually faded—until they froze, sharp and cold.
