“That doesn’t seem like something Your Highness needs to concern yourself with.”
The excuse about attending the festival had been fabricated from the start, so Seiyad dodged the question. But contrary to his hopes, Ressas didn’t back down. The smile had completely vanished from his face as he spoke in a low tone.
“We need to understand the Duke’s purpose so we can guide you to the appropriate place.”
Just moments ago, he had seemed like he would head straight out, but now he stood still like a rooted tree, determined not to move until he got an answer.
It was a sudden change, like a thundercloud appearing out of a clear sky. A person’s mood was like an aura—while the cause behind it might be unknown, the shift itself was easily sensed. It was clear that something in what Seiyad had said had rubbed Ressas the wrong way.
He hadn’t seemed so difficult to handle when he was younger.
Now, Seiyad found himself baffled by this side of Ressas. Perhaps growing into a young man meant letting go of everything once held close. Every time they met, Ressas did something unpredictable. Yesterday’s unexpected event was a prime example. It had been a misguided comment—he couldn’t even bring himself to call it a confession.
…Hah.
Seiyad furrowed his brow slightly as he searched for words to fabricate. It had been so long since he’d prepared something to give to someone. He couldn’t even remember the last time. There was no one to give such a thing to. But upon thinking it through, one name came to mind: Kurthu. Though his relationship with Desertus was purely transactional, he did owe a personal debt to Kurthu. Whether the man liked it or not, it seemed better to at least make a gesture of gratitude.
“It’s a gift for a woman.”
Ressas’s lips tightened at that answer. The pink hue drained from them, leaving them pale.
“…Wouldn’t the palace be a better place to find a treasure for a lady?”
His voice, low and sunken, came only after a long pause. The more they spoke, the more visibly Ressas’s demeanor darkened, leaving Seiyad momentarily at a loss for a reply. He couldn’t understand what was upsetting him so deeply.
“I thought she might find something too extravagant overwhelming, so I’m looking for something more modest.”
Giving a treasure to Kurthu felt far too personal. It would be better to reward her with gold coins, perhaps.
Yes, better that than something needlessly sentimental.
Seiyad decided to retract his earlier statement. He now thought it would’ve been easier to just mention Jasper as a reason to go outside the palace instead of weaving all these elaborate lies to get Ressas out.
“I’ll be fine going to the festival alone, so you don’t need to worry about what just happened…”
“No, I’ll go with you. It seems you want to leave now, so I’ll get ready.”
Just as Seiyad was about to say he could forget the part about the gift, Ressas cut him off. His complexion had gone pale, and he looked at Seiyad with eyes filled with a quiet anguish before lowering his long lashes. The prince exhaled a faint sigh and turned his body.
“Please wait a moment. I’ll change into something more appropriate for going outside the palace.”
“…Very well.”
Despite acting like he would refuse, Ressas ended up complying without further protest, as if nothing had happened. As he turned back toward the palace, his back appeared broader and sturdier than Seiyad remembered—but also lonelier. Strange, considering how many people now stood by his side.
***
Perhaps the weather was mimicking Ressas’s mercurial mood. Though the morning had been bright and clear, by midday—when they left the palace—it had grown overcast. Still, the central district of the capital, where the festival was in full swing, remained bustling with people despite the gloomy sky.
Noble estates and various shops lined the streets, and the festival had brought out a vibrant array of stalls. Some were selling grilled meat from wild animals rarely seen in the capital, like elk. Others displayed every sort of specialty imaginable. Flower sellers, hat vendors, cloak merchants—along with plenty of others offering their signature dishes—filled the streets.
Seiyad and Ressas mingled among the crowd gathered to watch a group of clowns performing in the middle of the road. To reach the Brosius estate, they would eventually need to move away from the city center, but for now, since he’d used the festival as an excuse, they had to at least pretend to enjoy it.
Ressas hadn’t said a word since they left the palace. While the marketplace buzzed with noise and excitement, a heavy silence hung between them. His face was obscured by a modest cloak meant to keep them inconspicuous, so it was hard to tell what kind of expression he wore—but it was obvious his mood remained low.
In this state, there’s no way he’ll grant my request.
Seiyad glanced around, searching for some way to improve Ressas’s mood. But not knowing what had upset him in the first place made it difficult to find a solution. He retraced his memories, trying to recall what Ressas had liked.
Then it hit him—his memories stopped at a time when Ressas was still a child. Back then, climbing trees or playing hide-and-seek was enough to make him burst into laughter. But now, he was a fully grown young man. Even if Seiyad knew little about this older Ressas, he at least knew that children’s games wouldn’t amuse him anymore.
“Is there anything Your Highness would like to do?”
In the end, Seiyad offered a small compromise. He had been watching the smiling festivalgoers without much interest when he turned to ask. Finally, Ressas looked at him. Seiyad was slightly startled—he hadn’t looked at him even once until now. The prince’s violet eyes seemed unbearably sorrowful.
“This outing is to find a gift for the Duke. There’s no need to concern yourself with me.”
His tone was flat, despite the bitter glint in his eyes. That strange calmness irritated Seiyad more than if Ressas had just snapped at him.
“…You seem displeased to be here.”
Ressas’s pink lips curved ever so slightly, an odd contrast to his gloomy gaze. It was a strange, twisted smile.
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make the Duke uncomfortable…”
Ressas turned his gaze away. Looking ahead, his eyes paused on a stall at the end of the alley, and he murmured softly.
“Watching the one who holds my heart shop for a gift for another woman… it’s not exactly pleasant.”
Seiyad fell silent, momentarily speechless. The confession from the previous day, sudden and ambushing, replayed in his mind. He had thought Ressas might just let it go since nothing was said that morning—but clearly, that was wishful thinking.
“But what matters more is the Duke’s happiness. If even my insignificant advice can be of help, then that alone brings me joy.”
After tossing out such a disarming statement, Ressas continued calmly.
“There’s a stall selling crafts over there.”
With that, Ressas turned and began walking toward it. Despite baring his heart so plainly, he once again pretended as if nothing had happened. Seiyad, saying nothing, followed behind.
Engaging would be the wrong move.
Responding to a feeling that was clearly a misunderstanding would only deepen Ressas’s confusion. Ignoring it and letting it pass naturally was the better course—eventually, Ressas would come to understand the truth on his own.
Suppressing the uncomfortable air between them, Seiyad arrived at the stall alongside Ressas. On the wooden table lay finely carved jewelry boxes, hair ornaments, necklaces, and brooches. Though none were made with expensive gems, the craftsmanship was exceptional and the materials of high quality. As expected from the capital’s festival, the items here were far more exquisite than those in the northern festivals.
“I don’t know much about women, but anyone would be happy to receive something beautiful. Besides, since it’s from the Duke, whatever it is, she’ll surely be pleased.”
Ressas whispered while examining the display. Every word stirred something uncomfortably in Seiyad’s chest, so he avoided looking at him and responded with a perfunctory remark.
“Thank you for the advice.”
Feigning interest, he fixed his gaze on the items. Just as Ressas had said, the goods sold by the artisan were undeniably beautiful. None of them truly drew him in, but a simple accessory might suffice. As he vaguely pictured Kurthu’s dark-haired figure, one piece happened to catch his eye—a leather brooch dyed in a soft, muted purple.
The deeper the petals curled inward, the richer the color became. At first glance, it looked like a real flower. It resembled an Icebird Blossom, and the center where the stamen would be was carved from deep amethyst. It looked expensive—but it was beautiful.
“How much for this?”
Seiyad’s curt question made the vendor, who had been watching them the whole time, smile brightly.
“One gold coin.”
A single gold coin could support a northern commoner for several months. It was indeed costly—but to Tither, it was a negligible expense. Seiyad was far from extravagant. He allocated his budget solely toward military reinforcements and managing his territory to fend off Nir’a. What he had in abundance was money.
“I’ll take it.”
As he pulled a gold coin from his cloak, the vendor carefully wrapped the brooch in a piece of fine silver-dyed cloth. Apparently pleased that Seiyad had made the purchase without bargaining, the merchant expressed his gratitude repeatedly. Ressas had remained silent the entire time, but once the transaction was over, he finally spoke.
“You picked a beautiful gift—one that resembles you. Is there anything else I can help you with, Duke?”
As if avoiding the gaze that lingered on the hand holding the brooch, Seiyad tucked it away into his cloak. The excuse he’d used had unexpectedly turned into reality, but it was about time they returned to the estate. He left the stall wordlessly, and Ressas silently followed.
All he had to do was bring it up now, and yet Ressas’s unnatural calm unsettled him.
At times, Ressas seemed like a butterfly that had shed its cocoon, entirely different from the boy Seiyad remembered. But in moments like this, he was unmistakably the same: a child who quietly swallowed his sorrow and claimed to be fine even with that same pitiful, downcast face from the past.
It wasn’t that Seiyad pitied Ressas or wanted to reciprocate his feelings. He had simply decided it was necessary to pay the price for maintaining a stable relationship.
“There isn’t actually someone I intend to give the gift to.”
Seiyad turned around. Ressas, who had been following silently, stopped in his tracks. A trace of confusion crossed his previously blank face. His long lashes curled upward as if startled.
“I lured Your Highness out because I needed to discuss something regarding Jasper. If Your Highness truly regrets what happened to my mother and wishes to help me, then I ask that you follow me from this point forward.”
Saying such things was deeply unpleasant for Seiyad. He preferred moving alone and despised relying on anyone. And the one he was turning to—was Ressas. Involving him in a matter tied to House Shildras, when he had long stood as an ally of Zion Shildras, posed a clear risk of the truth leaking out.
For Seiyad, trust was the most uncertain thing in existence. In fact, he wasn’t even sure it existed at all.
Still, the reason he chose to try was because of Ressas’s silence despite knowing what had happened with Jasper. For once, Seiyad had decided to trust him. Just for a moment. Just during that brief time when Ressas mistook desire for love, perhaps he could be his ally—his certain, unwavering ally.
“…So the gift wasn’t meant for someone else?”
As Seiyad remained silent, trying to brace himself through the discomfort of this decision, Ressas finally spoke. Instead of asking about Jasper, he was still fixated on the gift. It was disconcerting.
“Are you really asking about the gift at a time like this?”
“I intended to leave the matter of Jasper to you. He is, indeed, my loyal knight—but he’s not more important than you. I already told you, didn’t I? You’re free to do whatever you want with me. And since my knight is mine, if the Duke desires it, I will give you anything.”
That calm voice explained a strange, blind devotion. Seiyad was momentarily speechless, blinking slowly.
“My Tither need only say the word.”
As those violet eyes curved with emotion, they briefly pricked at his chest like a needle. Even though Seiyad told himself the weight in those empty words was nothing more than fantasy, he couldn’t bring himself to scoff aloud.
There’s no such thing as kindness without a price. Just as Aster had used him, Ressas must want something too.
Once he managed to sort through the clutter in his mind in his own way, the discomfort eased somewhat. Still, the guilt remained. In the end, he was once again indebted to Ressas.
Trying to relieve himself of that weight pressing against his chest, he pulled out the brooch he’d just tucked away. With a gesture void of any deeper meaning, he held it out to Ressas.
“It seemed to please Your Highness, so you may have it. Of course, this doesn’t mean I’m substituting this for the price of today’s request. Once our business is finished, I’ll compensate you properly with whatever you deem fair.”
Ressas’s soft, curved eyes widened, startled. His gaze fixated on Seiyad’s hand in stunned silence, watching the brooch without uttering a word. Seiyad added quietly.
“If you don’t want it, feel free to give it to someone else—or throw it away.”
He had only offered because Ressas kept glancing at it and calling it beautiful, but now he wondered if it was too feminine a gift for a man. That was why he added the comment. At that, Ressas suddenly reached out. His fingers brushed the back of Seiyad’s hand—so delicate and careful, as though accepting a real flower. With tender precision, he took Seiyad’s hand.
“No, please give it to me.”
His voice was steady but full of yearning. His other hand joined the first, cupping Seiyad’s hand between both of his. Their eyes met again, and in Ressas’s gaze, Seiyad saw it—an aching thirst.
“Please… let me keep a fragment of you.”
Over something so insignificant, the prince was begging his vassal. Seiyad furrowed his dark brows and twisted his hand free from Ressas’s grasp. As he handed over the brooch, he coldly pulled himself away.
“Do as you wish.”
Ressas accepted the meaningless gift with both hands, carefully cradling it. For several seconds, he gazed down at it, lost in stillness.
Then, lifting his head slowly, a pure, radiant smile spread across his face. The lips that had remained pale and stiff finally softened, and his violet eyes sparkled like gems. A faint blush bloomed on his white cheeks. At the same time, the faint clouds that had cloaked his beautiful face lifted, and sunlight poured down on him in shimmering rays.
“I’m happy, Eid.”
The sky cleared as if by magic, and golden sunlight came crashing down. It wiped away the shadows and bathed everything in warm light. To Seiyad, it was almost blinding. He squinted against the dazzling glare.
