“Eid.”
The turmoil in Ressas’s heart came through with every gesture he made, as if he didn’t know what to do. His brows curved with desperation, his lovely violet eyes fixed solely on him, his lips trembling restlessly—all of it pierced at Seiyad’s heart. But truthfully, Seiyad himself had no idea what he was supposed to do either.
Why was his chest burning like this? It wasn’t as if he’d been insulted—so why did it hurt so much?
It was a contradiction he’d never felt before in his entire life. Ressas’s actions were foolish, reckless, even maddeningly naïve—but not once had he insulted or blamed Seiyad. There was no reason to feel offended, and yet for some reason, his insides ached. The sharp twinge in the center of his ribs made him want to press hard against his abdomen to ease the discomfort.
“If you tell me what I did wrong, I promise I’ll never make the same mistake again. When you’re sad, it feels like the whole world is collapsing. I may never be the one to make you smile, but… I don’t want to be the one who makes you cry either…”
As Seiyad remained silent, Ressas’s voice grew more and more desperate. Leaning forward, he gently brushed Seiyad’s cheek with trembling hands, gazing at him with an expression so stricken it bordered on fear. His fingers traced along the corners of Seiyad’s eyes, and after a brief hesitation, he wrapped both arms tightly around him.
Seiyad didn’t push him away. Though the boy in front of him had hidden so much, perhaps deceptively so, his emotions—those at least—were painfully real. That sincerity, the raw inability to mask his feelings, was unmistakable.
This boy—this boy who knew nothing of self-preservation and came crashing forward until his whole body was bruised—he had cherished him for that very reason. And now, that child he thought he’d lost had grown into this overwhelming presence. Yet the very qualities Seiyad had once recognized and valued in him still remained.
“Don’t cry… my love…”
Perhaps it was Seiyad’s silence that frightened him—Ressas whispered, rubbing his forehead into the crook of Seiyad’s neck. Like a young beast seeking affection, he nuzzled into his soft hair without reserve. The featherlight touch brushing his throat tickled unbearably, and slowly, Seiyad’s heart began to soften.
“…Never throw yourself into danger like that again.”
After a long pause, Seiyad finally spoke, realizing what it was he couldn’t bear. He didn’t want to see Ressas get hurt. He still didn’t understand the full reason why—but when he saw the sword piercing Ressas’s abdomen, that single instant had filled him with paralyzing fear.
“But if it’s a choice between that and seeing Eid get hurt, then… I choose this.”
After all his begging, Ressas now turned around and argued back easily. He looked up from where he’d been nuzzling, his eyes genuinely confused.
“I’d rather be the one hurt than watch Eid in pain.”
“I’m not the kind of lunatic who could stand by and let someone else suffer.”
“If I hadn’t done that, Eid would’ve gotten hurt again like it was nothing.”
It was hard to argue with that. He wouldn’t have died, but he’d certainly have ended up with a hole in his abdomen.
“It’s fine if it’s me.”
“Why?”
“Because… that’s the duty of a Tither.”
“No. No one is supposed to be hurt like it’s inevitable. If that’s how we’re deciding, then since I can recover quickly, I’m the better option to take the hit.”
He had meant to challenge Ressas’s logic, but it was his own reasoning that fell apart instead. Still, he couldn’t suppress the rising frustration and frowned deeply. His lips set in a hard line and his brow furrowed sharply—at that, Ressas seemed to collapse like sugar melting in water.
“If that’s what Eid wants, I’ll try not to do it again. But Eid, I don’t want to see you hurt either. You’re such a kind person—you sacrifice yourself so easily for others—but as someone who loves you…”
Ressas leaned closer. His lips were only a breath away when he whispered:
“Every time I see you like that, I just want to die in your place.”
In that moment, his violet eyes seemed to lose all light. Seiyad noticed the fleeting emptiness in his gaze—and realized that those words were genuine.
Why?
Why me…?
The weight of Ressas’s emotions was so overwhelming, it nearly crushed him. It made Seiyad feel guilty for having once dismissed his love as unbelievable. Lips parting but saying nothing, he could only stare, stunned. Watching him, Ressas asked softly:
“Then, should we promise… to hurt each other as little as possible?”
“…I can’t give you a definite answer.”
“Even so, Eid… just think of me once—before you throw yourself into danger again. Think about how I’ll be stuck to your side, pestering you endlessly if you get hurt. If you hate being bothered, then before you act recklessly… try trusting your companions.”
Companions. That word was foreign to someone who’d never truly had any. But even so, Seiyad didn’t want Ressas doing anything reckless again. After a moment’s hesitation, he gave a small nod.
“Then I’ll need a token of the promise.”
“What kind of token?”
“A kiss.”
The whisper came from so close that any movement would have closed the distance. Seiyad scowled.
“Is this your idea of Purification?”
Ressas gave a faint smile. His sorrowful eyes curved like a crescent moon.
“You can call it Purification, if you’d like.”
His hand returned to Seiyad’s cheek. The broad palm easily cradled his face. A scent like pine—cool, sharp—lingered on him, even though his body had been soaked in blood not long before.
“But I’ll call it… a kiss.”
The words Ressas had whispered so selfishly ended there.
He closed the distance without giving Seiyad any chance to escape. Just like that day in the palace when he’d embraced him without warning, he offered not even a second for retreat—he simply claimed Seiyad’s lips. Lips that had stayed dry for so long were instantly moistened at Ressas’s touch, like parched earth melting into softness the moment rain fell after a long winter drought.
Strangely enough, the moment their lips met, Seiyad didn’t want to think about anything else either. He grabbed the tattered hem of Ressas’s robe and pulled him close. Their bodies pressed flush together. Staggering as if they’d devour each other, they shifted until Seiyad found himself lying on the ground. The earth, warmed with spring’s breath, wasn’t cold—it was soft, comforting. The fresh scent of grass wafted up from below.
Haa, ha—breaths tangled together, indistinguishable from whose they were. Draped over Seiyad naturally, Ressas moved like a creature following its instincts, awkward but intense, slipping between his legs. His body, lean and swift, might have appeared light at first glance, but once he pressed down, the weight was undeniable. His broad chest easily eclipsed Seiyad. The sensation of being pinned sent a chill crawling up his spine.
Without realizing, Seiyad arched his back slightly—an instinctive, intimate movement. As Ressas kissed him feverishly, tongues tangling with abandon, the touch against his thigh made him startle and pull away.
Wet black hair clung to his glistening forehead, and beneath it, his pupils had constricted. The desire in his gaze was so heavy it seemed it could suffocate. Seiyad reached out without thinking and slid his hand beneath the open folds of Ressas’s robe, stroking the freshly healed skin of his abdomen. The pale muscle was warm, smooth—his fingers slipped over it like silk. It felt sinfully good—so good he didn’t want to stop.
“Eid, please… stop…”
Ressas furrowed his brows, eyes wild with conflict, and caught Seiyad’s wrist. But there was no force in his grip. He held on only because he didn’t know what else to do. Seiyad himself wasn’t even sure what he wanted. He merely dragged his fingers along Ressas’s hard, defined abs, tracing the curves without any clear aim.
When that beautiful face twisted with arousal, a strange urge flared up in him. For a moment, he didn’t even register this as Purification. All he wanted was to return the act Ressas had once given him—that unbearably pleasurable sensation—and then more. He just… wanted to feel more of him. To feel everything.
He didn’t realize how far he was stepping out of the bounds of the life he’d lived. Following that impulse, his hand began to slide lower. Just then, as if recognizing the touch, Ressas’s cheeks flushed a fiery red—but before anything else could happen, Vine, who had been sleeping nearby, stirred and mumbled:
“Wow… Nir’a… it really does look like a pig. How fascinating… looks delicious…”
Seiyad, caught up entirely in instinct, barely paid attention. A Tither and their guide doing strange things during Purification—wasn’t it a knight’s duty to overlook such things?
But Ressas couldn’t.
His expression turned cold in an instant, and he twisted away sharply. Before Seiyad could stop him, he sat up, shielding him with his body. He didn’t forget to grab the discarded cloak and cover Seiyad with it.
The way he bristled, like a wild beast on high alert, snapped Seiyad back to reality. Only then did he recall the original reason he’d approached Ressas—to tend to his wounds. Guilt followed close behind. What had he been doing with an injured person in his arms?
“…Your Highness.”
At Seiyad’s call, Ressas turned. Beneath him, Seiyad stared blankly at his exposed upper body. That sculpted neck of ivory led down to a torso that looked like it had been carved from marble.
Below the well-formed chest, taut muscles ran in clean lines across his abdomen. As Seiyad’s gaze followed the slope lower—beneath the white trousers that barely concealed the obvious shape of Ressas’s arousal—he flinched.
Though still clothed, the outline was shockingly distinct… and impossibly large.
He hadn’t paid it much thought last time when all he felt was the sensation—but now, seeing even the vague silhouette, his insides ignited, flushing scarlet with heat.
