It felt strange enough that the small, pretty boy who once barely reached Seiyad’s waist had grown into a young man who now looked down at him. But the moment he glimpsed unmistakable signs of adulthood in him like now, he was at a loss for what to do. It felt like a blush searing across his cheeks, or perhaps like being touched by something secret buried deep inside him.
Unable to face Ressas properly with a clear head, Seiyad instinctively turned his head slightly. When he moved just enough to emphasize the sharp line of his jaw, Ressas—who had been gazing down at him—leaned in closer. Beneath the faint scent of pine, a feverish heat tinged with excitement radiated from him.
“Shh, it’s okay. Vine’s asleep.”
Not that Seiyad had been paying attention to his surroundings anyway. If anything, it was Ressas himself who had been bristling like a startled cat. The problem wasn’t where they were—it was Ressas. It was hard to look at him head-on. The very thought of meeting his eyes made a maddening tickle rise inside, and a shiver run down his neck.
“I want to see Eid’s eyes. Look at me, will you?”
His voice was as sultry as a whisper exchanged between lovers in bed. At that low, molten tone that seemed to melt his brain, Seiyad raised his hand to half-cover his eyes and reluctantly turned his face. Only then did he see Ressas, perfectly shielding him from view, ensuring that no one else could see Seiyad.
“Eid.”
Their eyes finally met through the slight gap between his fingers. Ressas’ gaze, heated and curious, lingered for a moment before softening into an enigmatic smile.
“Are you embarrassed?”
Like someone caught red-handed, Seiyad flared in irritation instead. Forcing down the hand that had been covering his face, he straightened his expression.
“I am not.”
“Then why did you suddenly cover your face?”
“You yourself know that one mustn’t carelessly gaze upon a royal body.”
“But didn’t you look at mine quite freely when we were young?”
The way he said it, anyone might think it had happened often. In truth, it had only been three or four times. All he had done was help the boy change clothes after wandering through the forest near the southern palace—he had never seen his entire body. At most, he had glimpsed a doll-like, soft and smooth upper body.
“Back then, it wasn’t like now…”
Seiyad’s attempt to explain was cut short. Ressas seized the moment and pressed further.
“Not like now?”
“……”
Words hovered at the edge of his lips, but nothing came out. His throat locked up. He looked up at Ressas with a desperate expression, only to see something shift in the other’s face. The bright, open look vanished, replaced by the burning hunger of a man consumed with desire.
“Because back then, I wasn’t a man who desperately wanted you… was that why it was okay?”
Ressas slowly lowered his head and pressed his lips to Seiyad’s ear. The low voice that slipped inside grazed his eardrum with a chilling thrill. A tremor ran down Seiyad’s spine, and his lower abdomen tensed involuntarily. Even without doing anything, his body felt locked in a tight coil of tension.
“Do I seem… just a little like an adult now? Have I come to mean something to the Duke?”
The yearning in Ressas’ voice went beyond mere lust; it carried a raw, aching earnestness. Every time Seiyad felt him so vividly, his own chest felt like it might burst open. Overwhelmed with a euphoric haze that threatened to rob him of reason, he flinched—and Ressas caught his earlobe with his lips.
At the feel of someone biting into a place no one had ever touched, his sanity snapped. Scalding emotion surged through Seiyad like a tidal wave, giving him no room to resist. He moved on instinct, raising his head to bite down on the side of Ressas’ neck, pulling the man’s upper body into his arms. As their bodies pressed and rubbed together, it was as if they were endlessly trying to touch, to connect.
Two tall men tangled messily together. The black cloak spread across the grass crumpled beneath them, rustling with their movements. But the sound was drowned by the chirping of night insects nearby. In this secluded forest, where no one watched or judged, where only the existence of the other mattered, they shared their body heat deeply.
Even the friction of their long legs entangled together brought a dizzying pleasure. Compared to the fleeting moments he’d shared with women, this wasn’t even supposed to count as much. Yet strangely, this felt more real, more maddening—this sense of connection with the man in front of him.
Panting, he let out shallow breaths and then pulled Ressas tight, leaving a bite mark on his tender nape. As his teeth sank into that soft skin, both of them reached the same climax.
Seiyad felt the arm braced beside his face tremble. Ressas, his beautiful features completely disheveled, lowered his head and exhaled hot breaths through flushed lips. A bead of sweat rolled down his white chin, trailing along the length of his neck, before finally dropping onto Seiyad’s cloak.
Seiyad kept his arms wrapped around Ressas, burying his face in the other’s chest. Whether it was sweat or tears, he rubbed it into him, pretending to steady his breath. There was no need to analyze anything—this fleeting moment, simply feeling Ressas’ pulse, was so precious it ached.
Thankfully, Ressas said nothing. He simply embraced Seiyad, resting his face against the other’s shoulder in the same way. Their ragged breathing quieted gradually, and for a long time, they remained like that.
Time passed, and dawn began to creep in. They could no longer pretend silence. The sound of Vine and Rigda shifting in their sleep grew louder. It wouldn’t be long before they awoke. Seiyad realized the time had come to start cleaning up. He slowly released the arms holding Ressas, only for Ressas to tighten his embrace in lingering reluctance.
“…We need to prepare before morning comes.”
Now that his mind had cleared, the earlier act filled him with no small amount of embarrassment. The clear signs left on their clothes, the disheveled appearances—they told the story unmistakably. Seiyad suddenly wanted to wash up as quickly as possible. He wanted to pretend none of it had happened.
Because what had just occurred wasn’t something that fit who he was. There had been other ways to undergo Purification. But whenever he was with Ressas, his heart always betrayed him, moving entirely of its own accord.
This version of himself felt unfamiliar. It wasn’t that he disliked it, but it felt like he was veering off track—as if he were rolling toward some unknown destination, far from the path he was meant to follow. That sense of disorientation stirred a deep unease.
Even Seiyad knew there was a limit to how long he could keep using “Purification” as an excuse. Yet while part of him wanted to understand these feelings, another part refused to know. One thing was certain—it was no longer the same as before. Back when he cherished young Ressas like a younger brother, these strange, tangled emotions had never existed. But now, they had taken root deep within him, constantly stirring reckless impulses.
The frustration was suffocating, like it would drive him mad. He wanted to reach inside himself, scrape out every feeling, examine them one by one, name them. But doing so would mean confronting the emotions in his own hands, and his consciousness resisted that with all its might. After all, Seiyad didn’t have time to dwell on something as trivial as his own emotions.
…That’s right. There’s too much to do. This isn’t the time to act on impulse.
Only now was he finally tearing down the blackout curtain that had kept him from the truth. Once they left the forest, he would have to deal with Zion’s situation and find a way to bring down Aster. He also had countless things to ask Ressas. He barely had enough time to uncover the necessary answers—there was no room for personal reflection.
Trying to force himself to focus, Seiyad attempted to suppress the emotions that were bubbling up inside him. But like water weeds rising to the surface, his stirred heart refused to stay submerged. To convince himself, he tried to pull away from Ressas.
“…It’s strange that something as simple as touching you could be so blissful I feel like I could die.”
But Ressas didn’t let go, even after hearing him. Instead, he whispered softly. Seiyad, who had been about to push him away, paused.
“Being close to the one you love… turns out it’s even more joyous than I thought.”
Seiyad opened his lips to speak. It was no longer easy to brush off Ressas’s feelings as mere lust—not now, knowing that they ran deeper than that.
“Your Highness… what is it that you want from me?”
So he asked, hoping to gain at least a little clarity on how he should respond.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do when you say things like that. Are you asking me to accept your feelings? I understand now, at the very least, that Your Highness has genuine feelings for me. But even so…”
Confessing your heart to someone means you want to be with them. And there are only two possible outcomes: acceptance or rejection.
“A Tither and a Guide can’t be together, anyway. It’s a longstanding prohibition. I must produce a child to carry on the bloodline of the North, so my marriage partner must be a woman.”
The ban on romantic relationships between Tithers and Guides existed to preserve the delicate power balance between them. It was also intended to prevent unfair or preferential Purification, among other negative consequences.
There had been cases where Tithers went mad from having to witness the person they loved purify someone else. And Guides, like Ressas, who recklessly ventured into the forest to protect their Tithers. The rule existed for a reason, and it had always been strictly upheld.
But even without all that, Seiyad’s only option had always been rejection. He’d tried to dismiss Ressas’s feelings outright, to prevent things from ever coming to a head. But now that things had come this far, he had no choice but to state his position clearly.
Seiyad had no right to love anyone. The blood he had spilled would remain forever on his soul, and it was a contradiction for a sinner like him to pursue happiness.
Ressas remained silent for a moment. As he breathed in soft, ragged breaths, he gently stroked Seiyad’s back before slowly letting go and pulling away. They sat facing each other in silence. A faint breeze stirred the strands of hair on Ressas’s smooth, pale forehead, sending them drifting across his eyes.
“I confessed to the Duke because I knew you wouldn’t accept my heart. So please don’t apologize. I’m not so shameless as to believe someone as noble and beautiful as you should be tied to my side.”
His confession scattered gently, without resentment.
“I just wanted to show you that you’re someone who deserves to be loved deeply. That you deserve kind words, to be cherished and protected. I wanted you to get used to that—just a little. I didn’t want you to bear all the responsibility alone. And I never wanted you to…”
Ressas smiled brightly.
“…believe that you’re some terrible person.”
Even though it wasn’t a situation where anyone should be smiling.
“Even if everyone else misunderstands you, I’ll be the one to love you. So you’re never alone, Duke.”
In the moment when he offered his heart, Ressas simply smiled.
“But the Duke is someone beloved by all, anyway. Eventually, you’ll live a life where you’re so used to things like this, you’ll grow tired of them. Once the forest is purified and everyone finds their rightful place, you’ll be happy. I’ll make sure of it.”
Hearing him speak so calmly, Seiyad got the feeling Ressas had been thinking only of this outcome all along. As if he had already imagined that future. Ressas smiled with quiet joy, then slowly stood and reached out his hand.
“To make that happen, I need to stay by your side for a while. So I had to show you why I was acting this way when we reunited. I never intended to burden you with pain or pressure. So please, don’t worry about my feelings.”
It was the most foolish confession Seiyad had ever heard, and he frowned. A raw ache settled in his throat, his chest stung, and for a moment, he thought he might lash out. Just moments ago, he had reminded himself that he needed to return to his place. But now that Ressas was following that wish, it made him feel inexplicably awful.
Ressas, perhaps misunderstanding that expression, looked troubled. Watching Ressas act as if he had no heart of his own, Seiyad was struck with a sense of recognition. At a glance, Ressas looked much like Seiyad himself in the past—but at the very least, Seiyad had erased himself to achieve what he wanted.
But Ressas wasn’t acting for his own sake at all. That foolishness… Seiyad couldn’t leave it alone. And in that moment, he suddenly remembered just how often he’d sought out that boy.
