Ressas didn’t wake until late morning. Seiyad, who had been watching over him, had dozed off as well, only snapping back to consciousness when the flutter of eyelashes brushed against his calloused palm. That hardened skin, which had long since stopped feeling much of anything, still managed to register the tickling sensation. Seiyad flinched slightly and pulled his arm away as the sensation crawled up his hand.
The moment he moved the hand shielding Ressas’s eyes, he was met with wide, violet eyes staring up at him. The beautiful gaze blinked, seemingly unable to grasp the situation, then tilted upward to meet Seiyad’s eyes. A faint blush bloomed across Ressas’s pale cheeks. The disbelieving look in his eyes lingered before briefly pausing. Seiyad stared down at him in return.
‘Why is he so startled?’
He tilted his head in confusion. When Ressas was younger, there had been plenty of times he’d fallen asleep like this. It wasn’t a particularly unfamiliar situation. As he pondered, Seiyad glanced toward a crack in the barn wall. It was late. If Ressas hadn’t expected to sleep in, then he might be understandably surprised.
“It’s still morning. You haven’t slept for long, so if you return now, it’ll be fine.”
When Seiyad whispered those words, Ressas’s lashes trembled. The faint flush on his cheeks deepened into a vivid red, and he quickly sat up. He mumbled in a small voice, flustered.
“Did I… act like that in my sleep?”
His morning voice, low and hoarse, contrasted starkly with his delicate appearance. It was deeper than usual, even unfamiliar to Seiyad. Far more mature than when he’d been in the cabin half a year ago. It sent a chill tingling in Seiyad’s ear. Thinking that this was the kind of voice that someone might hear after spending a night with Ressas left him feeling oddly off-kilter.
“I didn’t mean to bother Your Grace in my sleep. You could’ve just pushed me off… No, I’m sorry.”
Unlike his usual smooth and composed manner, Ressas was clearly at a loss, genuinely flustered. Seiyad, momentarily amused by how cute he looked, snapped himself back to reality. They had already spent far too long in the barn. It was time to calm things down and set off.
“It’s nothing. You looked uncomfortable, so I acted on my own. If I made you uncomfortable, I apologize.”
Ressas froze as though he hadn’t even considered that possibility. A flurry of expressions passed over his face in a flash—his eyebrows curved in delight, then the joy slowly faded into sadness.
“That’s not it at all. You would never do anything to make me uncomfortable. If anything, it was a kindness I never dared hope for, so I…”
He trailed off and swept his hair back from his forehead. After swallowing a small sigh, he gave that familiar smile—the one he always wore when pretending everything was fine. A polite, practiced smile that only appeared when things were far from okay.
“When you’re this gentle with me, I can’t keep holding back. So please… don’t be so kind to me, if you really intend to keep your distance.”
Those words were the same ones Ressas had said the night before, just before falling asleep. It was something Seiyad had momentarily forgotten after hearing Tiaki’s comment, even though it had been what he himself had wished for. He should have been grateful for Ressas’s restraint, but instead, it stung.
“Is that so?”
“I know it probably meant nothing to Eid since you’re always kind… but I just… I like you so much, that’s all.”
After saying it, Ressas looked away. Hearing those words—I like you so much—Seiyad felt something catch at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to respond, but the words hadn’t yet taken shape. His chest burned.
“I’m not a kind person. I’ve probably been more cruel to you than I’ve been kind. The person you remember is just a relic of the past. Even now, I’m hardly the kind of retainer who serves you well.”
“Tither isn’t a retainer. You’re the reason Solias exists. You don’t need to serve the royal family. And that means you, too, don’t need to observe formalities with me.”
Ressas brushed the corner of his lips with his fingers and slowly stood up. Standing tall, he looked down at Seiyad. He reached out as if to touch him, but quickly pulled his hand back, as if remembering himself.
“And you’ve always been kind. Even though things around you were never good, you never once abandoned your duty. Even when you hated me, you never did anything that would truly hurt me. Even when you had every reason to hate me, you didn’t.”
He spoke those words, not even realizing how much pain Seiyad had inflicted on him in a past life. Seiyad had willingly allowed someone precious to Ressas to die for the sake of his own goals. He was nothing more than a sinner.
For the first time, Seiyad found himself wishing that Ressas would never remember his foolish past. It was a different feeling from before. Until now, he had feared Ressas remembering because he wasn’t sure of his feelings. But now, he feared it because he didn’t want his past actions to drive Ressas away.
Those two fears came from entirely different places. Now, all Seiyad could think was that he didn’t want to disappoint him.
“We’re running late because of me. Let’s go. Before my brother makes an even bigger mess of things.”
When Ressas added that comment, Seiyad finally nodded. Whenever he was with Ressas, it became too easy to forget all the chaos surrounding them. He kept losing sight of what should have been his priorities. Refocusing himself, Seiyad rose to prepare for departure. Just before leaving the barn, their eyes met again—and when Ressas smiled at him, Seiyad felt a sudden turbulence inside.
Tiaki’s nonsense really had done something to him.
Seiyad borrowed some water the farmer had set aside and washed his face quickly, promising to repay the favor. Perhaps scared by Tiaki’s threats, the farmer simply said it was fine and kept asking if they needed anything else. They already owed too much, so Seiyad declined and returned, but upon seeing Ressas fully prepared, he began to second-guess himself. Should I have brought at least a light snack?
“Are you hungry?”
He remembered the apple he had taken. Walking over to where Ressas was waiting beside the horse, he asked, and Ressas responded gently.
“I’m fine.”
“You haven’t eaten in over a day.”
“Neither have you, Your Grace.”
“It’s not like we’re heading straight into battle, so I’ll be fine.”
Meals were primarily for replenishing energy anyway, and in a situation like this, they weren’t a pressing matter. What concerned him more was the prince—still so young—who’d gone hungry.
After a moment of hesitation, Seiyad offered an apple to Ressas. Holding the reins of his horse, Ressas blinked at him.
“In the end, it’s my duty to serve my liege. I hope this much won’t be seen as bothersome. I remembered that you liked apples.”
Ressas stared at the hand holding the plump, ripened red fruit, then cautiously reached out. After a moment of thought, he accepted it and offered tentatively,
“Then let’s share it.”
“It might be better if you eat it while we ride. As you said, it’s impossible to predict what His Highness the Crown Prince might be plotting.”
Seiyad mounted his horse. Ressas looked up at him, paused briefly, and asked,
“You want the fall of Shildras, don’t you?”
The question touched a raw nerve—one of Seiyad’s deepest conflicts. From the moment Zion had been publicly branded a traitor, it had unsettled him. Just as Ressas had said, Seiyad did want the remnants of the previous Shildras, who had sacrificed both his mother and his comrades for their own desires, to be wiped out. Zion, who had looked down on him in complete ignorance, was also a target for that revenge.
And yet, damn it all—what tormented him was precisely that Zion had truly known nothing. Watching him fall from a beloved hero to a hated devil overnight drove home the truth: Zion was just another pawn on the chessboard.
“If that’s the case, then maybe this time, the right move is not to stop your brother. What he wants… is the death of Shildras.”
Truthfully, a part of him wanted to indulge the dark emotions that had plagued him for years and simply watch Zion and his family sink into despair. Seiyad knew better than anyone how easy it was to choose indifference—he had done it often enough.
But indifference was also what tormented the soul most deeply. Even when one turned away knowing something was wrong, the guilt would cling to them forever. Even if buried under layers of denial, it would resurface in dreams.
“I want to grant you what you wish. So when it comes to Shildras—when it comes to revenge—I’ll follow your lead.”
Ressas didn’t pressure him. He simply met Seiyad’s gaze and waited, calm and patient. And in that gaze, a whisper rose within him.
‘Sin doesn’t pass down. Vengeance should be reserved for those who have sinned. You, more than anyone, know how it feels to be condemned just for being someone’s child.’
That whisper wasn’t new. It was a truth Seiyad had known all along—from the moment he decided to hate Ressas simply because he was Queen Leana’s son.
“I…”
This decision wasn’t about helping Zion. It was about doing the right thing.
“I don’t want to play along with the Crown Prince’s agenda. I’m done making the mistake of seeing only the trees and not the forest.”
If Aster wanted Zion eliminated, then it was Seiyad’s responsibility to stop it. In a time when Tither needed every person they could get, it would be foolish to let personal grudges weaken their forces.
“Then I’ll make sure your wish comes true.”
Upon hearing Seiyad’s answer, Ressas smiled with genuine joy. As his eyes curved sweetly in that smile, the tension in Seiyad’s heart—twisted by conflicted decisions—finally began to ease. That beautiful smile muddled his thoughts, and just as he began to turn away, Ressas suddenly stepped closer, as if remembering something.
“You should take the apple. It’s your favorite, isn’t it?”
Seiyad glanced down at the red apple being offered to him. With an unreadable expression, he considered it for a moment before slowly leaning forward. He bent low enough for his lips to brush the fruit resting on Ressas’s palm, then sank his teeth in.
Crunch. The sound echoed through the air as his bite left a clear mark. Sweet juice spread across his tongue, washing away the bitterness that had lingered just moments before. His expression softened.
“Since you offered to share, I’m satisfied with just this much.”
Seiyad used Ressas’s own words as an excuse as he licked the juice from his lips. For some reason, Ressas froze, stunned all over again just like when he’d first woken up earlier.
“If that made you uncomfortable, you can throw it away.”
“No, Eid, it’s not that…”
As if afraid Seiyad might try to take the apple from him, Ressas quickly clutched it tight. He stepped back, gripping the reins with trembling hands, and turned his head sharply away. His chest rose and fell visibly.
“Every time you do things like that… I feel so happy I want to die.”
With a voice that trembled with both joy and pain, Ressas mounted his horse. Seiyad wanted to see his expression, but the chance never came. Ressas pulled the reins with one hand and spurred forward. Seiyad followed after him, watching the wide back that, unusually, never once turned around.
For the first time in his life, Seiyad felt the urge to take back something he had said.
…Maybe it was because the way Ressas was avoiding him felt far more unfamiliar than he had expected.
