Rumors ran rampant along every road leading to the ducal estate. Every last person in the territory lingered in hopes of hearing just a bit more news, consumed with curiosity over what punishment their lord might face. Whatever had spread overnight, it had escalated to extreme speculation—some even claimed that the land itself might be wiped off the map, cursed as the birthplace of a Devil. Perhaps that explained the crowds swelling near the estate walls.
The resentment toward their lord was thick enough to spark a revolt. At this rate, even if Aster didn’t move directly against Zion, the South looked ready to fracture all on its own.
“Your Grace, please go on ahead. It’s better we enter separately, lest we create more rumors.”
Before Seiyad could even suggest it, Ressas had already spoken. He turned to glance at him, slowing the pace of his horse. Ressas still held the apple in his hand—the one Seiyad had offered him to eat—without having taken a single bite. It bothered him. And not just that. While he understood that Ressas meant to show him consideration, the fact that he was also being overly conscious of how they might be perceived together was irritating.
He felt ridiculous for letting it get to him. Ressas was only doing what he always had—carrying out Seiyad’s wishes, nothing more. With a bitter self-deprecating chuckle, Seiyad gave a reluctant reply.
“It would be better if Your Highness goes first. The Crown Prince is likely looking for an excuse.”
“Your sister will be worried about you. No one’s waiting for me, so you should go on ahead.”
The calm, matter-of-fact response struck something inside him.
“The knights of your order are waiting for you. They all care for you deeply.”
“They are kind people, yes, but they weren’t gathered for my sake. Originally…”
The sentence trailed off into silence before Ressas continued, now with resolute firmness.
“So do as I say. I have other matters to attend to, so don’t concern yourself.”
That phrase—“don’t concern yourself”—carried a chill that pushed Seiyad back a step. A subtle pang of disappointment, one he’d never felt before, stirred within him. He wanted to argue, but couldn’t, because he knew Ressas was only acting in the way he’d always wanted. In the end, Seiyad turned the reins without another word. He didn’t bother to look back as he rode straight for the ducal estate.
The atmosphere at the mansion was restless. Knights of House Shildras came out to meet Seiyad upon confirming his arrival, but none of them looked pleased. Understandably so. That kind of gloom would soon turn into open resentment toward their lord. Seiyad knew this better than anyone—it was something he had experienced time and again.
The revelation that a Tither, the knight they had so proudly escorted, was a traitor to the kingdom was a disgrace unbearable for those who had sworn their lives to his service. A lord who betrayed the loyalty of his knights was no longer worthy of respect.
“Where is His Highness the Crown Prince?”
Dismounting, Seiyad first sought to assess the situation. One of the knights stepped forward to report.
“He is in the chapel. In fact, he had just summoned Your Grace and the other Tithers.”
“And your lord?”
At the question about Zion, the knight’s expression turned grim. The man, who appeared to be in his middle years, had the bearing of someone with real command—likely one of the officers.
“He has been confined to his room since returning yesterday. The Royal Knights are stationed at the door. He will likely be summoned soon.”
The knight hesitated for a long moment before finally asking, as if bracing himself,
“Did our lord truly do such a thing? Have we… been guarding a house that served the Devil?”
Seiyad stared straight into the knight’s eyes. After a moment under that cold, dispassionate gaze, the knight lowered his head, unable to endure it any longer.
“I wonder if those who are so easily swayed by others’ words even deserve to speak of loyalty.”
Perhaps those words were meant for his own knights as well. Without waiting for a response, Seiyad stepped into the mansion. Before Zion could be dragged before Aster and say something stupid, Seiyad needed to grasp the full scope of the situation himself.
It was broad daylight and there were plenty of guards, but that wouldn’t be enough to stop him.
He made a quick sweep of the mansion. There were plenty of knights stationed outside Zion’s room too—perhaps to prevent even window intrusions. Seiyad considered his options and chose the corridor route.
Glancing up at the shadows cast on the ceiling by fluttering curtains and the ornate decorations scattered throughout the hallway, Seiyad decided to use just enough force. He slipped into the hallway above and, taking advantage of the knights momentarily looking away during their patrol, moved in front of Zion’s door. He slipped in behind the guards standing directly at the entrance and entered the room with ease.
Zion’s room was quiet. Though it was already mid-morning, the heavy curtains kept the room dim, and the air was thick and stale. The gloom that had settled, stagnant and heavy, was a familiar presence. This was the face of despair—one Seiyad had lived alongside all his life.
Zion wasn’t even on the bed. He sat slumped in the corner of the room, knees drawn up to his chest, his face buried in his arms. Gone was the clean, composed figure Seiyad was used to seeing. Silently, Seiyad walked toward him and looked down at the pitiful sight.
Pathetic.
He felt no sympathy for Zion. Others might see him as pitiable, but not Seiyad. They had been through too much. And even after Seiyad chose a different path, Zion had continued to treat him with hostility. There was no reason to like him.
Seiyad had come to accept that a parent’s sins weren’t their child’s burden—but the world didn’t share that distinction. Zion bore guilt of his own. Arrogance and foolishness were, in their own way, sins. Still, no one deserved to be blamed for crimes they hadn’t committed, no matter how flawed their character might be.
What’s more, all of this had happened to Zion in just one week. Seiyad had lived years burdened by the false sins of his mother. To him, this week of suffering looked laughably brief.
“Did you really kill those knights?”
Zion flinched at the sudden voice above him and looked up. His wide, startled eyes narrowed into a frown as soon as he recognized Seiyad. His cheeks flushed in humiliation as he bit his lip and raised his voice.
“How the hell did you get in here?”
“Keep your voice down. The knights outside might hear.”
Seiyad leaned in, his voice laced with menace, and Zion instinctively pressed his back to the wall. He whispered with clenched intensity, golden-brown eyes shimmering with moisture. At least he had the sense to grasp the situation, however minimally.
“Why did you come here? If you’re here to mock me because things finally went your way, then get out. No words of yours will make me feel more miserable than I already do.”
His antagonism hadn’t changed in the slightest. Seiyad suppressed the urge to kick Zion in the gut and asked instead,
“I came to find out if you really killed the knights. You must’ve heard by now that everyone’s being summoned. Even your dim brain should be able to figure out the Crown Prince isn’t going to let you off.”
“So you’re here on orders from that conniving bastard you serve? Planning to force a confession out of me? Don’t waste your time.”
“Have you ever wondered why I chose to serve His Highness Aster?”
Zion shot back instantly.
“Because you’re his Tither.”
“Because he was the only one who offered to prove my mother’s innocence. The same mother your father, Sirkhan Shildras, framed and executed.”
Zion, who had been retorting with defiance, froze at that. Denial flickered through his eyes—he didn’t want to believe it. But then came the shame, and the guilt. His face cycled through several expressions before he turned his gaze aside and murmured,
“My father… would never do something like that.”
“All the evidence says otherwise.”
“It was all orchestrated by the Crown Prince. Everything that happened to me—he set it up. Otherwise…”
Seiyad finally lost his patience and seized Zion by the collar. He couldn’t afford to let him wallow in self-pity.
“Even Bridehit’s testimony—someone who always defended House Shildras—wasn’t enough for you? Then what, the only truth in this world is whatever you say? Do you realize how arrogant and idiotic that sounds? Maybe it’s easy living life twisting everything into whatever suits you, but if that’s how you want to live, then fine—do it alone. Rot in prison while your house crumbles.”
A tide of frustration rose in him. He was sick to death of people plugging their ears and seeing only what they wanted to see.
“If you want to carry this pathetic, miserable feeling for the rest of your life, I won’t stop you. But if you truly see yourself as a Tither and value what that means, then accept what must be accepted—and find a way to survive.”
Zion couldn’t look away from the fire blazing in Seiyad’s eyes. Faced with him, inches away, Zion opened his mouth, lips trembling as if to protest—then instead burst out in a desperate cry. A howl of someone cornered with nowhere left to run.
“Make up your mind. Tell me exactly what happened and take my hand, or cling to your high and mighty pride and watch your mother and sister die.”
“No matter what, they wouldn’t kill a Tither! Who the hell do you think you are, saying something like that—!”
Seiyad sneered at the naive protest. His lips curled as he whispered coldly, gray eyes gleaming with a deathly chill. His expression was that of a reaper.
“And yet my mother died, didn’t she?”
Zion fell silent. Tears that had gathered in his golden-brown eyes finally spilled over. His beautiful, noble features twisted in fear as he began to sob.
“I didn’t want to kill them. I… I was trying to save them. That wasn’t the time to be leisurely harvesting the Skosha tree’s core. I told them to run when the Nir’a swarmed—but they didn’t listen. The ones who died were the ones caught up in that, and the rest—I was trying to save them…! But then, all of a sudden…”
Zion’s voice trembled, terrified Seiyad wouldn’t believe him.
“All of a sudden, the knights started attacking me. All of them, like they’d gone mad. There was nothing I could do. Nothing. I thought if I died, then maybe the Nir’a would scatter…”
Remembering the incident, Zion began to shake uncontrollably. He clutched at Seiyad’s arm, sobbing.
“I didn’t want to kill anyone. How could I kill someone? I’m a Tither—I’m supposed to protect this kingdom…! But they wouldn’t stop. No matter how much I screamed, they kept coming at me…!”
His voice rose sharply at the end, loud enough to stir commotion outside. The door slammed open, and knights burst in—only to find Seiyad inside.
“Your Grace! What in the world are you doing here?!”
It was Adena’s voice. Seiyad turned around, Zion still clinging to him like a child. The knight commander’s face was rigid as he strode into the room, knights following closely behind.
“Duke Axid, Duke Shildras is currently under arrest as a suspect. Were you not informed that visitation is prohibited?”
Seiyad replied with an impassive face.
“First I’ve heard of it. I joined the group later than the others last night—hadn’t the chance to be briefed.”
Adena looked at him like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The Armor of the Blue Moon was composed mostly of high-ranking nobles, and Adena himself was the second son of the Marquess of Dallion. A staunch ally of the Crown Prince, he had clearly lost all pretense of cordiality toward Seiyad.
“That is no excuse. You’ve violated His Highness’s orders. We were heading to the chapel anyway—I’ll report this incident there.”
With that, Adena moved past Seiyad and grabbed Zion by the arm. Another knight seized Zion’s other arm. Their harsh, disrespectful treatment made it clear they already considered him a dead man. Zion’s unstable mind flared with anger, his eyes flashing as if he might unleash his power—but instead, he slowly opened his hand with a pained expression. The air, which had started to hum with energy, calmed once more.
“So this is how you treat a Tither. Is that how one serves a duke?”
It was the same treatment Seiyad’s mother had received. The moment overlapped in his mind, and his emotions churned violently. Adena, unfazed, smirked.
“What good is status to a man about to die? He’s a criminal now. The kingdom’s laws apply equally to all, don’t they?”
Seiyad had ignored him until now, finding him unworthy of attention—but in his past life, Adena had always stood by Aster’s side, constantly sneering at Seiyad and invoking his mother’s supposed crimes. That familiar disdain flickered in his mind.
A man who could be killed with a flick of the wrist dares mock others.
Seiyad stared at him, gray eyes as cold as stone. Adena met his gaze without flinching, blue eyes laced with derision—eyes that reminded him of Aster’s. The standoff grew increasingly tense until a knight burst into the room.
“Commander! His Majesty the King has arrived!”
At the announcement, Adena’s expression instantly stiffened. Seiyad, too, was caught off guard. No one had mentioned the king was coming. It was strange—His Majesty rarely left the capital, preferring to remain in the palace at nearly all costs.
