Even in the heart of winter, the midday sun was surprisingly fierce. Ressas squinted up at the sky, his delicate brows drawing together. In the far north, where spring always arrived last, the days had finally begun to lengthen. Only now, in early March, was the snow beginning to melt.
“Your Highness!”
Seiyad’s alarmed voice rang out in the distance. It wasn’t until he heard his beloved—dearer to him than life itself—that Ressas remembered he had fallen into the snow. Seiyad had spent all winter saying he wanted to have a snowball fight with him, and so, for his sake, they’d been playing like children in the castle garden. But one of Seiyad’s snowballs had flown straight at his face, and embarrassingly, he hadn’t managed to dodge. The soft thud as it hit the bridge of his nose had triggered something—a vision.
Ah…
Ressas instantly recognized it wasn’t his own memory. It belonged to his older brother. A fleeting fragment of the past, lingering only in drifting time, it vanished quickly—too quickly to remember clearly. But even as it faded, the intensity of the regret and sorrow within it remained etched in his chest.
It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Seiyad, or even another Tither, would likely experience similar things someday. Only those blessed with divine power occasionally glimpsed the scars of the world. In Ressas’s case—having once restored the world itself—it simply happened more often.
His chest ached. The emotions had been so raw that they affected even him. Or perhaps it was the weight of his own guilt. Dizzy from the tangled memories, Ressas remained where he was until Seiyad reached him.
“Are you all right, Your Highness?”
Seiyad had rushed over in a flash, his figure blocking the sky. He looked completely flustered, something that rarely happened. The furrow in his brow, the guilt flickering across his lips, the worry painted on his flushed cheeks—it was all unbearably endearing. Maybe it was just his sweet tooth, but to Ressas, his lover always tasted sweet when flustered.
He quietly suppressed the desire that threatened to rise. Calming Seiyad came first.
“Mmh… I’m fine.”
“I’m so sorry. I must’ve packed that snowball way too tightly. I didn’t think… I never imagined you’d just take the hit like that…”
Honestly, if it had been anyone else, they probably would’ve passed out from the impact. The snowball really had been that solid. But Ressas wasn’t someone who would fall over from something so trivial. Still, he couldn’t exactly explain what he’d seen in the vision. So, just for today, he decided to keep the truth from Seiyad. Of course, he would tell him—soon. He’d promised not to keep secrets anymore, and he was doing his best to honor that.
But when it came to his brother, the words just wouldn’t come. Even knowing that Seiyad loved him now—that he’d once wanted him, even back then.
Maybe it was the blood they shared. Ressas knew he resembled Aster in certain ways. They had different gods dwelling within them, but if things had gone differently, maybe he would’ve ended up just like Aster. Perhaps that was why he felt afraid. Or perhaps it was something deeper—a quiet, creeping sense of danger.
Even if he was no longer the most important person in Seiyad’s life… he had been, once. Aster had shared many of Seiyad’s firsts. Just like Ressas could never be his first kiss.
That thought stung. A jealousy he had no right to feel burned hot through his veins like molten metal. Scolding his own foolishness, Ressas muttered under his breath.
“…It hurts.”
It didn’t, really. But the moment he whispered it, Seiyad sank to his knees in anguish. Settling down beside him, he examined Ressas’s face with an expression of deep concern.
“I’m the worst. Next time, I’ll be more careful.”
“Don’t say things like that. Eid isn’t someone who should ever be hurt—no matter what.”
“But…”
Ressas remained lying in the snow, smiling faintly. Then he reached out, palm up, silently asking Seiyad to take his hand.
“Will you help me up?”
“Of course.”
Seiyad obeyed without hesitation. Ressas could’ve stood up on his own, but he’d waited—just for this. He loved when Seiyad let him act a little spoiled. He didn’t do it often, always trying to act like an adult, but moments like this made him feel loved. And in that warmth, happiness washed over him.
The earlier heaviness melted away. As he rose with Seiyad’s help, Ressas swayed a little and nestled into his lover’s shoulder. Maybe from all the moving around, Seiyad’s body was pleasantly warm. As Ressas leaned into that heat, Seiyad gently patted his back and kissed his cheek.
“You should go inside and rest. I’ll call for the doctor.”
He didn’t want to. They’d barely found time for each other today, and he wanted to finish building the snowman, just as Seiyad had planned. Ressas had been busy preparing for his journey to the capital, and Seiyad had his own preparations to make in order to follow him. If they didn’t do it now, the snow would be gone before they had another chance.
“…Eid, did you have nightmares as a child?”
The thought slipped out, almost unbidden.
“…What?”
Seiyad blinked, confused by the sudden question.
“I was wondering… Did little Eid ever have nightmares? I don’t know what you were like back then. I want to know the you I’ve never met. Every part of you. Without missing a single thing.”
“…I definitely packed that snowball too hard.”
Seiyad was learning how to joke now. His half-hearted jab made Ressas’s lips curl into a faint smile. Adorable. Beautiful. So, so lovable. How did he always manage to say just the right thing?
“…Yeah, I had nightmares.”
“You’re so cute.”
Seiyad’s expression turned flat, as if he’d expected that response. He put up with most of Ressas’s rambling, but he never seemed particularly moved by compliments.
“I don’t think so.”
“Did you cry? Go looking for your parents because you were scared?”
“No. My mother was strict. I usually had to get through it on my own.”
Just like in the vision he’d seen. Ressas felt a pang of envy for the bloodline that had known Seiyad before him—and a deep tenderness for the man he now loved. He remembered, in his first life at Axid Castle, how the former Grand Duke had always been especially harsh with Seiyad.
“I’m sorry. You must’ve been so scared… and all alone.”
“Well…”
As Ressas offered quiet comfort, Seiyad hesitated, clearly debating whether to speak. A few seconds passed before he finally responded, his voice casual, as if the confession meant nothing at all.
“…There were a few times, when I was really scared, that I went to find Quilly.”
“So cute…”
Just imagining it—Seiyad, with that usually cold and stoic expression, clutching a pillow and knocking at someone’s door—made Ressas ache. Knowing that he was younger than Seiyad made it hurt all over again. If only he’d been older… maybe he could’ve known that version of Eid. Maybe he could’ve been the one he ran to.
“…Why the sudden curiosity?”
“I just… If you ever have a nightmare, I want to be there for you. Like this.”
It was still a strange thing to say, but Seiyad didn’t call him out on it. Instead, he pulled Ressas into a firm embrace, burying his face in Ressas’s shoulder. Since Ressas was the larger of the two, it looked as if he’d completely enveloped him. Ressas, already overwhelmed by how deeply he adored him, wrapped his arms around Seiyad’s waist without hesitation.
“You sleep next to me every night, don’t you? So there’s no need to worry. If I get scared… I’ll come to you.”
“…That’s right. You’re beside me.”
Completely bare, too.
Ressas could feel the familiar heat rising again, stronger than before. Ever since they’d started sharing a room, he’d discovered something about Seiyad—something maddening. He liked to sleep nude. Not even a thread of clothing. And because of that, Ressas lost his self-control every single night.
Even on the nights when Seiyad seemed exhausted and Ressas told himself to let it go… the moment that warm, bare skin slid beneath the covers, reason flew out the window.
It was an incredibly dangerous habit. No one else could ever know that Seiyad slept like that. The moment someone heard, they’d picture it—and once that image took root, they’d never forget. No. Absolutely not.
“If you ever get scared… just hold onto me like this. I’ll stay right here and make sure you never feel alone.”
In the end, his hands followed his desire. Seiyad had insisted there was no need to dress properly just to step outside, so he was lightly dressed—tight leather trousers and a thick cotton shirt. Just looking at him made Ressas feel cold on his behalf, but Seiyad seemed perfectly fine. Still, worried he might catch a chill, Ressas slipped a hand under his shirt and pressed his palm to Seiyad’s warm skin. Even the faint scars scattered across his back felt sinfully enticing to the touch.
“Your Highness… your hand…”
“Yes, Eid?”
“…It’s cold.”
Seiyad’s tone remained calm, but he gently guided Ressas’s hand lower. The moment Ressas felt the curve of his firm backside, all composure fled. His elegant brows lifted, and heat bloomed in his violet eyes.
“…Let’s go inside.”
“Oh? Planning to do it out here?”
“No! That’s not what I meant—!”
He hadn’t meant that at all, but the moment Seiyad teased him, his mind blanked. He lost himself for a moment, rubbing up against him instinctively—and only snapped back to reality when he realized his hands had spread Seiyad’s cheeks apart. With effort, he swallowed his ragged breathing and pulled back.
“If we do it out here, you’ll catch a cold…”
“Says the man who, just a few days ago, did it outside…”
They’d gone for a walk in the garden, and Seiyad’s smile had been so radiant in the warming spring air that Ressas had slipped. He’d pushed him against a tree, kissed him, and things had quickly spiraled—especially since Seiyad had encouraged him the whole way.
Seiyad was dangerously sensual. He always tried to stay composed at first, but once aroused, he shed all hesitation. That meant Ressas had to be the one to keep control.
“Not today… I’ll behave, I swear!”
“It was just a tease. I have no intention of doing anything outside with someone who got knocked out by a snowball.”
That made him feel like the most fragile man in the world. He mumbled the truth to himself, unable to say it aloud, when Seiyad pulled him close again—his gaze soft and full of affection.
“We should go. You’re being way too cute today, and I don’t think I can hold back much longer.”
“I’m cute?”
“Of course. You’ve always been cute—even when you were little.”
“Well, that’s nice, but I’m a grown man now…”
“Oh, I definitely know that. You make it very clear every night.”
Their banter was filled with affection, both playful and warm. Hand in hand, with Seiyad gently tugging him along, Ressas let himself be led back toward the castle. Just before stepping inside, he glanced up at the sky. The gentle sunlight above stirred something deep within him—like a memory that didn’t belong to him.
Ressas knew he would never be able to grant someone exactly what they wanted. Even if he were reborn, he was certain he’d still choose Seiyad. Even in death, he would remain by his side. But… there was one thing he’d done for him. One thing he could say with certainty.
That broken time had bloomed into something beautiful.
And now, Seiyad was no longer unhappy.
More than that—
From here on, he would be happier than he’d ever been in any life before.
[End of Side Story]
