#66
There was a strange weight in Ersen’s playfully thrown tone. Though they both knew those words weren’t sincere, they couldn’t definitively say they weren’t sincere either. He was protecting himself by moving between the boundaries of sincerity and jest. It was the speech pattern of someone who knew too well that saying things jokingly hurt less.
“Oh my. Please don’t say such things.”
Skyle was still smiling, but that smile was more solid and heavy than before. Without even realizing it himself, a small emotion crept into his voice. His tone was polite, but the fragments of emotion seeping through couldn’t be carelessly dismissed.
Skyle stared at Ersen with a strange expression for a moment. The resignation and provocation unique to those who use themselves as tools of sacrifice.
He knew the implications of those words all too well. The resignation that it would be fine if he disappeared. The provocation of not wanting anyone to make an effort for him. It wasn’t irresponsible indifference, but a way of protecting those around him while consuming himself. The posture of someone who had been hurt too much, abandoned too often, and could no longer bear people’s care.
He could feel that it wasn’t something said while expecting anything.
That’s why his heart ached more. Perhaps he didn’t hope for any response at all, and just wanted to try saying it. While saying it would be fine if he disappeared, had he perhaps hoped someone would deny it? Skyle couldn’t bring himself to ask.
When the Prince acted like this, he behaved like someone with the word ‘resignation’ embedded in his soul.
Such an attitude carried a weight that no one could easily imitate. There were words and gazes that only those who had learned to use themselves as means, who had learned to calculate others’ goodwill, could possess. Ersen had clearly reached that level.
It didn’t matter, but he actually didn’t like that.
He didn’t know why.
That feeling had existed vaguely for a long time, but today it settled more strongly. Every time he smiled so calmly like a grave, one side of Skyle’s heart quietly stung. Emotions always approached like that, without explanation.
“I was putting effort into remembering your usefulness.”
Skyle threw the words like a joke, but his own sincerity was buried within them. Perhaps he wanted to say that you are still within someone’s concern.
The Prince burst into laughter.
That laugh was short and cheerful, but clear and transparent like a child recalling childhood. Perhaps for Skyle, that alone would have been sufficient reward.
“If that’s what it was, that’s a relief.”
Whether those words were sincere or not was unknowable. But that single sentence carried a breath of relief somewhere within it. At least in this moment, just the fact that he existed within someone’s thoughts would have allowed him to breathe a little easier.
Ha, as he let out a hollow laugh, the Prince flopped down spread-eagle on the bed. Then he kicked his feet lightly and mumbled.
It was an angle where the stone decorations on the ceiling could be seen diagonally. Crack marks on the ceiling came down like pale shadows, and light still flowed in through the window. The movement of his feet was slow and harmless, like a child before sleep.
“Actually, I just asked. Because I was bored.”
Was that said with deliberate indifference? It might have been words painted over to hide the real reason. Ersen often made himself ambiguous in such ways.
Watching those kicking feet, Skyle keenly discovered wounds all over his body.
Red marks brushed against his sleeve cuffs, bruises faintly remaining beyond his ankles, scars that almost but not quite reached his nape. No matter how much he hid them, the wounds that caught the eye were definitely saying something. Whether someone had deliberately made them, or whether he had left them on himself, couldn’t be determined yet.
Though he hadn’t said it outright to Ersen, those wounds were one of the reasons he had moved him here.
And above all, Skyle couldn’t let them be. It wasn’t just because of a sense of duty. If asked for a reason, he couldn’t explain it, but that’s just how it was.
‘Even though he’s only staying inside, wounds keep appearing.’
That wasn’t a simple accident. It was clearly intentional, or at least repetitive behavior. And that repetition kept touching Skyle’s patience.
It could be seen as self-inflicted wounds, or it could be seen that someone else’s hands had reached this deep.
Either way, the result was the same. There was blood, bruises, and torn flesh. He didn’t avoid pain, but rather accepted it. As if believing that was the most comfortable way.
And either way, it was clear that the Prince didn’t care about his own body being injured.
“Your Highness.”
In the gentle darkness filling the room, a quiet voice spread through the air. Skyle’s voice was calm and restrained as always, but the weight contained within it was not light. It contained vibrations of emotion that went beyond simple courtesy.
“Mm?”
Ersen lifted his hand that had been carelessly placed on the blanket and turned his head slightly. The response was short and showed no particular emotion, but his eyes cleared for a moment. Interest and wariness, familiar lethargy—all of these things flickered within.
“I’ve always wanted to say this. The way you keep throwing your body around isn’t very good.”
Skyle’s words were careful yet firm. He had tried to bring up these words several times before swallowing them, and could only now barely get them out. All the emotions he had been holding back were fully contained in that one sentence. Perhaps these words were closer to an earnest request rather than advice.
“I can do anything if it’s necessary though?”
Ersen blinked and simply replied matter-of-factly. It was a voice without a hint of hesitation. For him, too many things had already passed under the pretense of being ‘necessary,’ and in that process, throwing himself away had become natural long ago.
“I recommend that you reconsider three times whether it’s truly necessary action before moving.”
Skyle spoke as gently as possible, but those words settled down hard like stone. His tone was still polite, but the emotions within flowed out completely. Worry and regret, and even unknowable helplessness.
This was sincere.
He never considered his own judgment superior. However, he could no longer remain a bystander while watching the person before him consume himself to create endless battlefields.
Thinking about what kind of person the Prince was in terms of how he obtained what he wanted, even thinking about it just once more would make things much better.
He didn’t demand compensation, and often threw himself away while ignoring even that compensation. It was a method that was both strategic and simultaneously destructive. And the result was always blood and pain. Without even having time to confirm whether it was truly necessary sacrifice, he would advance to the next battlefield.
Prince Ersen slowly turned his seemingly bored gaze outside the window.
The sunlight was gradually slanting. A red aura spread gently, coloring the window, and the leaves outside the window swayed slowly. Ersen watched that flow silently for a while, then quietly opened his mouth.
“Whether it’s truly necessary action, you mean?”
His words were both repetitive and somehow empty. Like someone who had lost that standard too long ago. His pupils trembled finely, and the light from outside reflected in his eyes, shining transparently like ice.
The sunlight seeped into his gray eyes and shone like ice.
That gaze still contained a mixture of coldness and fatigue. However, within it, a very small vitality was rippling again, even if just slightly. That was definitely proof that the waves of what Skyle wanted to convey had reached him.
“Yeah. Since the Archduke is saying it, I’ll remember it.”
Though it was a short sentence, Skyle felt as if his breath stopped. That wasn’t agreement to one-sided advice, nor was it a perfunctory response. It was a weighty acceptance filled with sincerity.
“……”
Instead of answering, Skyle quietly closed his lips. Sometimes, silence left deeper resonance than any words. This moment was like that.
Moments like this.
Because of moments like this, he kept finding himself walking to this place.
If one thought he visited this room each time merely for justification, using reports as an excuse, in the name of duty that must be done, that would be a mistake. The truth was always more trivial, smaller, and more raw.
‘Because moments suddenly arise when I feel like I’ve learned something about this person.’
The fragmentary sincerity he showed, accidental gazes, moments of quiet acknowledgment. These accumulated and led him to this place. Because he couldn’t know completely, he wanted to know even a little more. Though it was painful that he couldn’t do anything other than watch, he still wanted to stay by his side.
Without thinking about what kind of feeling this gave him, he quietly inhaled and subtly changed the topic with a calm tone.
Now wasn’t the time to fall into emotions. Emotion was delay, and delay meant danger. Telling himself this, he calmly opened his mouth.
“……So, is this matter finished with this?”
His voice became lower than before, and by the time the sentence ended, there was slight tension. He wanted to confirm whether this had been simple exploration, or the prelude to something bigger.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
