* * *
As he got older, the immature feelings of his youth had naturally faded.
And since Vivisian was no longer part of the Teian family, there was no need to feel inferior to him anymore.
That sense of ease made sense.
That was why he’d let him live.
But if things continued like this, it could become troublesome.
With a flick, the curtains were drawn, plunging the room into darkness.
Letiyan walked across the dim office and sat in his chair.
Resting his arms on the armrests, he tapped his fingers against them, lost in thought.
He’d heard the prince had taken quite a liking to Vivisian.
Affection from those in power rarely lasted, but if it wasn’t just a passing fancy, killing him now could bring serious backlash.
“Tch. This is such a damn mess. Of all places, why’d he have to end up in Merien…”
Knowing Vivisian, he likely hadn’t told anyone about what had happened to him.
But people change—Letiyan couldn’t be sure.
With a long sigh, he habitually poured himself a glass of rum.
He pulled painkillers from his inner coat and washed them down with the drink.
Just as the headache and ringing began to subside, a knock came at the door.
A man with neatly slicked-back blond hair entered.
“Count De Winter. What is it?”
“What do you think? I came because there’s something I need to ask you. And I’m pretty sure I told you before—drinking from the morning isn’t a good habit.”
“Ah, this time you’ll have to cut me some slack. I’ve had a bit of a headache.”
“A headache?”
“Nothing for you to worry about.”
Letiyan’s tone was final as he set down his glass, clearly indicating the count should get to the point.
Glancing at the large bottle of rum, Haen spoke up obediently.
Since the Duke didn’t attend meetings, Haen had no choice but to report the latest matters in person.
Not that it was unusual—the previous Duke rarely attended meetings either.
More importantly, Haen was the one who had personally pulled down Letiyan’s biggest rival and lifted him to his current position.
In that sense, criticizing the Duke would be like discrediting his own past decisions.
Suppressing the flicker of resentment he felt toward Letiyan, Haen finished his report.
Barely waiting for him to finish, Letiyan took another sip and muttered vague responses.
They were all mediocre answers at best—responses that favored the nobles over the common citizens under his care.
Haen watched him quietly for a moment, then gave a slight bow to indicate he would take his leave.
But just as he turned, Letiyan asked impulsively,
“Could I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“If there was something… something that gave you a headache whether you did it or didn’t do it… what would you choose? Would you move forward with it? Or just pretend you didn’t know?”
“What kind of matter are we talking about?”
Haen calmly asked, saying it would depend on the nature of the issue.
Letiyan stared at the reddish liquid in his glass with a murky gaze before lifting his head.
In his deep blue eyes—eyes that stirred memories of the past—there shimmered a dangerous impulse.
The words that slipped from Letiyan’s mouth were dark, almost violent.
“…Something to do with my sins. Yes, a matter of… past sins.”
Haen’s eyes twisted at the unexpected words.
A past sin, he said.
This wasn’t going to be something that could be resolved easily.
Haen steadied his expression as he tried to guess what kind of sins Letiyan might’ve committed.
At worst, maybe an illegitimate child or a messy affair.
At worst—no, possibly even worse—he did have a surprisingly violent side, so it could involve someone’s life.
Haen had already expected it to be serious, but still, he silently hoped it would turn out to be something small as he asked in a subdued voice:
“Did you kill someone?”
“My, what an unexpected question. Not yet. But not yet, you see—it’s close. What I meant by ‘something’… it’s about getting rid of someone who knows my sin.”
Letiyan answered in a voice that was almost disturbingly cheerful.
And Haen remained silent for a very long time before finally beginning, slowly:
“If it’s about getting rid of the root or origin of that transgression…”
“……”
“Then of course you must get rid of it. You can’t leave something like that be. It’ll only grow worse. Erase it, and become flawless.”
“Erase it, and become flawless…”
Perhaps it was the answer Letiyan had most wanted to hear.
He stood still beside Haen, mulling over the words for a long while, then gave a small wave of his hand.
“Thank you. That was very helpful. You may go now—I’ve kept a busy man for too long.”
At the dismissal, Haen quietly left the office.
Letiyan, now alone in the spacious room, downed three more glasses of rum in succession and sank back into the sofa with a flushed face.
Had he drunk too much?
He suddenly remembered the man who’d always looked at him with pale, silent eyes whenever he visited the prison.
‘Letiyan.’
That cracked, broken voice calmly speaking his name echoed in his head.
“Vivisian.”
‘Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do that was so wrong?’
“You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just that I… I knew. I knew I’d never beat you. Not in this life. So I cheated. The loser doesn’t get to say anything. Just like how you couldn’t say anything.”
Letiyan murmured drunkenly, his speech slightly slurred.
He pressed his cold palm against his heated face, pushing into his eyes.
Then, rubbing out the faint crease between his brows, he gave a soft, almost childlike laugh.
“And dead men don’t talk either…”
He closed his eyes, overlaying the memory of those cool eyes quietly staring at him beneath long black hair.
Letiyan leaned his head back against the sofa.
“Still, my little brother… dying might not be the worst thing for you. You haven’t committed a single sin, so you’ll surely go to heaven. There won’t be anyone there who hated you. You’ll be at peace in death.”
You won’t get to see our parents again, though.
He murmured the words briefly before closing his eyes.
He mourned his little brother’s future—the one he himself had decided—sincerely.
✽ ✽ ✽
Vivisian was dreaming.
[Dolor, my child…]
A god appeared in that unwelcome dream, calling out to him with a voice endlessly tender and sorrowful.
Standing alone in the middle of a blindingly white temple, Vivisian opened his mouth to respond.
But before he could, he awoke—to the god’s final words.
[My sorrow. In the end, you failed to protect your own life.]
And along with them came a pain that crushed his chest. Is death something one could ever predict?
Even though he knew that unchanging truth better than anyone, he still got lost in a moment of happiness and forgot.
Even if Hesia hadn’t been there, crying and clinging to him—even if the doctors hadn’t been shouting for him to stay conscious… no, even if it weren’t for the pain in his chest, Vivisian would’ve known.
He was dying.
And it wasn’t as sudden as people often imagined.
It felt like walking slowly—very slowly—toward death.
Like how melting snow leaves behind muddy earth.
Like how flowers bloom where people die.
Like how some things, once broken, can never go back.
“Yan, please stay with me… I’ll listen to whatever you say, just open your eyes. Please look at me, okay? Try something, anything! And you call yourselves doctors?! Fuck, I ought to fire all of you—”
“…Don’t curse, kitty…”
“Yan!”
“Yes, Hesia…”
Vivisian turned his gaze toward the voice calling to him through tears—as if he might close his eyes forever at any moment.
The tenderness of that gaze made Hesia feel like his throat was closing up.
There was no point in saying anything now, but the time had come to finally share a secret he had planned to carry to the grave.
There are no secrets that last forever.
With a lonely look on his face, Hesia began to speak, slowly.
“Yan… no, Vivi, do you remember a kid named ‘Sia’?”
Standing at the edge of farewell, Hesia didn’t have the luxury to hesitate.
He instinctively understood there would be no next time.
So he laid everything bare.
As Sia—his voice trembling—spoke as gently as he could, Vivisian’s eyes widened.
It was the kind of reaction that said he remembered.
And at the same time, he finally realized who Hesia really was.
“So this is what you looked like. I’d never seen your face before… I just assumed you were doing fine.”
“The kid who liked you… grew up like this.”
“You’ve grown up so well.”
Vivi smiled faintly as he answered in a casual tone, almost like a whine.
At the edge of death, there was nothing he couldn’t accept.
He stared at Sia’s face, familiar yet suddenly feeling distant, like he was seeing it for the first time—until something dawned on him and he paused.
“Then, Hesia… Sia, you… you mean…”
“It wasn’t a passing crush. It wasn’t something fleeting, Vivi. It was like being lost and finally finding the right path.”
‘You are my only right answer.’
At the moment of farewell, Sia whispered everything he had never said, and rested his cheek in Vivi’s palm.
“Long ago… I wanted to do this. I wanted to lean my head in your hand and whine a little. And now, I finally get to do it.”
It was an incredibly sweet confession, but Sia’s voice trembled pitifully with each word.
seeking salvation in Vivi’s hand, Sia pressed his chilled forehead into it.
“I’ve loved you for such a long time. So much. I really do. Of course you couldn’t have known. Of course you thought it was just a passing thing. I get it. I never said anything. You didn’t know because I didn’t tell you. That’s only natural, Vivi… so please, don’t be too sorry.”
Not wanting to burden Vivi any further, Sia said he would now let go—willingly—of the person he could never keep.
* * *
