* * *
“Hah, fine. If that’s how it is, I’ll try sending him somewhere safer. Breaking him out of prison and taking him to the duchy would be too risky, but I think I can manage relocating him elsewhere.”
There was no need to tell the child, so I didn’t.
But the truth was, Vivisian had endured a brutal imprisonment, even by a criminal’s standards.
From what I’d heard, Letiyan had tortured him consistently.
Even now, he was barely clinging to life.
Given these circumstances, unless the duchy officially took him in, it would be difficult for Letiyan to bring the matter into the public eye.
Besides, it had been so long since Vivisian had committed his alleged crime that most people had already forgotten about him.
As long as he stayed out of sight, everyone would simply assume he had died in prison.
Mujin finished his calculations and turned to the child, who was still looking gloomy. He forced a warm smile to comfort him.
“Of course, he’ll have to promise to live quietly. But I’ll make sure to keep an eye on him, so it’ll still be a much better life than prison. And, honestly, if it weren’t for you, he would never have had such an opportunity.”
Mujin looked at Sia, waiting for a response.
Sia, who had been quietly watching him with his clear, deep brown eyes, hesitated for a moment before answering.
“I… I want Vivi to go somewhere safe. But I want to ask him first. He might not want this. No one wants to be locked up, but that doesn’t mean we can just decide his fate for him. That wouldn’t be right.”
“You’re very thoughtful.”
“Oh, uh… I guess?”
The woman murmured in admiration, but Sia didn’t bother correcting her.
Rather than being particularly thoughtful, he simply… liked Vivi—Vivisian.
Besides, calling him a criminal… That didn’t sit right with him.
From what Sia had seen, Vivisian was nothing like a criminal.
Even knowing Sia came from the lowest social class, he had been kind, never speaking to him carelessly or with disdain.
He was more noble than anyone Sia had ever met—gentle, refined.
Something felt off.
Maybe it was just a childish notion.
Or maybe, being untainted, he saw something others had overlooked.
Everyone who knew the truth had chosen silence, making it nearly impossible to uncover Vivisian’s past.
Sia lifted his head, deep in thought. Mujin, having a hunch about what he was about to say, tensed slightly.
The sight of an adult growing so anxious over a mere child’s words amused Sia, and he let out a small, thoughtless laugh before finally speaking.
“Once Vivi is somewhere safe, I’ll go to the duchy too.”
A child worrying so much over an imprisoned adult—he had never heard of such a thing before.
Was Vivisian truly worth that much?
Mujin posed the question to himself but found he had no answer.
‘Well, whatever the case, it’s good that he’s heading to the duchy.’
This was all temporary anyway.
Vivisian, who had endured years of torture and humiliation, would undoubtedly choose freedom.
And once he left, he and Sia would never meet again.
Sia, as the sole heir, would be too busy with his responsibilities to remember a passing figure.
It was only because Vivisian was the first kind soul Sia had met in that wretched place that he seemed so significant.
Eventually, he would forget.
Just as people forget the songs they once sang every day, just as they forget the names of characters in books they’ve read to tatters, just as even a love so deep it makes one wish for death fades with time—Sia, too, would forget Vivisian.
Just as his rebellious friend’s child, despite their nature, would be no different.
Or so Mujin thought.
He had no way of knowing that Sia would carry this feeling for the rest of his life.
Unlike the others, Sia had already accepted this fate.
He knew.
He knew that he would never truly move on, that no matter whom he met, he would forever be chasing the warmth of the past, always thirsty for something just out of reach—a near-curse of an oracle, one he embraced without resistance.
Long ago, people navigated by the stars, using them to find their way home.
Sia had spent so long wandering in the dark after losing his family.
Now, he had finally found his guiding star.
And just like those ancient travelers who named their stars and held them in memory, Sia entrusted his future to the man who had become his north.
Vivisian.
He turned the name over in his mouth, rolling it on his tongue just as he had done countless times before.
And in that quiet murmur, Sia tasted something sweet.
The taste of a first love that could never be forgotten.
✽ ✽ ✽
In the dead of night, the sound of heels echoed through the damp, oppressive prison.
Vivisian, who had been barely clinging to consciousness, slowly opened his eyes at the sharp clicks.
He stared blankly at the iron bars for a few minutes, his vision still hazy.
Then, beyond them, a woman in an extravagant dress—utterly out of place in such a wretched hole—came into view.
A sigh escaped him.
He had no idea what Letiyan was scheming this time.
“…Who are you?”
His voice cracked and rasped as he forced the words out.
The woman standing beyond the bars—Mujin—collected herself before responding.
“I’m here at Sia’s request.”
“Sia…? That child asked you to come?”
“Yes. He wants you taken out of here and sent somewhere safe.”
There was a faint trace of sympathy in her voice.
But Vivisian paid no mind to that—what caught his attention was the word request.
Sia was a slave. He had little he could offer in return.
Did that mean the child had paid a price for this?
A twinge of concern flitted across his features as he slowly pulled himself upright.
“If it was a request… what did he give you in exchange?”
Even before considering his own fate, his first concern was Sia.
There was no deceit in his tone, and Mujin found herself unexpectedly admitting that he truly was a good person to the boy.
Perhaps… even more than herself.
It was an absurd thought—one that others would surely scoff at—but Mujin responded plainly.
“This is good for Sia as well. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Say it clearly.”
“You won’t be harmed, so there’s no reason for you to know.”
“If it’s not something Siady, there’s no reason to hide it either. Why won’t you tell me?”
“And if it was something Sia had to give up for me, shouldn’t I at least know?”
Vivisian let out a dry, humorless chuckle.
It wasn’t amusement—his voice carried a simmering frustration.
His cobalt-blue eyes, bright even in the dim candlelight, locked onto Mujin with unwavering focus.
The slit-like pupils glinted like blades, reflecting the flickering flame in her hand.
Even in the weak light, it was clear—he was gaunt, his body wasted from imprisonment and suffering.
But his gaze was still fiercely alive.
And in that moment, Mujin understood.
She understood why Letiyan had relentlessly tried to break him.
Even as a prisoner, Vivisian was regal.
Even now, in this desolate darkness, he was more of a duke than Letiyan could ever be.
And Letiyan—terrified of that fact—had buried him here.
A man left to rot in the Shadows, wiped from the world’s memory.
“…I intend to help Sia reclaim the status he lost. Of course, it’s also what he wants.”
Mujin deliberately left out the part about doing it for Vivisian’s sake.
Vivisian, who had remained silent for a moment, lifted the hand that had been resting limply on the bed.
His long fingers were marred with countless wounds.
With his bruised fingertips, he traced the long scar on his neck and murmured,
“Lost… status?”
“I can’t tell you exactly what that lost status is.”
Mujin shut his mouth, thinking he had already said enough.
Realizing that pressing further wouldn’t yield any more answers, Vivisian didn’t ask again.
A quiet silence spread between them.
The candle Mujin held flickered intermittently as a draft seeped through the cracks of the prison’s stone walls.
“The fact that you’re not forcing me into anything means that while Sia did ask you for help, he isn’t in a position of powerlessness.”
At those sharp words, Mujin’s eyes trembled slightly.
Though Vivisian couldn’t see her reaction, the silence that followed was answer enough.
He let out a wry, conflicted laugh.
“I see… Well, that’s good. And from the looks of it, helping Sia isn’t a lie either.”
The weary man mumbled to himself, his voice cracking at the edges.
Despite enduring long hardships in prison, his beautiful face was shadowed by deep exhaustion.
That shadow was cast by his concern for Sia.
“If I choose to leave this prison, it won’t put any more burden on the child, will it?”
“On the contrary, it would be troublesome if you stayed. Right now, he’s too young to figure out whether I keep my promises or not. But if he ever finds out I broke one, there’ll be hell to pay. Trust is a very important thing, after all.”
“But if there’s even a chance that my release could cause Sia problems in the future, maybe it’s better for me to stay in prison. People tend to forget those they met as children, anyway.”
Though he pronounced Sia’s name with a surprising gentleness, his tone was firm, as if convinced he was destined to be forgotten.
* * *
