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Translator: Change name Yen to Ian
“You can look back now, Young Master.”
At those words, Hesia obediently turned his head.
And the first thing that caught his eyes wasn’t anything else but—
“Why are you looking at me like that? Ah, is it because I’m not wearing my mask? The bloodstains wouldn’t come out, so I decided to just wear a turban for a while. Do I look strange without it?”
It was a face he had only managed to imagine in dreams, based on paintings drawn by others.
He had worried—what if they met and he couldn’t recognize him?
But that concern had been entirely unnecessary.
There was no way he could not recognize him.
The pale skin, the eyes so slender they unsettled the viewer—there was something about them that kept drawing his gaze.
The cobalt-blue irises, more vivid than anything even Hesia, who had been surrounded by all things precious, had ever seen, had vertically elongated pupils.
His hair was the purest black, like the night sky untouched by even a single impurity.
The man, unchanged from the image that had once been painted onto a canvas from someone’s memory, smiled faintly.
‘There’s a saying that the House of Duke Teian is beloved by the gods.’
It was a phrase he had come across while researching, hoping to learn more about Ian.
And now, upon seeing him in person, Hesia truly understood those words.
Vivisian was living proof that humanity was still cherished by the divine—from his face, undoubtedly crafted by the gods, to his very presence.
“Why? Am I too pretty?”
Vivisian asked teasingly, scrunching his eyes just a little.
The momentary crease in his gaze was so endearing that Hesia, as if entranced, answered without thinking.
“Yeah… too pretty…”
Are you really Vivisian?
He wanted to ask, but he swallowed the words, knowing he couldn’t possibly say them aloud.
All that escaped was a dumbfounded murmur.
Unaware of Hesia’s inner turmoil, the man simply smiled.
A breathtakingly beautiful smile.
✽ ✽ ✽
As time passed, Hesia finally regained some composure and shifted his gaze from the empty air he had been staring at.
Ian, standing beside him with his arms crossed, naturally met his eyes.
Though only his eyes were visible beneath the turban, knowing what face was hidden behind the white cloth made Hesia’s heart race uncontrollably.
Locking eyes with him, Hesia mumbled.
“But… is it really okay for you to show me your face? I mean, not that I’d go around telling people what you look like, and I have no reason to… but if you go as far as using a fake name, there must be a reason to keep it hidden. …Don’t tell me you trust me that much?”
His words carried a faint hope that he would.
But Ian, who saw no reason to overthink the question, simply answered as he saw it.
“I only covered my face just in case, but it’s not really a big deal if people see me. There aren’t many who would recognize me anyway. More importantly, Young Master, you’re from the Grand Merien Principality, right?”
“How did you know?”
“I could tell from your accent. And… I thought it through before showing you, so don’t be too concerned.”
Well, it was highly unlikely that Ian had revealed his face without any thought at all.
Of course, Hesia was completely unaware of just how much he already trusted him.
“Wait a minute. So that doesn’t mean you trust me? How could you! We’ve spent days together—shouldn’t that be enough time to build some trust?”
“Ah.”
“Ah? That’s it? I mean, I actually trust you… a lot, to be honest. And all you have to say is ‘ah’? I’m your client, you know—you could at least pretend to trust me out of politeness.”
Ian didn’t quite understand how being a client was connected to needing to hear words of trust.
But, much like handing candy to a sulking child, he said, “I trust you.”
Hesia seemed satisfied with that and quickly settled down.
Watching this ridiculous yet oddly endearing sight, Ian shook his head with a quiet chuckle.
Then, as if realizing he had been pouting too much, Hesia took a moment of silent repentance before suddenly asking,
“Would you consider coming with me?”
“Where exactly do you mean by ‘coming with you’? Do you want to stay in the desert longer?”
“No. Not that… I want to hire you personally. Like a personal knight, you know? You get what I mean, right?”
“Ah, I see. So, you like me that much?”
Hesia flinched at the playful remark, reacting more strongly than expected.
Before Ian could even ask about it, Hesia hurriedly explained, flustered.
“I-I was just saying! Being with you is… fun, and you’re kind, and you treat me well, so I just thought… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stick together.”
“That sounds like a good thing. And for something you’re saying ‘just because,’ this is already the second time you’ve asked.”
Hesia couldn’t exactly deny that, so he clamped his mouth shut.
Ian, watching him chew on his lip with a gentle gaze, eventually let out a laugh, as if he truly couldn’t help but be amused.
“Alright. Sorry, Young Master. I won’t tease you anymore, so stop biting your lip—you’ll hurt yourself.”
Ian tapped Hesia’s lip lightly with the back of his hand.
That fleeting touch alone made Hesia’s shoulders flinch.
His lips had barely been brushed by a cool hand, but for some reason, they felt as if they had lost all warmth.
Rubbing them with his tongue as if to chase away the lingering chill, he muttered without thinking.
“Are you always… like this with people? Joking around like this with someone you’ve barely met? Calling them so sweetly, speaking so gently, like you’re soothing a child… Is this just how you are?”
His voice carried a hint of something raw, something vulnerable.
Ian tilted his head, as if reflecting on his own actions.
His brilliant blue eyes rolled thoughtfully before he finally answered, still uncertain.
“…Was I that kind?”
He seemed genuinely unsure.
His gaze wandered, then landed on Hesia, who instinctively tensed under his stare.
Seeing that reaction, Ian chuckled.
His laugh was unguarded, rich—something that lingered in the ears, refusing to fade.
As Hesia unconsciously lifted a hand to rub his ears, feeling overwhelmed, Ian shrugged.
“That’s strange. I’m not a good person.”
He had been willing to let anything else slide, but those words were too absurd to ignore.
Though his expression was hidden by his robe, Hesia’s eyes must have burned fiercely because his voice came out in an indignant shout.
“If you’re not a good person, then this world is full of nothing but trash!”
“Ah, you startled me. Why are you yelling?”
“I wasn’t yelling. …Sorry if it sounded like I was. But you’re talking nonsense! Ian, you are a good person. A really good person. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
It was an absolute belief—so unwavering it was almost baffling.
Ian was momentarily speechless at the sheer conviction in Hesia’s voice.
Seeing the slight crease in his expression, Hesia swallowed dryly and added,
“It’s true. I don’t lie to you.”
The words were too sweet to be spoken just to sound nice.
Ian mulled them over briefly before lowering his head with a quiet chuckle.
The white fabric of his turban fluttered slightly with the movement.
Hesia found himself wanting to savor every bit of that smile, as if he could lap it up and keep it in his mouth.
Suppressing a desire he could never voice, he watched as Ian, sitting with his knees drawn up, suddenly said,
“I guess… I must like you too, Young Master.”
“…Me?”
“Yeah, I mean you, Young Master.”
If it weren’t for that, there’d be no reason for him to act so kindly—his words came with a faint smile, his piercing blue eyes narrowing slightly beneath his turban.
Hesia thought they looked just like a crescent moon floating in the midnight sky.
Was it because the man had spoken such unbelievably sweet words?
Hesia suddenly felt a creeping fear—what if all of this was just a dream?
He knew it was a ridiculous concern, yet he couldn’t help but worry.
After all, he had dreamed of ‘Vivisian’ countless times before, and he had imagined, more than once, the moment when that man would smile at him.
“…You like me?”
He asked, struggling to suppress the tremor in his voice.
The answer came with a pleasant chuckle.
“Hmm, well… I don’t dislike you, at least.”
At those words, Hesia snapped his head toward him, his lips parting in silent protest.
But as soon as his gaze met those cobalt-blue eyes, looking at him so tenderly, he found himself unable to say anything.
It wasn’t quite affection, but there was unmistakable warmth in those eyes.
Had ‘Vivi’ looked at him like that back then?
‘Vivi, do you remember Sia? That young, pitiful slave boy who adored you?’
Just as his own past had been full of misfortune, he knew that Vivisian’s had been no different.
That knowledge kept the question trapped in his throat, unable to be spoken aloud.
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