Evernight’s shadow overlapped with Anya’s seated body. When the man’s hand suddenly reached out, Anya instinctively squeezed his eyes shut.
“Shh, stay still.”
Expecting to be hit for his sluggish behavior, Anya felt a tickling sensation around his chest instead of pain. The heavy wedding robe’s buttons were being undone one by one. Anya’s long eyelashes trembled as they lifted upward.
Ah…
Eyes as blue as ice swallowed Anya like an incoming tide. Somehow, he had the strong conviction that he would never forget this moment. His fragile hazelnut-colored eyes wavered helplessly against that fierce wave.
“Yes, stay still like that.”
The knight’s hands, which one might expect to be rough, were surprisingly long and beautiful. If not for the calluses touching his bare shoulders, one could never have imagined they belonged to a knight.
Evernight gripped Anya’s shoulders and applied pressure. The boy’s body shrank at the unfamiliar sensation of bare skin touching bare skin.
Having expected fierce resistance, Evernight was pleased by the more submissive attitude than anticipated. He gripped Anya’s shoulder blades and applied pressure. Anya’s body collapsed backward helplessly.
“E-Ever-night, sir?”
Only then did intense bewilderment cloud Anya’s face. His words were trembling terribly.
“Make your sounds as loud as possible.”
So that rat outside can hear properly.
“P-please, w-why are you d-doing this?”
The boy tried his best to remain calm, but it wasn’t easy. He kept repeating a mantra to himself.
‘I’m not going to die. I’m not going to die.’
“Anya. There’s a limit to acting innocent. Between you and me, it’s a useless act.”
Evernight wanted to quickly end this wretched relationship and rest. The long war had exhausted even this born warrior. Having practically lived in inns crawling with prostitutes and drunkards since he could barely walk, Evernight couldn’t understand those who pretended to be innocent like this. Maybe if Anya were a woman, but despite being young, he was still a man.
Evernight spoke with an increasingly tired expression.
“Position.”
Even while crying, Anya applied strength to his arms at the man’s forceful command. His arms were trembling pitifully. He wanted to bury his face in the bed sheets and burst into tears right there.
Terrified, Anya didn’t even know what words he was uttering. He was simply desperately pleading with the man.
As time passed… his body wouldn’t respond, like a water-soaked cotton. His vision kept narrowing. As his consciousness began to blur, Anya felt as if Evernight was touching his back.
“…fuck, damn it.”
Since he was always flogged while lying face down whenever he upset his brother, his back might be hideously scarred. Evernight was probably looking down at him with contempt, his brows furrowed.
It was heartbreaking. He wanted to forget everything. Anya finally couldn’t endure anymore and lost consciousness while lying face down on the bed.
* * *
Anya opened his eyes to the sound of knocking. His brown eyelashes, tangled with tears, trembled. Having always woken to a bluish dawn since arriving here, Anya’s mind went blank momentarily at the streaming sunlight. Before he could assess the situation, the knock sounded once more.
“J-just a… moment.”
His voice came out terribly cracked. It didn’t sound like his own. His hand, reaching to touch his Adam’s apple, hesitated in midair. As the blanket covering him slipped down, a chill ran through his entire body. He was completely naked.
His waist hurt, and he felt an uncomfortable sensation in his muscles.
“Imperial Prince.”
A maid’s respectful voice was heard from outside the door. Anya hurriedly wrapped the sheet tightly around his body. He was so disoriented that he couldn’t even see the clothes discarded on the floor.
The space beside him was empty. Though he had lost consciousness during the act, Anya clearly knew that Evernight had not slept next to him. He had probably just left after Anya fainted. He must have found it pathetic.
“I’ve brought water for bathing.”
Two maids came carrying a large wooden bath tub. They didn’t blink an eye at the mistress’s terrible appearance. Even after spending the night with Evernight, nothing had changed. Somehow… only the loneliness had grown deeper.
“I-it’s fine. I-I’ll do it m-myself.”
Embarrassed to show his body, Anya sent the maids away. They politely bowed before withdrawing. As he immersed himself in the scalding hot water, all the muscles in his body screamed in protest. Anya groaned as he wiped away what was on his body. There were reddish handprints around his pelvis and thighs. For some reason, he recalled a passage he had read in a book.
<The lords would sometimes inflict cruel punishments on runaway serfs. Namely, leaving a mark of shame that would never fade for life by branding them with a hot iron.>
Anya’s legs curled up weakly.
When most people think of Anya Claicer, they recall his large hazelnut eyes. Each time they tormented him, those eyes would fill with tears, stimulating their sadism. But they didn’t know. Anya rarely cried. Because crying solved nothing.
* * *
“F-fare-well.”
At midday, with the sun high in the sky. In front of the gates of Tildyen stood a cart loaded with baggage, a luxurious carriage emblazoned with a two-headed black bird, several imperial palace guards, and the court eunuch. Before them, Anya clasped his hands together and bid them farewell. His muscles were so tense from the previous night’s encounter that his body was stiff. His movements were awkward as he descended each step, and his small shoes moved particularly slowly.
“Are you feeling well?”
The court eunuch recalled the scream-like sounds from the bedroom the previous night. Those suppressed sobs were enough to inspire pity for the young man standing before him. Although he was standing rigidly like a wooden stick, he had a gloomy face that looked as if he might collapse at any moment.
“The consummation has been confirmed. I will now return to report to the Emperor.”
As he boarded the carriage, the sound of the guards’ horns escaped through the misty, foggy air. It was the signal for departure. Soon, with the powerful sound of hooves, the snow piled on the ground rose up and then settled down again. Anya and the servants of Tildyen stood in line behind him until the carriage became a mere dot in the distance. It was like viewing a gloomy and depressing portrait. The court eunuch quietly calculated.
‘The new Duke of Tildyen will soon take another wife. In a year? That should be enough time.’
His calculations would likely circulate as low-quality gossip in the capital’s social clubs, a morsel of amusement for the nobles. Though they all pretended to be proper, they were intensely curious about the first Duke of Tildyen.
The court eunuch hummed a tune as he leaned against the carriage wall. His mouth was already itching to talk about what he had seen and heard at Tildyen.
‘Take this back.’
The previous night, Evernight, emerging from the bedroom, had carelessly thrown a torn piece of cloth at the eunuch’s face. The cold-faced, arrogant man stood leaning against the wall in disheveled attire. The source of that languid state was all too clear. The court eunuch cleared his throat unnecessarily as he looked down at the blood-stained cloth.
‘Are you certain?’
To the question uttered for lack of anything better to say, Evernight sent a cold glare.
‘If your ears aren’t blocked, you should have heard it. I don’t want to do that again, so check it with that precious magical artifact of yours.’
It was quite amusing to see those barbaric, excessively prideful Northerners serving an imperial family member like they were forced to eat mustard while crying. Seeing this, even the central nobles wouldn’t object to Evernight receiving the title of Duke. It was no different from a scarecrow title, after all.
The eunuch wasn’t kind enough to pray for the well-being of Tildyen’s mistress. He simply departed on a pleasant journey toward the capital, feeling unburdened by having completed his task.
“Master. Will you go to the dining hall for a meal?”
The carriage had now completely disappeared into a dot. Tildyen’s winter brought heavy snow. It had been calm for a while, but sleet was falling again. At Gregos’s question, Anya slightly shook his head. He didn’t want to face Evernight. The man’s blue eyes provoked fear and heavy guilt. Just like at the imperial palace, the boy chose isolation, taking a small bedroom as his separate quarters.
The boy reminded himself once more that he had two choices.
‘Either stay quietly confined or choose to die like a dog.’
Anya looked up at the massive Beriela wall surrounding Tildyen Rock and continuously impressed this fact upon himself. A desolate feeling flowed through him.
A terrible winter was approaching.
