Chapter 72

“Haven’t I already died several times over?” Isaac forced the words through his constricted throat. He was dying even now; without the cats licking the wound closed, he would have been completely incapacitated.

Kaiyan scrutinized him for a heartbeat before his grip loosened. His fingers traced a slow path upward, coming to rest against Isaac’s lips. Isaac flinched, snapping his mouth shut at the icy contact.

Displeased by the resistance, Kaiyan forced his fingers between Isaac’s teeth. Two digits pressed into his mouth, probing his tongue with a deliberate, rhythmic pressure that felt like a caress—or a cold inspection of the flesh’s texture.

It was an alien, violating sensation, like something predatory crawling into his mouth. Then came the prince’s low, deadly whisper. “You would do well to guard your tongue.”

A wet, grinding pressure crushed the soft, delicate flesh. Kaiyan had only pinned Isaac’s tongue between two fingers, but the monstrous strength behind them threatened to pulp the muscle. A groan tore from Isaac’s throat as he swiped the prince’s hand away.

Kaiyan withdrew, offering no resistance. Isaac could not even close his mouth now; his tongue burned, already slipping into a deep, agonizing numbness that made him fear he might never speak properly again. He stared up at the prince.

Kaiyan stepped back, his expression unreadable. “You seem to believe you have some form of protection, and so you let that tongue wag however it pleases. Do not forget this: I may be keeping you alive for now, but so long as you remain a witch, death can come for you at any time.”

It was no empty threat; it was a warning stripped down to its bare, brutal truth. Isaac had always understood this, yet the words carved themselves into his chest like a chisel, intensified by the faint, palpable hatred Kaiyan carried for the mere concept of a witch.

A crushing disappointment settled into his marrow. He did not understand why that disappointment stung so sharply, nor why a melancholy weight dragged at his shoulders. Kaiyan turned away as though the conversation were concluded.

“Even if I lose the use of my tongue… I will still speak when something must be said,” Isaac murmured after him.

His crushed tongue barely allowed the words to form. They emerged slurred, thick, and indistinct, hanging in the air like a pained, guttural groan. Perhaps Kaiyan had not heard them at all. The prince had seemed to pause for the briefest of instants, yet he never turned around. Isaac merely closed his mouth in dejection.

That had occurred only yesterday. At first, he had been able to speak with reasonable clarity, but his tongue had swollen further with every passing hour. Now, even simple words emerged distorted, and the act of putting anything into his mouth caused such intense pain that he had eaten almost nothing all day. Even so, the sharp, metallic taste of blood that refused to leave his mouth was only the first reason he felt no envy toward the delicacies spread across the royal table. The second was the suffocating, frigid atmosphere of the banquet hall.

Everyone watched Prince Kaiyan with predatory caution whenever he shared a room with them, a presence that nearly always produced a strained, heavy unease. Today, however, the tension felt particularly severe, most likely because Iliyan had visited the prince just the day before.

Everyone seemed to harbor a secret, gnawing fear that the second prince had stirred up some volatile trouble where none had previously existed. Had his visit angered Kaiyan unnecessarily? Was the prince in a particularly foul temper today? Such anxieties hovered unspoken throughout the hall like a suffocating shroud.

Even before the meal began, the queen had looked pale and visibly unwell, unable to meet Kaiyan’s eyes. Whenever he addressed her, she looked away, answering only in brief, quiet phrases. She had always harbored a deep, instinctive fear of Prince Kaiyan. Though she had given birth to him herself, she treated the other princes and princesses with warmth and tenderness, while approaching Kaiyan as though he were something sacred—or perhaps something deeply ominous.

The king differed only in that he managed to conceal that same fear with greater success. After the inhuman, visceral horror that had touched Blue Shadow Palace, their shared dread had only deepened. Therefore, when Kaiyan suddenly reached toward the queen and she recoiled so sharply that she dropped her spoon, her panicked reaction was hardly a surprise.

Yet the clatter of the fallen spoon seemed to shatter the fragile pretense covering the table. The truth everyone had worked so hard to bury now stood naked in the deathly silence. Though they had spoken and behaved as though everything were perfectly normal, every one of them feared and consciously avoided the same person.

Kaiyan.

The queen’s already pale complexion turned stark white. She stole a glance at the prince, then quickly lowered her eyes, appearing like a sinner fearing divine punishment. It was a harrowing sight—certainly not the look of a mother gazing upon her son.

No one dared to speak to her. No one spoke to Kaiyan, either. There was no gentle reproach, no attempt to smooth matters over, no rebuke, and no offer of comfort. Everyone merely watched the prince’s reaction, as if they silently agreed with the queen’s instinctive fear. It felt as though the entire family stood together on one side of an invisible divide, while Kaiyan stood utterly alone on the other.

The prince paused with his hand still outstretched, regarding the queen for a single, heavy moment. Then, with complete indifference, he picked up the saltcellar in front of her, sprinkled a little over his food, and resumed eating as though nothing had transpired.

“Ha… perhaps the food is a little underseasoned today.”

“Bring Her Majesty another spoon at once.”

“And a blanket for her knees. She must be cold. Her complexion… Well, the weather has turned chilly so suddenly. The mornings and evenings have become rather cold.”

One person after another hurried to offer some harmless remark, and the silence gradually loosened, albeit awkwardly and unnaturally. The sense of estrangement that had sprung into being, however, already ruled the table. He and they occupied the same room, yet they existed in entirely different worlds.

The division stood so plainly before Isaac that…

“Isaac? Does it hurt badly?”

Only when Selvero whispered beside him did Isaac realize he had been clenching his jaw. The delayed throb in his tongue struck him with full force. He grimaced, lifting a hand to his mouth. He already knew. Nothing about this was new. Everyone feared Kaiyan. Everyone. And now, they seemed to fear him more than ever.

“You seem to get hurt constantly ever since you started working at Blue Shadow Palace. You were unconscious until the other day, too…” Selvero looked at him with open concern, then lowered his voice. “Listen. I know working at the royal palace means steady employment and high pay, but what good is that if it keeps putting your life in danger? You really should consider leaving the guard.”

Isaac shook his head, his voice strained. “Cad’t quit.”

“What do you mean, you can’t? If you decide to resign, then you simply resign.” Selvero did not understand.

Now that even Isaac’s bloodline had been exposed, there was no possibility of escaping the prince’s service. Had escape truly been possible, he would already have…

Would I have truly resigned? Would I have walked away and left that man sitting alone among a crowd of people? Would I have kept my distance from Kaiyan, who remained solitary even among those who should have been closest to him?

Probably not. The moment Isaac reached that conclusion, another question rose with it. Why? Several possible answers followed: sympathy, concern, pity. Yet none of them fit. They resembled the truth from certain angles, perhaps, but they were not it. Isaac could almost grasp the feeling, though he could not bring it into focus.

One thing alone seemed certain: whatever the reason, Isaac did not think he would ever choose to leave Kaiyan’s side of his own free will.

“The weather has grown rather cool.”

Kaiyan spoke abruptly when the meal was nearly finished. Because he rarely joined the conversation, even that trivial remark silenced everyone at once.

“Well, summer has nearly passed, after all.” The king cleared his throat. “If you wish it, I can instruct the court magicians to keep warm air circulating through Blue Shadow Palace.”

Kaiyan had been looking out the window. Only after a moment did he turn his gaze toward the king. “I am considering spending some time at the palace in Haylen. Will you grant me permission?”

The silence that followed was brief but deep. Haylen Palace. The retreat lay southwest of the capital, a full day’s hard ride away. Its geography kept the region mild throughout all four seasons, and members of the royal family commonly went there to escape the biting cold. The weather had not yet grown severe enough to justify such a journey, yet Kaiyan had suddenly announced his intention to leave them and withdraw somewhere far away.

For a moment, everyone’s eyes shifted uncertainly around the table. The king looked taken aback. He coughed twice, then nodded. “Of course. If that is what you want, there is nowhere in this kingdom you cannot stay. Do as you please.”

“Thank you.” Kaiyan’s answer was brief. That ended the matter. He said nothing more while drinking his after-dinner tea.

The others exchanged quiet looks before adding their own comments one by one.

“Haylen is a lovely place.”

“Its mild and peaceful climate makes it perfect for the colder season.”

“Yes. Haylen is very pleasant,” the queen nodded as she murmured the words. A faint trace of color returned to her white face, and to the face of the second prince seated across from her.

Standing behind them, Isaac watched only Kaiyan. The prince drank his tea with the same expressionless, mildly bored face he always wore. Nothing about him appeared different. Immediately, a heavy pressure gathered in Isaac’s chest. Even his breath sank beneath its weight, and he rested a hand against his breastbone, slowly rubbing the ache.

No one tried to stop Kaiyan. No one expressed regret. No one asked to accompany him. There was nothing surprising about it, and nothing anyone could easily change. Even so, Isaac could not rid himself of the bitter weight pressing down upon him.

At that moment, Kaiyan suddenly turned toward him. Their eyes met. The prince’s vivid blue gaze held Isaac motionless. Kaiyan slowly examined his face, his eyes revealing nothing of his underlying thoughts. He did not look away. His stare grew so blatant that the others began glancing curiously at Isaac as well.

Why is he looking at me like that?

Isaac struggled to hide his confusion and merely blinked. Kaiyan kept his gaze fixed upon Isaac’s face while he slowly drank his tea. Only after swallowing the final mouthful did he look away.

“I will excuse myself first.” He set down the cup and rose. A few awkward, hurried farewells followed him out.