Yuder silently continued watching the flowing water before slowly shifting his gaze toward the large hand resting atop his own.

He hesitated over whether he should say this, but as he stared at the unmoving fingers atop his own, he felt a certainty that whatever Yuder Aile said, this man would accept it without question.

His mind settled into calm clarity.

“I haven’t cried or felt sad even once, no matter who died, not since my grandfather’s funeral. Not even at yours. It wasn’t particularly... different.”

Because the deceased had been the first Cavalry Commander, Yuder, now the second Commander, had to attend the funeral.

Emperor Kachian had said with a smile, “Due to pressing affairs of state, I regret that I cannot go myself—so I hope you’ll attend in my place.” Behind that smiling face lurked a gleeful curiosity—he wondered what kind of attitude and expression Yudrain Aile would wear at the funeral of someone he himself had killed. And alongside that amusement was the wary, animalistic vigilance of a beast ready to pounce if Yuder showed even a sliver of mourning or grief.

The final funeral of the Imperial bloodline was somber but not quiet. Few of the deceased’s former followers came, apart from the Cavalry members who came to mourn. Instead, it was mostly nobles bearing faces eerily similar to Kachian’s.

They hadn’t come to mourn the dead. It was as if they had come to admire how beautiful the corpse in the casket looked.

The moment Yuder appeared, all attention instantly shifted to him. Even the nobles who had been chatting merrily—faced with the arrival of the common-born “monster” rumored to have assassinated the Duke of Peleta—unconsciously shrank back and fell silent.

But it didn’t last long. As soon as Yuder, expressionless, stepped forward and laid flowers before the coffin where the body lay as if asleep, then turned away, the crowd began speaking again as if nothing had happened.

Some, like the former royalist remnants and a few Cavalry members, stared with eyes full of disgust. Others, nobles aligned with Emperor Kachian or political opportunists, looked on as if assessing ingredients on a cutting board—like calculating chefs.

They all pointed fingers, muttered, laughed, and cursed in their own ways.

Yuder, unaffected, simply returned to his duties as if nothing had occurred.

And so it went, time after time, no matter who died.

Yuder recalled the countless funerals he had attended before lifting his head.

“...This might sound ridiculous, but I don’t think I could walk there as calmly as I did back then... if I were to go now.”

If he had to see Kishiar in the coffin again—

Even the thought of it brought a searing pain to his chest, like his heart was being shattered. It was undoubtedly a pain rooted in grief. The opposite of everything his grandfather had taught him.

And yet, it no longer scared him.

Yuder calmly endured the pain and kept speaking.

“I’m realizing all over again... just how much I’ve changed, by talking about this now. Yes. I’ve changed a lot. But I also discovered yesterday that there’s still a part of me that hasn’t changed since childhood.”

Whenever he was with Kishiar, Yuder found himself learning new things about himself.

Names for emotions he’d never cared to know.

The cold gaze with which he once viewed his past self.

The childhood he’d forgotten and left to gather dust like some discarded relic.

All of it was Yuder Aile—and the one who loved that entire Yuder Aile, just as he was, sat before him.

“.......”

“That’s why I think... I’m truly glad I came here with you. Even if my grandfather were here... I think he would have felt the same.”

“...Yuder.”

Kishiar whispered his name like a groan.

Seeing those trembling lips that seemed at a loss for what to say, Yuder smiled silently and leaned up first to kiss him.

In this moment, those lips were not the lips of a noble royal, nor of the man he’d once killed, nor of the commander whose orders he had to follow.

They were simply the lips of the man Yuder, for the first time in his life, wanted to kiss on his own.

***

As soon as they returned hand in hand, they collapsed onto the bed.

It was ridiculous, considering they’d only just gotten up earlier—but that didn’t matter.

What mattered more was the overwhelming desire to kiss the one who had left him flushed and breathless.

Even in that state, Kishiar muttered, “Still, not here... It hasn’t been long since the heat passed...”

But to Yuder, those were just meaningless excuses.

“There’s no one else here. Don’t tell me that’s why you kept trying to sleep on the chair last night?”

“Well... not just because of that...”

The man could be shamelessly blunt one moment and unreasonably delicate the next.

It made Yuder scoff in disbelief.

He didn’t bother replying and simply began undressing.

“I want this. You want this. That’s enough. What more do we need?”

“...A heart strong enough not to stop from the shock of seeing Yuder Aile being so incredibly attractive and lovable might be good to have, right about now...”

Yuder devoured those foolish lips before they could say more.

Despite all his earlier attempts to hold back, Kishiar’s smiling lips curved upward in surrender.

Kishiar brought his hand to his chest and inhaled deeply, pretending to calm his racing heart.

Then he nestled into the crook of Yuder’s neck and lightly bit the pulsing skin.

At the same time, his hand slid beneath the ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ clothes and brushed down Yuder’s spine, making him shiver from the sudden cold touch.

Yuder lifted his hips in response to the touch, raising his ass high.

Fingers slid into the already damp space between his thighs, now sticky with arousal, and trembled as if savoring the sensation.

Kishiar’s eyes gleamed hot as he whispered,

“My God. You’re already—”

“Yes. Even outside, I was like this.”

Yuder admitted his state without hesitation.

Ever since they had kissed out there, his insides had melted like water, heating up unbearably.

It was an instinctive reaction—his body knew exactly what it wanted and how to get closer, faster, deeper to the man in front of him.

Below his removed pants, the wet fluids trailed down in sticky threads.

His body was ready, aching for Kishiar.

—And that...

“You’re no different, are you?”

Yuder smirked and glanced down.

The other man’s body was swollen, flushed, just as much—if not more—than his own.

Reaching out, Yuder pressed his hand against it through the fabric.

Moisture, even heavier than his own, clung to his fingertips.

Kishiar bent forward under the touch, letting out a sweet breath as his eyelashes fluttered.

“...Can’t be helped. Whenever you’re near me...”

“Yes. I know.”

They touched until their hands were the same temperature, flowing over each other’s skin like water, stripping clothes as they tumbled across the small bed.

And when that longed-for part finally pushed deep inside him, Yuder bit his lip and arched his head back amidst tangled sheets and discarded clothes.

“Uhk... ugh...!”

The overwhelming fullness turned to a body-shaking ecstasy in an instant.

His vision blurred and flared with every thrust, a world crumbling and becoming one with each movement.

Every time Yuder clung to him with all his strength, the other man held him just as tightly, kissing him—as if he were something too precious to bear.

Though it was different from what they shared in Peleta, it carried a similar, soul-deep satisfaction.

Yuder gasped with breathless pleasure.