Little Pink Starfish

Amon casually reached out and popped a small bird-shaped piece of gold into his mouth. Every time Nine heard the sound of gold being crushed between his teeth, he marveled anew. Nine had tried biting gold before, but it was far too hard for a human’s teeth. He had swallowed a pearl once—but it wasn’t particularly tasty.

Nine cautiously asked:

“Do the things prepared today suit your taste, Amon?”

“They’re edible enough.”

Amon answered indifferently. Whether eating gold or meat, his expression never changed. When Nine poured him some wine, Amon glanced at him and absentmindedly took a sip. Gathering his courage, Nine held a grape up to Amon’s lips.

Amon opened his mouth, swallowed the grape—and pulled Nine’s fingers into his mouth too.

Though it wasn’t the first time, Nine froze wide-eyed. He could feel the grape burst between his fingers, the juice running down, and it gave the dizzying illusion that Amon was eating his fingers. Amon licked the grape juice from Nine’s fingers before releasing him, murmuring:

“Sweet.”

“If you like it, I’ll… I’ll bring you more…”

Nine forced himself to speak slowly to avoid stammering. His face paled, then flushed red, heart pounding wildly. When Amon nodded, Nine shakily brought another grape to his lips.

Amon opened his mouth again—his sharp canines glinting—and Nine instinctively swallowed dryly. The bursting grape juice looked so red it resembled blood, making Nine’s gaze tremble.

After crushing the second grape, Amon suddenly turned his head.

Nine followed his gaze. Amon, who had been indifferent even when shown a snow-white northern cow as tribute, now stared intently at someone other than Nine—for the first time.

Everyone, sensitive to the Sha’s movements, also turned to look. Nine inhaled sharply.

It was immediately obvious: the new Resha.

Indeed, with such rare hair and eye colors, there was no mistaking him. Both his hair and eyes were a soft pink, like flower petals. It was so similar to the rare blossoms in Nine’s own garden, he found it unsettling. Could a human even possess such colors? Nine hardened his expression. And if not a human, then what—?

Nine scrutinized the Resha’s face. Unlike most Reshas who would nervously avert their gaze, this one dared to meet Amon’s eyes directly—and even smiled.

Even Nine, who was used to all manner of beautiful faces, found this youth astonishingly handsome.

And then, shockingly, Amon spoke—breaking his usual silence at banquets:

“Bring him to me.”

For the first time, Amon had shown interest in a Resha. Nine’s heart sank. A grape he had been holding slipped from his fingers, leaving a faint stain on his white robe.

The priest, always watching Amon’s gestures closely, bowed deeply and hurried off to summon the Resha.

Sensing that something unprecedented was happening, Ossen Iyad quickly left his conversation with other high priests and approached Amon’s side. Though he kept his eyes fixed on Amon, Nine could feel him glancing at his own reactions too. Nine bit the inside of his lip to keep from revealing anything.

“The humble servant greets the Great and Almighty Sha.”

The summoned Resha approached, kneeling at the base of the steps and bowing low. The banquet hall buzzed with murmurs. Up close, his exotic looks were even more striking.

Even with his hair cut short like a slave’s, he didn’t look the least bit diminished—it only enhanced his unique charm.

“Raise your head and state your name and origins.”

At Ossen’s command, the Resha lifted his head, a faint smile on his lips.

“My name is Lan Gwen. Lan is the family name, Gwen the given name. I was born and raised in a place called Solara, in the North.”

Nine knew of Solara—it was famous for its fine white stone, which was currently being imported to carve statues of Amon and himself. It was months away by horse.

Nine, unable to hide his bristling nerves, asked sharply:

“Why travel so far to become a Resha?”

“I humbly apologize, Sha Nine. I have always loved wandering. A few years ago, I left my homeland and traveled to another continent. On my way back, I passed through Trastasa, and was moved by the beauty of this land and the majesty of the Great Sha. I decided to stay—and by grace, was honored to become a Resha despite my low birth.”

His fluent, polished speech showed no hint of strangeness. You’d think he was born in Trastasa. But no matter how smooth he sounded, Nine found it intolerable that some barbarian of unclear status had been allowed into the sacred ranks of the Reshas.

Before Nine could press him further, Amon stood up.

Nine watched with wide eyes as Amon descended the steps. Even calling a Resha closer would have been surprising—but moving himself? Nine gripped the armrest of his chair tightly.

At the final step, Amon stood towering over Lan Gwen.

“Raise your head.”

“Yes, Sha.”

Nine could only see Amon’s back now. Everyone watched breathlessly as Lan Gwen rose to his knees. His body, as well-formed as his face, shimmered under the torchlight.

Amon slowly circled the kneeling Resha, his golden eyes fixed on him. Nine could read fascination and curiosity in that gaze.

“From the North, you say…”

Lan Gwen, daringly, spoke up first:

“I heard that the god of our land also recently took a consort.”

“How dare you speak without permission!”

Ossen Iyad thundered. But Amon merely twitched an eyebrow and said nothing.

Then, he reached out—grasped Lan Gwen’s chin—and lifted it.

Even Ossen flinched at this action. Amon leaned in, nearly burying his face into the young man’s neck. Nine blinked, disbelieving.

Amon…

Never before had he shown such intimacy to any Resha. Nine’s gaze flickered back to the Resha’s pink hair and eyes.

Lan Gwen, eyes lowered, slowly lifted his gaze and boldly met Nine’s stare.

How dare you…

Nine glared coldly, but the Resha merely smiled, almost playfully. Nine’s fists clenched tight enough to tremble.

Amon, finally straightening, spoke:

“What is this scent?”

“I have a small talent for perfumery, Sha.”

What scent could make Amon so interested? Nine seethed inwardly.

The hall was full of incense, and Nine, seated far away, could not catch Lan Gwen’s scent. As Nine fumed, Amon stared at Lan Gwen a moment longer, then silently returned to his seat.

“I shall withdraw now, Sha.”

Lan Gwen bowed deeply and retreated. Even after he returned to his place, the crowd couldn’t tear their eyes away.

The other Reshas glared at him with deadly hatred, but Lan Gwen remained unbothered, sipping his wine.

The banquet, now restless, eventually ended. High-ranking guests exited first. Amon left, and Nine—throwing a last glance at Lan Gwen—reluctantly followed.

Behind them, it would be more than an hour before anyone else was allowed to leave.

The Great Temple, under the fully set night, was quiet and beautiful. Cool breezes blew. Crickets chirped softly. The pathways between the tower gates were lit by refined magic stones, glowing brightly.

Nine watched the view briefly, then—feeling anxious—hurried after Amon. Amon, sensing the gaze, turned his head.

Even in the faint light, he looked divine. His golden eyes glowed faintly at the rims as he said:

“Come here.”

Encouraged, Nine stepped closer and carefully asked:

“May I ask… what scent did you catch from him?”

“…It was something I’ve never smelled before.”