Little Pink Starfish

Would they really drown and die like that? As Nyne looked around anxiously, he was relieved to see that small rowboats following Sha’s ship were discreetly pulling the fallen priests out of the water one by one. The priests on the rowboats climbed aboard via ropes to take the place of those who had fallen. It was a seamless swap.

Fortunately, no one else fell into the water after that. But even so, being in the arms of someone who had just moments ago found amusement in people drowning, Nyne felt an unbearable sense of suffocation. He gently slipped out of Amon’s embrace and walked closer to the railing.

“Sha Nyne, it’s dangerous to get too close.”

One of the priests, who had replaced a fallen one, stood behind him with a large fan casting its shadow over Nyne, speaking in a soft tone. Nyne ignored him and stared down at the rippling surface. The lake water wasn’t so much transparent as it was a murky blue. Occasionally, lotus leaves and aquatic plants drifted past the boat.

As he gazed at the water’s gentle ripples, dark and frightening thoughts rose up. Even though he knew Amon cherished him, Nyne couldn’t shake the feeling that Amon might someday harm him. Perhaps because Amon treated human lives as trivial, Nyne feared his own life might be regarded just the same.

One of the priests, visibly nervous about how close Nyne stood to the edge, quickly brought over a chair. But Nyne didn’t sit. Instead, he leaned on the railing, gripping it with both hands and peering down at the lake. Despite the heat, the water looked cool and inviting.

If I fall in, it might be painful at first, but once my lungs fill with water, I won’t feel the heat anymore. Peace might come after that…

Nyne flinched. Amon had risen and was suddenly embracing him from behind.

“What are you thinking about so deeply?”

“Just…”

“Just?”

Amon’s arms wrapped tightly around Nyne’s waist, as if they would never let go. Nyne stared blankly at the water and spoke.

“…I was thinking what it might be like if I fell into the water.”

As soon as he said it, Amon grabbed his chin and turned his face toward him. Amon stared into his eyes for a long time, and then the smile slowly faded from his face. He turned to Ossen Iyad and asked,

“Can Nyne swim?”

“No, Sha.”

“Then why would he say something like that?”

Amon’s flat tone drained the color from Ossen Iyad’s face. Before Nyne could explain himself, Amon gently caressed his cheek and kissed the corner of his eye.

“I suppose I’ll have to behead all the priests attending to you. If you’re thinking such thoughts, they must be doing a poor job. I’ll replace them with ones who can care for you properly.”

Nyne, who had been feeling strangely dazed and powerless, snapped back to alertness. Amon had once already executed nearly half of the priests and slaves in Nyne’s sanctum. Nyne had collapsed in shock after that, and Amon hadn’t repeated the act since—but he absolutely could. Nyne hurried to reply.

“No, Amon. They’re doing a good job. Please don’t.”

“Truly?”

Amon caressed Nyne with affection. Every place his fingers passed gave Nyne goosebumps. As he stared into those cold, golden eyes, he was reminded again: Amon was the absolute ruler of Trastasa, a living god. Compared to him, Nyne was nothing more than a pitiful human.

“You’re always worrying over useless things.”

Amon’s sun-warmed fingers swept Nyne’s damp hair aside. His golden eyes, brighter than usual, stared intensely at Nyne. His lips curved into a chilling line.

“For your sake, I wouldn’t hesitate to trample over thousands, tens of thousands of human lives. Such things mean nothing. You must live—no matter what, my lovely one.”

The words were filled with genuine affection—and yet, they made Nyne shudder.

He revered and loved Amon… When Amon showed him affection, he felt joy and warmth. But at times, Amon’s love and attention became unbearable. Nyne often felt that even as they spoke, they weren’t truly communicating. It was like they were fundamentally different beings, forever incapable of understanding one another.

Of course. Amon is a god… I’m just a human. There’s no way I could understand him.

The priests always told him: Never doubt the will of Sha Amon. To question or defy Sha Amon is blasphemy and a grave sin. Among all forms of death, dying for him is the most meaningful, the most honorable—and guarantees eternal joy in the afterlife…

Nyne’s chest felt tight, but he repeated those words to himself, trying to steady his heart. If he wasn’t careful, others could be punished and killed for his carelessness. He suspected Amon had misunderstood his words.

“Amon, it was just something I said because of the heat. I can’t swim, but I can splash around a little.”

Nyne tried to sound casual as he cast a glance back at the lake.

He shrugged lightly and added gently,

“But now that I look again, the water seems too dirty to splash in.”

Amon’s gaze roamed slowly over Nyne’s body. After a moment, he nodded slowly, as if realization had dawned.

“I see. You’ve been sweating a lot.”

Apparently satisfied with this explanation, the sharpness in Amon’s golden eyes eased. Ossen Iyad, whose face had gone pale, spoke politely as if nothing had happened:

“Come rest under the canopy, Sha Nyne, to cool off.”

Nyne turned away from the rippling water and returned to his seat. As he sat down, the priests immediately brought fans and ice. They wiped his arms and legs with cold towels soaked in ice water and fanned him diligently. Amon picked up a large ice cube, bit it into a manageable size, and held it to Nyne’s lips.

“You are the one I treasure and adore more than anything in this world. Always be careful with yourself. If anything happens to you, those caring for you will pay the price.”

“Yes, Amon. I will always keep that in mind.”

Nyne obediently replied and took the ice into his mouth. As it melted, the heat inside him slowly eased. He leaned back, exhausted, and Amon lifted his chin with a curled finger. Pressing a cool kiss to Nyne’s lips, he whispered:

“Until I grow tired of all this—you must live a very long time.”

The most treasured, the most adored—until he grows tired…

Nyne took a moment to swallow the ice and then softly replied:

“Yes.”

From nearby, Ossen Iyad—who had been standing silently—cast Nyne a sharp, hidden glance that no one else noticed.

“What luxury this is…”

Lu smiled joyfully as he looked into the ice-filled cooler. The ice had been gifted after the boat ride—sent directly from Amon’s sanctum. In a place like Trastasa, which was hot all year round, ice was a rare treasure. It was usually made in ice chambers using mana stones—each basket of ice consumed about ten stones.

Priests managing the ice chambers replaced the melting ice every hour, dripping with sweat. Thanks to their effort, Nyne’s sanctum now held a rare, cool atmosphere. Lu, basking in this uncommon comfort, grinned from ear to ear.

“How was the boat ride yesterday, Lord Nyne?”

He handed Nyne a cold drink made of sweet-and-sour pomegranate juice with floating ice. Just as only a select few could enter Amon’s sanctum, only chosen ones were allowed on his boat. While Nyne had been out with Amon, Lu, Popo, and the other priests had waited quietly by the lakeside.

“Eh, same as when we sail on our own.”

Nyne sipped the pomegranate drink and immediately grimaced. It was too sour. A priest quickly replaced it with another bottle. Only after drinking chilled palm wine sweetened with honey did his face relax.

“Sha Amon was there—it couldn’t have been just like ours.”

Lu, having gulped the pomegranate juice unaware of its sourness, looked at Nyne with eyes full of awe and envy. It was obvious he longed to board the sacred boat himself. Nyne gave a bitter smile. Sha Amon found joy in watching people drown yesterday… Unlike my boat rides.

With that thought, Nyne set the wine aside after just a few sips. Lu tasted it, grimaced, and said,

“Lord Nyne prefers less sweetness. Please bring a fresh one.”

“Yes, right away.”

The priest bowed politely and brought a new batch of palm wine. This time, with less honey, it perfectly suited Nyne’s taste. Seeing him drink half the cup, Lu beamed proudly.

“See? You really do need me around, Lord Nyne.”

His eyes seemed to plead, Next time, please speak to Sha Amon and let me join you on the boat. Just as he looked at Nyne hopefully, Popo pinched his ear.

“Don’t be disrespectful in front of Sha.”

“When was I ever disrespectful? I’m always a sweet and loyal servant in front of Sha.”

Lu smiled brightly and rubbed his cheek against Nyne’s knee. From the doorway, Yiwu, who was standing guard, twitched his eye in disgust at the display. When their eyes met, Lu snorted and clung to Nyne even more exaggeratedly.

As Lu pestered him for details about the boat ride, Nyne slowly stroked his hair and thought: If Lu were Sha instead of me, maybe he’d be happier. He wouldn’t mind watching slaves fight to the death or people drowning…

But Nyne shook his head and pushed the thought away. Even voicing such a thing would be a crime for Lu.

“Shall we begin preparing for the ritual now, Lord Nyne?”

Popo asked sweetly, gesturing to the priests. Nyne sighed instead of answering and rolled over to his side.