Little Pink Starfish

“I was simply curious,” Ishar said. “You’ve always insisted on accompanying me whenever I left the palace, haven’t you?”

“Since you said you were going with Lord Veloan, I didn’t say anything.”

Shuzel gave a bitter smile as he tied the knot securing Ishar’s hood—one that reminded Ishar exactly of the day he left for the Mage Tower after accepting the D’nemerwyn name. That same expression.

The face of someone sending off their grown child.

Caught off guard for a moment, Ishar listened as Shuzel continued.

“As Your Majesty knows, until Lord Veloan went missing, I intended to kill him. I believed he was someone who was slowly consuming the life of the person most precious to me.”

“You don’t believe that anymore?”

“No, not anymore. Now I see clearly. Lord Veloan is someone who can protect you.”

Ishar understood instantly that by “protect,” Shuzel didn’t just mean physically.

Veloan would willingly give his life for Ishar. Ishar might never notice that himself, but Shuzel—who had been watching him for so long—knew it with certainty.

“And most of all, I can’t kill someone… for your sake.”

Shuzel stepped back, straightening from where he had been slightly bent, and looked Ishar in the eyes.

The same gentle gaze, filled with unwavering affection, that had been there for as long as Ishar could remember.

“How could I ever harm the one you love?”

“…!”

Ishar’s eyes widened. Those words struck a chord—so direct and piercing, naming a truth he had never even admitted to Veloan.

And it wasn’t Ishar’s reaction that surprised Shuzel—it was how deeply shaken he was.

“Your Majesty? Was I wrong?”

“…Why would you think that?”

“Pardon?”

“Why do you think I love Veloan?”

Shuzel watched him silently, puzzled by the faint tremble in Ishar’s voice, then furrowed his brow slightly and responded with sincere confusion.

“You didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

“…”

“Answer me.”

When Shuzel didn’t immediately reply, anxiety surged. Though only a few seconds had passed, it felt like an eternity.

“It’s clear in the way you treat Lord Veloan.”

“That’s just how one treats a disciple.”

“Then what about the last celebration banquet, when you held his hand?”

“Is that so strange? You’re overthinking things.”

“Your Majesty.”

“Speak.”

“It’s in the way you look at him. At first, I thought you simply cared deeply for him as a disciple. But ever since he returned, you smile so happily whenever you look at him—it’s impossible not to notice.”

“…”

Ishar raised a hand to his forehead, trying to steady himself against the headache forming. Eventually, he sighed and reached a reluctant compromise with himself.

Shuzel had raised him. Of course he would notice, no matter how carefully Ishar tried to hide it.

Surely, no one else—not even Veloan himself—had realized his feelings.

But then Shuzel delivered the final blow.

“Sir Ibnshina noticed too. He came to me earlier and asked how long the two of you had been a couple.”

Ishar shut his eyes tight.

Even Rekayan—who never paid attention to others, had no sense for human relationships, and seemed to lack even a trace of romantic instinct—had noticed. There was no way Veloan hadn’t.

No wonder he kept asking me to say I loved him lately.

Even a few hours ago in the office, as they intertwined, Veloan had pleaded for the words, over and over again, as they neared their peak. A need for confirmation.

“Haa… I understand. Let’s speak more on this later. For now, it’s late. Return to your quarters.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Please return safely.”

With a short, respectful bow, Shuzel left the room. Not long after, there was a knock.

“Come in.”

Before the words were fully out of Ishar’s mouth, the door opened, and Veloan stepped inside, dressed lightly. He came straight to Ishar and wrapped him in a familiar embrace.

Knowing pushing him away wouldn’t work in moments like this, Ishar let him press kisses to his cheek and simply asked:

“Don’t you plan to cover your face?”

“Wasn’t the invitation sent for me? There’s no point hiding my face from someone who already knows I’m coming.”

With that, Veloan pressed a long kiss to Ishar’s lips, then dug into his pocket and handed him a hair tie—a long ribbon of fine silk, the exact shade of Ishar’s eyes.

“…”

Ishar looked up at him with a conflicted gaze.

“Will you tie it for me?”

“…Sit here.”

Veloan obediently sat where Ishar indicated. Ishar stood behind him and began to brush and gather his golden hair. It had once felt awkward, but now it was familiar, and it didn’t take long.

“You said the magic pattern on the invitation was the same as the one engraved on my necklace.”

“Yes.”

“Anyone who recognizes that would know it could get them killed. Sending that invitation means they’re after my heart.”

“Most likely. But don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

Veloan rose. Ishar draped the prepared hooded robe over him and adjusted the clasp.

“Even if they know you’re coming, I still don’t want your face exposed in an unknown place. Bear with the hood for now.”

“Is that jealousy I hear?”

“Yes. So bow your head a little.”

“Yes, Ishar.”

Veloan smiled, clearly pleased, his eyes full of affection. Ishar looked away from that gaze.

Even Rekayan had noticed. There was no way Veloan didn’t know how Ishar felt.

And that only made Ishar more self-conscious. He ignored his rapidly pounding heart.

After pulling the hood down low over Veloan’s face, Ishar took his hand. Veloan shifted slightly, intertwining their fingers.

That small gesture sent his heart—only just calmed—back into a frenzy.

“I’ll begin the teleportation spell now.”

“I’ll do it.”

“I said I’ll do it.”

Ishar insisted. He already disliked the idea of Veloan going at all—he didn’t want him wasting even a bit of magic power.

When their eyes met, Veloan smiled faintly. Ishar’s gaze drifted again toward his lips.

Before Shuzel said anything, I was fine… but now that I know how obvious it is, I can’t stop noticing everything about him.

I want to kiss him.

His lips, his eyes, the slope of his nose, the curve of his cheek—every part of him seemed unbearably alluring. He wanted to press his lips to every warm inch and share his heat.

Even though it hadn’t been a full day since they last made love, his lower stomach ached with desire.

Even if we don’t touch, I just want to spend the entire day alone with Veloan.

How happy that would be. The thought alone made his heart flutter—how sweet it would be if it came true.

“Understood. Do as you wish, Ishar.”

Though Veloan spoke softly, Ishar was so caught up in wrestling with his own emotions and urges that he didn’t even remember what he’d said just moments ago.

He nodded.

“I’m casting it now.”

---

In the past, when it was discovered that Karsha had conducted human experimentation on innocents, twenty-five separate laboratories had been found and purged.

Though the scale of each lab differed, what had occurred within them was the same.

Because the experiments used imperial citizens and criminals alike, the scent of blood, terror, resentment, and hatred had seeped into every inch of those labs—so deeply, it could never be scrubbed out.

Ishar had personally investigated each one as they were uncovered, so he could tell without doubt—

The coordinates in the invitation led to the largest of those labs.

As soon as the ashen-gray corridor appeared before his eyes, he felt it: the suffocating grudge that clung to the air, the malice thick in the walls.

Blood.

The reek of blood that had soaked deep into the earth over time was oppressive—like breathing in the humid air of a dark forest floor. Ishar’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

“…No one alive, it seems.”

Doors lined both sides of the hallway, stretching beyond even Ishar’s enhanced vision. But not a single trace of life stirred.

All the surrounding magic is concealment and protection spells. No matter how elaborate the trap, abandoning a facility of this scale just to capture Veloan? Even if Duke Superzen’s illness has worsened, this feels like a desperate act. Or… perhaps he isn’t the one who sent the invitation at all?

The more his thoughts unraveled, the colder and sharper his mind became—like ice poured over the heat of suspicion.