Little Pink Starfish

The carriage had stopped at a riverbank thick with palm trees. The occasional river breeze cooled the sweat of the priests and slaves, who busily prepared lunch. Even this scene, mundane to others, felt novel to Nyne. He spent a while simply watching before taking a few steps forward.

“Sha, it is dangerous.”

Nyne was not even very close to the water, but Seinka Hoan warned him as if he might fall in at any moment.

“Am I not still far from the water?”

“You are, but near the reeds there could be crocodiles, snakes, or wild beasts in hiding. Of those, hippos are the most dangerous.”

Indeed, the reeds near the river looked dense and overgrown. Rather than get closer to the water, Nyne simply stood at the edge and watched the dark water flow. The air felt thick and humid, prompting him to murmur,

“The flood season must be approaching—it’s so humid.”

“Yes, it will rain endlessly again. But at least the heat should ease a little.”

Lu echoed Nyne’s words. Once the river flooded, it would cover the plains—including the very ground Nyne now stood upon. After the flood receded and the fertile plains were plowed, the Harvest Festival would eventually follow.

By the time Nyne returned from his brief observation, Amon had also exited the carriage and was standing beneath the shade of a palm tree. Even from a distance, his glowing golden eyes had been fixed on Nyne as he watched the river.

The priests, realizing they were keeping the Sha waiting, rushed to level the ground and lay down a long carpet. They brought out large tables and chairs from the carts and arranged them under the shade. In front of the high table, low tables and cushions were placed in a line for the Leshas and high priests. Beneath them, only the priests had access to a carpet. The slaves had nothing but bare dirt to sit on.

Once Amon and Nyne were seated, food was brought out. The quantity and quality were nearly the same as they usually had in the Temple, which surprised Nyne—he hadn’t seen the priests doing any cooking since they arrived.

“When and where was all this prepared?”

“Priests who left earlier prepared everything in a nearby village yesterday and transported it here to match our arrival, Sha.”

Osen Iyad answered proudly. The dishes were warm and steaming—everything had been meticulously prepared. The food in front of the Leshas, though not equal to that of the Sha, was still of fine quality. Nyne wondered just how many people had been mobilized for the Hunting Festival as he began his meal.

Perhaps because they were outside, the food tasted better than usual. Even Nyne, who hadn’t had much of an appetite lately, was able to eat a fair amount today. Amon, however, remained uninterested in food, as always. Instead, he chewed a few pieces of meat and gem-like stones while watching Nyne eat—gazing at him as if savoring the act through his eyes.

It was overwhelming, but Nyne finished eating. Then, the Leshas who had been waiting quietly began their meal. Nyne sipped wine and watched them chatting and laughing. His gaze naturally passed over each one until it landed on Gwen. As if waiting for it, Gwen smiled back. Nyne quickly turned his head away.

After the Leshas, the high priests began their meal. When they finished, the remaining food was shared among the other priests. Afterward, the livestock were fed and watered. Once cleanup was complete, only then did the slaves begin their meal.

What they were given was meager: watery wine and two pieces of salted bread. Even during their meal, they were constantly summoned and moved about, never able to rest properly under the palm shade. They wiped sweat from their foreheads while chewing hurriedly. Clicking his tongue softly, Nyne called Osen Iyad.

“The slaves have been carrying burdens in this heat—can they really be sustained with just that?”

“Forgive me, Sha. But today, those wretches are freer than usual, so they shouldn’t tire easily.”

Unlike the priests, who walked unburdened, the slaves carried goods the entire way and continued laboring even after arriving—hauling, leveling the ground, and more. If this was what Iyad called an ‘easy day,’ how harsh must their usual treatment be?

Surprisingly, Nyne seemed to be the only one who pitied the slaves. Using Amon as an excuse, he gave Osen Iyad an order.

“Give them more food. They’ll work harder for Sha Amon if they’re fed well.”

“Your wise words, Sha Nyne, humble this servant’s ignorance. I shall obey at once.”

After offering his flattery, Osen called a priest and issued instructions. Soon, the slaves were given an extra piece of bread, some fruit, and a handful of salted meat. Overjoyed, they rose and bowed deeply in Nyne’s direction. When Nyne turned his head and pretended not to notice, they exchanged glances and quickly squatted down to eat.

They rested in the shade until the sun had sufficiently faded. Music and dance priests performed to relieve the Sha’s boredom. The lazy afternoon passed quickly, and as the sun began to set, the procession prepared to move again.

Though he had ridden comfortably, Nyne still felt fatigued and sat on the bed this time. The soft pillows lined along the walls allowed him to lean back and relax. Soon, Amon leaned in close and wrapped Nyne fully in his arms. Was it his imagination? Amon’s expression seemed more relaxed than usual—subtly different, but noticeable.

Nyne touched the thick arm wrapped around his waist. A strange, peaceful feeling came over him—one he rarely felt while with Amon.

“Lord Amon.”

Instead of a reply, Amon traced Nyne’s ear with his lips. Nyne flinched, then cautiously asked,

“Do you… like watching me eat?”

It was rare to be alone with Amon like this—with only two deathly silent attendants present. Feeling emboldened, Nyne dared to ask.

Amon fell into an uncharacteristically long silence. Uneasy, Nyne glanced up to find Amon staring at him intensely. A large hand gently caressed his cheek and lips.

“There was a time long ago… when I ate something truly delicious.”

Golden eyes curved in a faint smile, and the corners of Amon’s mouth lifted. It was the first time Nyne had ever seen him smile so clearly. Nyne returned a hesitant smile, but chills ran down his spine.

“It was so sweet. Not a single part of it tasted bad. I devoured it in one bite, and even then, it felt like a waste. I wished I’d savored it more slowly. So I let it melt inside me, bit by bit, over time.”

Nyne froze, overwhelmed by the obsessive tone and gaze. Amon’s golden irises dilated and contracted like metal in heat. Watching his throat move as he swallowed, Nyne realized Amon was reliving the taste of whatever that “delicious thing” was. Slowly, the smile faded from Amon’s face.

“But I was never able to eat it again. A pity, truly. That’s why I watch you eat, to experience a kind of substitute pleasure. Nothing tastes good to me anymore.”

Terror seized Nyne. He regretted asking. Amon’s story mentioned nothing but something delicious—but why did it sound so terrifying? Nyne took a long breath and, trying to sound casual, asked,

“Couldn’t the priests just bring you the same thing again?”

“That was a one-of-a-kind delicacy, Nyne. How could mere humans find something like that again?”

Amon gazed at Nyne in his arms. Nyne avoided his eyes—there was hunger in them. Amon lightly nipped his cheek, then his ear. A click echoed beside Nyne’s ear as Amon’s teeth met.

If only I had something even slightly similar. If only I could taste a little more.

Murmuring, Amon pulled Nyne tightly into his embrace, as if to consume him whole. Only after a long time passed did Nyne finally breathe again—like a man emerging from underwater.