The Aftermath in Hoshimura
The Hoshimura (Grain Town) was a heartbreaking sight. The grain warehouses were smoldering ruins, and the villagers were terrified.
Hayate, still weak and coughing up blood from the reflected impact, and struggled to stand. He needed a safe place to stabilize both himself and Neshuda.
The loyal guards quickly secured a small, abandoned administrative building. The whole group was exhausted and in danger, but Hayate's priority was Neshuda.
"Find the village healer," Hayate ordered, his voice thin. "Tell them it's urgent, and it's for the King."
Neshuda, however, was stubbornly standing, ignoring the agonizing pain in his ribs. He was using his immense willpower to shield Hayate from the worst of the curse's reflection.
"Stop moving, Neshuda!" Hayate pleaded, his own chest still feeling like it was full of shattered glass. "Your ribs are broken. If you move, I will die!"
Neshuda's dark eyes were intense and full of self-loathing. "I am the weakness, Hayate. I am sorry. I will not cause you more pain."
Neshuda forced himself onto a cot, lying stiffly on his back, trying to keep his breathing shallow and controlled.
The Fevered Truth
The village healer, a kind, elderly woman, arrived quickly. She treated Neshuda with professional speed, wrapping his ribs tightly and giving him a strong herbal mixture.
"He needs rest, young King," the healer said, looking at Hayate's pale face with concern. "His fever will rise tonight. The pain is too much."
Hayate felt a chill, and it wasn't just the cold night air. The fever, the trauma, and the internal pain were all being perfectly reflected.
As night fell, Hayate's own body temperature spiked. He began to sweat profusely, his skin burning hot, mirroring Neshuda's physical struggle. Hayate knew he couldn't take the healer's herbs because it might interfere with his Angelic bloodline and healing aura.
Hayate tossed and turned on his own cot, his mind slipping into a painful, feverish haze.
He felt Neshuda's pain—a crushing weight in his ribs—and he felt Neshuda's fear—a deep terror that he would fail Hayate and bring the kingdom down.
He managed to crawl across the room to Neshuda's side.
Neshuda, despite the high fever, was conscious and equally terrified. He was sweating, shivering, and barely coherent, but his first instinct was still protection.
"Go back... Your Majesty," Neshuda mumbled, pushing a weak hand toward Hayate. "I'm... too hot. You will get sick."
"We're already sick, you idiot," Hayate whispered, his voice thick with fever. He placed his burning hand on Neshuda's forehead.
Hayate focused his entire being, pushing his healing aura—a faint, flickering golden light—into Neshuda. It was a risk, as the curse amplified all feelings, but Hayate had to try.
A Confession in the Dark...
As the fever and the curse blurred reality, Hayate stopped censoring his thoughts. His deepest feelings, usually hidden by his need to act mature and regal, spilled out.
He saw the lines of pain on Neshuda's face, the deep scars on his arms that reflected a terrible past. Hayate knew, in this feverish moment, that Neshuda was the most beautiful and painful person he had ever known.
"Why do you always fight me?" Hayate murmured, stroking Neshuda's wet hair back from his forehead. "Just rest. Just trust me."
"I... I can't trust anyone," Neshuda mumbled, closing his eyes, the guilt hitting him hard again. "I'm a nameless stray. I bring only pain."
"You bring me strength," Hayate whispered, tears welling up in his eyes from the pain and the intense emotion. "Don't you understand? Since my father died, I have been so scared. Everyone is watching me. Everyone wants me to fail."
He leaned in closer, his voice barely audible. "But you... you are my strength, Neshuda. You are the only person who is absolutely real in this palace. You are my anchor. My home."
Hayate confessed his deepest fear and dependence—that Neshuda was the only thing that made the heavy crown bearable.
Neshuda, half-conscious and consumed by the fever, heard the desperate, pure-hearted plea. He felt the intense, overwhelming love Hayate had for him—not the love of a King for a guard, but the love of one soul for another.
Neshuda managed to lift a shaking, scarred hand and touch Hayate's cheek. The gesture was a raw, primal acceptance of their tragic bond.
"I won't leave you," Neshuda promised, his voice choked with emotion and fever. "I will never leave you."
Hayate felt the pain in his own chest ease instantly, replaced by a surge of warmth and intense loyalty. The curse had reflected the love and the promise, confirming their connection.
The Secret Alliance
The next morning, both men were weak but stable. The fever had broken.
The loyal guards reported back from checking the burned warehouses. They confirmed what Hayate had suspected: the attack was highly organized, and the attackers carried official-looking travel permits.
"Henudra," Neshuda said, his voice flat with cold certainty. "He orchestrated this. He knew we would come, and he knew how to hurt you."
Hayate nodded, his face grim. "He won't stop. He wants me weak, and he knows you are the key to my weakness. We cannot trust anyone, Neshuda. Only us."
They realized the full danger of their situation. The political conspiracy was intertwined with their personal tragedy. They were not just fighting for a throne; they were fighting for their survival and the stability of the entire kingdom.
Hayate looked at Neshuda, now fully recovered from the fever and looking fierce and ready.
"We need to get back to the Citadel," Hayate said. "We need to act like this attack never happened. We must hide the curse. Neshuda, promise me. No more injuries, no matter how small. I can't take another reflection."
Neshuda met his King's eyes and gave a solemn, non-verbal vow. He would become a silent ghost, a perfect shield, a master of stealth—anything to protect Hayate and prevent the curse from striking again.
They rode out of Hoshimura under the bright morning sun, leaving the devastation behind. They were no longer just a King and his guard; they were a secret alliance, bound by a dangerous curse and an unbreakable love.