The creaking of the bed mixed with the lewd, wet sounds to create an overwhelming rhythm. Areo’s ragged breathing spilled over her sweat-soaked forehead.

“Haa…”

It felt almost desperate. Cyrene wrapped her arms around his damp shoulders, pulling him closer. She didn’t know what was driving him so intensely, but she thought she could sense a faint trace of emotion in his movements.

Though she didn’t know exactly what it was, Cyrene could tell that Areos’ emotions were tangled and complex.

Had it begun after his return?

Catching her breath, Cyrene ran her fingers through his hair, now so close to her. Something had changed. There were no other men, yet Areos was acting strangely – somehow different.

Why?

No matter how much she thought about it, there was no answer. She closed her eyes. Wasn’t her life always moved by Areos’ hands, no matter what she thought or felt?

“Please don’t leave me.”

That was all she wanted – nothing more. In response to her soft whisper, Areos’ dark laugh echoed faintly, almost as if answering her plea. Then he claimed her once more with a devouring kiss, as if intent on consuming all.

Cyrene breathed shakily against his lips as he sucked her tongue with an intensity that left her breathless.

Everything. As if he wanted to claim everything that belonged to Cyrene as his own, even her very breath. Areos drove into her without hesitation, leaving his mark deep in the core of her being.

“Ah… hmm…”

“Haa…”

Cyrene struggled against him, but he showed no intention of letting her go. His arms tightened around her with a force that made her body ache. She could barely breathe. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his back, holding him tight.

She still couldn’t understand why he was behaving like this. A low, animal-like rumble of breath echoed from his chest, filling the air.

***

Cyrene’s eyes widened in surprise. Standing right before her was the person she had longed to meet but had been unable to see. She rubbed her eyes a few times, unsure if it was a dream, but Ilion remained there, smiling at her.

“How have you been?”

He spoke with a gentle smile. Cyrene instinctively glanced at Areos. His brow twitched slightly, but he said nothing.

Was this his way of saying it was okay to meet Ilion?

Her heart fluttered a little. While she was glad not to have been meeting other men, she had been saddened by her inability to see Ilion. She hadn’t dared to voice that regret, yet here he was, standing before her. How could this have happened?

Cyrene wasn’t sure if she should show her happiness or not, so she forced her lips, which kept threatening to curl upward, back into a neutral line. Areos’s expression wasn’t particularly pleasant.

“I’ve… been well.”

Ilion offered her a faint smile, a hint of relief softening his expression. As Cyrene fidgeted nervously, uncertain of how to respond, the sound of wheels drew her attention—a carriage had come to a halt just behind Ilion.

“Hm?”

A carriage. The sight of it sent a creeping unease settling deep in her chest. Had a carriage ever brought anything good? Not once.

The first time, it had taken her to the capital. The second, she’d merely glimpsed the outside world through its heavy curtains. The third had delivered her to the count’s underground basement. The fourth—though she hadn’t even stepped inside—had nearly seen her dragged to the emperor.

Cyrene instinctively took a step back, her body moving on its own.

“Cyrene, please get in.”

Ilion opened the carriage door with a kind smile, his expression devoid of malice. Yet Cyrene’s heart sank. She knew all too well what it meant to be placed inside a carriage—nothing good ever followed.

“Your Highness.”

She urgently grabbed Areos’s arm.

Surely he wasn’t planning to send her away, was he?

Of course, she knew Ilion was kind and had never done anything harmful to her, but the fear of being abandoned outweighed all else.

“Your Highness.”

Like a child throwing a tantrum, she tugged at his sleeve again and again. Areos, who had been avoiding her gaze, slowly turned to face her.

“You’re… not abandoning me, right?”

“…”

“Please, Your Highness. You’re not abandoning me, are you?”

Her eyes filled with tears, brimming and ready to fall. Clinging desperately to the hem of his clothes, she looked up at him, trembling. But no answer came.

“I won’t abandon you.”

“But, then why… why…”

Why was he putting her in the carriage? Why did it feel like Ilion was taking her away? Why was he avoiding her gaze? Why? Why?

Tears began to fall in steady streams. Cyrene, stumbling over her words, clung to Areos’s leg desperately.

“Your Highness, p-please, don’t abandon me. I was wrong.”

“I’m not abandoning you.”

“Then please, don’t send me away.”

It wasn’t a lie to say that she was terrified of following Ilion. No matter how kind he had been to her, or how much she had longed to see him, the world beyond Areo’s embrace was an unbearably frightening place.

“It’s only for a little while, so don’t worry.”

Areos murmured softly, an unusual softness in his tone as he tried to calm Cyrene. His large hand stroked her hair before helping her up from where she had crumpled to the floor.

Cyrene began to sob uncontrollably. As tears streamed down her cheeks, the Crown Prince brushed them away with his thumb and let out a small sigh.

“I will come for you. I promise.”

She knew she should believe him, but her hands still clung to his sleeve. Tears dripped from her chin and fell to the floor.

If she was going to meet Ilion, she wanted it to be here. In this place, where everything was familiar. Here, his kindness and gentleness didn’t seem out of place. But the moment he had entered the Count’s underground basement, he had become someone else entirely.

That frightened her – the thought of seeing a side of him she didn’t recognise. She wanted to remember Ilion as nothing more than the gentle, caring person he had always been. She didn’t want to see or know anything beyond that. And she didn’t want to be disappointed by Areos again.

“Your Highness, Your… Highness… Your Highness…”

Cyrene continued to call out to Areos, her voice filled with desperation. He roughly wiped her tear streaked face and without hesitation pushed her away. The sudden shove caused her tears to stop abruptly. It had to be true – he was going to leave her again. No matter what he said, the act of sending her away was no different.

“Your Highness…”

As she tried to fall at his feet again, Ilion was quicker and caught her before she could.

“Let me go! Your Highness, please don’t leave me… please.”

Even if it meant being kicked away, she didn’t care. Cyrene clung to the hope that he would change his mind, but Ilion stepped into her line of sight, blocking her view of Areos.

“…Cyrene, there’s nothing to fear.”

Although she could sense no lie in his words, her body trembled uncontrollably.

“Nothing will happen. You’ll be safe.”

“I don’t want…”

“You will see His Highness again. I promise.”

Cyrene sniffled, her tears slowly coming to a halt. She was torn – not sure if she should trust his words or continue to beg. There was sincerity in Ilion’s voice and she didn’t want to believe that he could be as cruel as the count.

“…If Cyrene wishes to see His Highness again, I’ll bring you back any time.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I promise.”

Cyrene blinked, her eyes wide, as more tears spilled over and rolled down her cheeks.

“Your Highness…”

“Go now.”

Areos said, waving a hand dismissively before turning his back to her. It was as if he no longer wanted to see her.

Cyrene’s vision blurred again as fresh tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over at his cold gesture.

“His Highness is not abandoning you. It’s just… a temporary measure to keep you safe.”

Safe from what?

Cyrene went limp in Ilion’s grasp, her strength drained. He carefully helped her into the carriage, placing her in one seat before taking the one opposite.

With a slight jolt, the carriage began to move. Her eyes burned again and tears fell uncontrollably. She couldn’t help it – her mind was filled with fearful thoughts.

“…Oh dear.”

Ilion murmured, a slightly awkward smile crossing his face. He moved to sit beside her, gently pulling her closer. His steady hand guided her to rest against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat echoed in her ears, strong and rhythmic.

“Ah… ugh…”

Cyrene clung to his clothes, trembling as fresh tears streamed down her face. Fear and unease gripped her at the thought of leaving Areos, yet at the same time, being with Ilion brought a fragile sense of comfort.

“You’re going to be okay.”

The soft voice and the gentle hand stroking her back were comforting. Half asleep, Cyrene surrendered to his embrace.

***

He had thought he would never see Cyrene again. After promising to do everything he could to get her back from the Count, the Crown Prince had ordered him never to show his face in front of her again.

Even if she couldn’t be happy at Areos’ side, at least it wouldn’t be unbearable. At least it would be much better than being with that count. So he convinced himself that she would be fine and tried to put the thought of Cyrene out of his mind.

“What do you mean?”

But then an unexpected summons and a sudden order. At Ilion’s questioning tone, Areos raised his voice slightly, sounding irritated.

“I mean for you to take her with you for a while.”

The question of why never left Ilion’s lips. What would be the point of asking? The nobles were already in an uproar because the Crown Prince had executed one of his own vassals, the Count, and even more so because it was related to Cyrene.

What could this woman have done to make him kill the count? The foundation of power that had firmly supported the Crown Prince now had a crack – a dangerous development. Everyone who had dealt with Cyrene was now watching each other carefully, trying to assess the situation.

Though he never openly admitted to caring for her, what else could such actions mean if not the actions of someone who did? Fearing the consequences, those around the Crown Prince began to retreat to protect themselves, which only served to strengthen the princess’s influence.

And now, once again, he had defied the Emperor’s orders – over Cyrene.

People publicly lamented how such a thing could happen between father and son, but everyone knew that wasn’t the whole story. From the beginning, the relationship between Cyrene and Areos had never been something that could be accepted.

They all muttered about how beauty could ruin a nation, but no one spoke louder or with more amusement than the princess herself. Of course, it was expected.

“She’s your sister.”

But wasn’t the Crown Prince the same? Ilion swallowed the bitter words he wanted to say. This sister of his, whom he embraced whenever he felt like it – whom he had even exposed to others, forcing her to humiliate herself for their amusement. And now he dared to invoke the fact that she was his sister?

“You only need to keep her for a while.”

He could have refused. But he didn’t. Who else could be entrusted with her? Anyone who met Cyrene’s gaze, even for a moment, would surely fall under her spell. Ilion tried to forget the softness of her skin that had once brushed against his hand.

“What are you going to do?”

“That’s not something the Marquis needs to know.”

The options were limited. Cyrene had destroyed Areos’ power base and put him at odds with the Emperor. Meanwhile, the princess had seized the opportunity to attack him relentlessly.

He would either take the throne or remove the princess as a threat.

Becoming emperor or consolidating his position as sole crown prince were his only options. Ilion lowered his gaze. The princess had made an attempt to approach him once, but it had only amounted to fleeting hints. Regardless, Ilion could not turn his back on Cyrene. She still belonged to the crown prince.

“You understand why I entrusted her to you, don’t you?”

Ilion suppressed the urge to laugh bitterly. Of course he understood. He was the only one who hadn’t touched her. The words were less a request than a warning – an order not to touch her, now or ever. Without a word, Ilion nodded slightly and bowed his head in recognition.

Was the plan simply to remove her from sight temporarily and place her somewhere safe?

Given that she had attracted the Emperor’s attention, it was probably the only option. While the walls of the Crown Prince’s palace were an impenetrable fortress to others, to the Emperor they were nothing more than a minor inconvenience – a scrap of metal he could easily crush.

Ilion held Cyrene, who cried and begged not to go, his emotions a complicated tangle. He understood her, but there were moments when he couldn’t help but resent her. Why did she cling to Areos so desperately? He knew only too well that the Crown Prince was like a god in Cyrene’s life, but that knowledge didn’t ease the sting in his chest.

“It’s alright.”

Her sobs seeped into his chest, and beneath his hand, he felt her small back trembling uncontrollably. Ilion clenched his eyes shut, trying to block out the sweet scent of her skin that lingered faintly in the air around her.

His heart pounded heavily, a visceral reminder of the pull she had over him. Like Areos before him, Ilion, too, found himself sexually drawn to Cyrene. But he knew this couldn’t continue. He had to put an end to it—draw a firm line and define their relationship as one of siblings, nothing more.

His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer as she clung to him, burying herself in his embrace. His lips hovered near her, but no words escaped them.

‘…I’m just as mad as the rest of them. There’s no denying it.’

A bitter smile flickered across Ilion’s lips. In the end, he couldn’t summon the strength to tell her the truth—that they were siblings. Instead, he allowed it to remain buried in the shallow darkness, where the truth would never see the light.

His hand moved gently through her smooth hair as he pressed his lips together, suppressing the words that he couldn’t, and perhaps never would, say.