TTQI 3

“…….”

Aion’s mind was so tangled that he couldn’t muster the courage to lift his head.

The prince, who had moments ago been struggling like a tomboy to escape, now stood docile as a lamb, prompting Zizlon to smile gently. This reinforced his belief that the figure wasn’t fleeing from some crime. She was probably a spirited young lady who wanted to see the festival without her father’s knowledge. Finding her oddly endearing, Zizlon spoke in a voice brimming with unconcealed affection.

“I’m sorry for suddenly embracing you. Were you very startled?”

The figure remained motionless. Zizlon wondered how frightened she must be to act this way, but time was too short to comfort her leisurely. With an awkward expression, he carefully pushed her shoulders back and gently replaced the hood he had removed.

At that moment, Aion was startled by the unexpectedly delicate touch on his head. Caught in a strange mood, he looked up as if enchanted. His eyes met a sequence of silver armor, a red surcoat, broad shoulders, and finally, the face of a handsome young man. The masculine, striking features of the youth sparkled with kind blue eyes as he smiled brightly.

In that instant, Aion was surprised by the unexpectedly honest appearance. Then, he was startled by a strange tremor starting in his chest. His mind gradually grew hazy. Despite being complete strangers meeting for the first time today, those eyes held such warm affection that Aion momentarily wondered if they knew each other, a foolish doubt.

“This place is generally safe, but with so many outsiders around during this time, you should be careful. And if possible, it’s better to walk boldly on the main streets rather than in alleys.”

The man didn’t hesitate to offer unsolicited advice. Did he just save me? Does he know who I am? Aion wondered, bewildered. Perhaps because the man was so bright and gallant, Aion felt his own presence shrinking. An unusually large wave of emotion surged within him. Something was off. Something was going wrong.

The man kept talking, annoyingly persistent.

“People around here don’t usually dress like that. There are many foreigners on the main streets, so blending in with them would make you less conspicuous, and it’s safer with more people around. Well, I have urgent business, so I’ll take my leave.”

Aion, a beat late, realized this trembling in his chest was no ordinary emotion. For the first time in his life, his thoughts slowed as if he’d become a fool. The pounding of his heart shook his vision and made his mind dizzy. The man’s face was too vividly clear. As the man finished speaking and smiled, Aion’s heart suddenly sank.

Lost in the ecstasy of love, Aion couldn’t regain his composure, but the man callously didn’t wait for him to recover. When the knight pushed Aion away, a fresh scent like the plains’ breeze emanated from him.

Aion, in disbelief, could only watch as the man bowed. The man said something to him. He seemed about to leave. It was absurd. Surely, he wouldn’t just leave like this. The first man to deceive Aion’s lofty heart couldn’t possibly walk away so casually. In all his years, no man who saw him ever gave up cleanly. They all lost themselves in his beauty, begging for a sliver of love. If that failed, they at least struggled to leave their name in Aion’s memory before parting. Yet, the man who captured his heart was turning away without regret—such a cruel fate couldn’t exist.

But the man smiled brightly, turned coldly, and put on his helmet, hiding his beautiful blonde hair completely. A cheerful, carefree voice rang out.

“Farewell.”

The cloak swayed peacefully behind him. Humming a tune, the man walked away before Aion could grab him. In that brief moment, as Aion stood in disbelief, the man vanished. A mere few seconds of meeting had stirred a storm in Aion’s heart.

“…….”

Aion slowly placed his hand on the shoulder where the man had touched him. As if questioning whether the encounter was a dream, he stood there, staring long in the direction the man had gone. Looking back later, it was true. Love came to someone as cunning as Aion like a fool.

*

Having safely reunited with Pym, Aion sat before a mirror in his room.

“Your Highness, you have no idea how worried I was… Really, when the maids said we couldn’t delay any longer and had to start preparing, I thought it was all over.”

It was about an hour before the wedding. Pym was lamenting beside him, his face full of distress. Just minutes ago, maids preparing Aion had swept through the room like a storm.

Aion, fully adorned after a battle-like preparation, sat before the mirror. Already beautiful, the meticulously dressed Aion looked like a god descended to earth. But in stark contrast, his powdered white face was chillingly expressionless.

“Later, the maids tried to force the door open, so I locked it and staged a sit-in, saying I wouldn’t marry without my servant.”

Pym, full of grievances, chattered endlessly.

“They pushed the door in a frenzy and searched the entire palace for ‘my servant.’ Haha, that’s you, Your Highness. But maybe that’s how we found you so quickly?”

“Pym.”

“Maybe I did my job well… Yes?”

“Be quiet.”

“…….”

The cold voice silenced the room instantly. Pym bit his lip, his face contorted, while Aion, satisfied with the quiet, adjusted his hair.

Gazing at his reflection, Aion was lost in thought. The image of the mysterious knight who had embraced him and smiled like a painting floated in his mind. Since their parting, the knight had lingered in Aion’s thoughts, plunging him into a strange mood he’d never felt before. His mind was so unsettled that he couldn’t focus on the impending wedding.

Suddenly, Aion spoke.

“Pym, stroke my hair.”

“What?”

Pym, doubting his ears, was startled.

“How could I dare…?”

Aion stared at Pym through the mirror without a word. Though his master was always inscrutable, this was the first time the cold Aion had made such a strange request. Pym hesitated, wondering if it was a prank, but seeing Aion’s urging gaze, he reluctantly raised his hand.

Pym nervously placed his hand on Aion’s head, carefully moving it to avoid mussing the neatly arranged hair ornaments. All the while, he watched Aion’s expression in the mirror. After a moment, Aion said,

“Stop. That’s enough.”

As Aion pushed his hand away, Pym cautiously asked,

“Did I do it wrong…?”

Aion, already lost in thought, didn’t answer.

Unlike the knight, Pym’s touch evoked no feelings. Aion vaguely confirmed the nature of the suspicious fluttering in his chest.

He thought fate was truly cruel. Never having felt his heart race for anyone, he met such a person on his wedding day. If there was a god, it could only be a trap.

Fortunately, as a royal, Aion was bound to obey the court’s laws. He wasn’t the type to grab another’s hand and flee the wedding for such a fleeting emotion. Coldly, Aion prepared to bury his feelings as soon as he recognized love.

There could be a workaround. Nobles often found love through unconventional means. In the shadows of the world, there were many less-than-noble, less-than-sublime loves. Judging by the knight’s fine appearance and authority over the soldiers, he was likely a high-ranking palace knight. But he was still a servant of the court. Living in the same palace, Aion could, with cunning use of his queenly status, summon him to his bed at midnight.

The queen paused, chuckling softly. Having seen much in the royal court, he had always thought the basest love was the love of nobles. Yet, he never imagined he’d become one of them.

‘Come to think of it, I didn’t even get his name.’

Without a name, meeting him again would be difficult. Perhaps that was for the best. Aion hoped never to encounter him again. He didn’t want to sneak around like other foolish nobles, nor risk danger for something as silly as love. Nor would he commission a painter to capture the man’s likeness and secretly pine over it like a thief. Aion hoped that, if he never saw him again, time would gradually erase him from memory.

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

“Your Highness Aion, the ceremony is about to begin. Please come out.”

*

“With the witnesses here and God, I declare these two bound in marriage…”

The wedding proceeded in a solemn atmosphere. In the apse of the palace cathedral, the King of Yonaras and the breathtakingly beautiful fifth prince of Komnena stood facing each other. Verka, a monk from the royal family, stood between them, reciting the marriage vows. The nobles, invited as witnesses and guests, lined both sides.

The King of Yonaras seemed captivated by his bride’s stunning beauty. His wrinkled face beamed with a smile, gazing only at his bride throughout the ceremony. Even as the priest recited the vows, his focus on the bride was evident.

In contrast, Aion stared only at his feet. Throughout the ceremony, he maintained a calm, cold demeanor. Like a lake undisturbed by ripples, his heart held no taste, scent, or form. His expression was equally dry. When the priest asked if he would love his groom, he answered shortly, “Yes.” But his striking beauty transformed his cold indifference into a beautiful mystique.

As Monk Verka declared them married, the choir began singing hymns. The dignified guests on both sides applauded, celebrating the king’s marriage. Amid the blessings filling the cathedral, the king and bride joined hands, and the bride followed the king toward the entrance. The guests stepped aside to the aisles, clapping as they watched. Aion didn’t refuse the king’s cautious hand. The couple, holding hands gently, walked toward the light pouring through the open doors.

“My queen.”

The king whispered.

“You are now a member of the Yonaras royal family and will receive the highest honor. I, too, will respect and love you as my wife.”

“Yes.”

Aion replied without emotion, staring at the doors.

“Don’t feel intimidated and embrace your rights as my family. Though we are king and queen, I wish for no formality between family. Do you know I have a son?”

“I know.”

“His name is Zizlon. It might be startling to suddenly have a son, but as far as I know, he’s only a few years older than you. It would be nice if you could be friends. Though he’s my son, he’s broad-minded and understanding, and he’ll do his best to make you feel at ease.”

“Yes.”

“He’s probably among the guests… Ah, there he is. Look to the left. The one clapping at the front is my son, Zizlon.”

The king whispered in Aion’s ear.

Aion, unthinkingly, looked in the direction the king indicated and was struck as if by lightning. At the end of the king’s gaze stood a painfully familiar figure. None other than the blonde knight who had saved Aion. Dressed in red ceremonial robes, the man, clapping with surprised eyes, gave Aion a playful wink as their eyes met. That smile held many meanings—surprise, delight, and a secretive signal shared between those who held a secret.

The heart that had been regaining its calm was viciously ambushed. Aion’s heart crumbled, unable to withstand it. Amid the agonizing pounding, he felt a dreadful despair. As Aion swayed slightly with dizziness, the king’s hand steadied him, reminding him of his presence.

Leaving the cathedral, the king, his spouse, and the royal guard rode out of the palace. Outside, a massive crowd had gathered to celebrate the sacred union and see the rumored queen. As the doors opened and the royal couple appeared, men and women of all ages were awestruck by the queen’s otherworldly beauty.

“Hail His Majesty the King! Hail Her Majesty the beautiful Queen!”

The people fell in love with the queen in an instant. Her beauty held such terrifying allure. Our beautiful queen, like a jewel from God. As the monk who recited the vows had said, her beauty was proof this marriage was a sacred bond ordained by God.

Glory to Yonaras’s future, the people cheered with joy. As the couple’s procession marched through the streets, people scattered flowers and clapped. The kind king waved and smiled in response.

Amid the fervor, only the queen maintained a lofty dignity. Sitting upright on her horse, she kept an expressionless face, neither smiling nor crying. Her heavily powdered face, devoid of life, was somber, and her blank expression was as inanimate as a statue. But the ecstatic crowd, drunk on the festival’s energy and the queen’s beauty, noticed no dissonance.