a/n; sorry for the wait! also please be patient for Silas and MC to be reunited <3 thank you for all the support so far— it's incredible and I appreciate all of you. do vote on the chapter and comment as it really motivates me and helps me update faster!

—

Silas never got why you were always so pessimistic about growing up, but now he understood.

In the days since you had left, he found himself clutching onto things of sentimental value. There were the drawings and poems you had written for him, all old and battered now but still plastered on the walls of his room. There was the smell of blueberry pie that reminded him of you, and there were the engravings on the tree and the origami that still hung from its branches.

Silas didn't know it then, but that would be the last time that you would ever fold an origami. Silas didn't know it then, but that would be the last time that you would draw silly shapes on your paper and laugh at them. Silas didn't know it then, but that would be the last drawing and poem that you would give him.

It wasn't much about growing up that Silas didn't like; it was more of the time passing. He missed you unbearably: he needed you with him. Silas wanted to keep missing you more and more, as that would assure him that you had not been some existence that he had dreamed up: you were real, and Silas had loved you, and you had loved him. His love for you was still in the present tense, and that was how it would remain.

Silas wondered how you were faring alone with the woman who had hurt you the most. You were sensitive, but not in a negative way. You were sensitive in the way where you would care too much about people's problems and feel too much for them. There had been the injured squirrel that you had tried taking care of last time, and when it had died, you had sobbed for days. You, being sensitive, suffered more. But you were also loved more, and you were also more flighty, more dreamy.

Silas would kill those who took that away from you. He wanted you to be happy. He wanted you to continue to have those big aspirations and unwavering happiness. And Silas didn't want you to come back from those six years all gloomy like and upset.

How long had it been since you had left Silas? One year? Two years?

Ah, yes. Two years. Silas had been thirteen when you left, and now he was the age that you were when you disappeared from the palace.

He still remembered the weather then. The day you had left, there was torrential downpour. The second thing that had come to his mind was: did you catch a cold? I hope you didn't get sick. It had been so cold there, and so empty, but Silas had loved you despite the betrayal. And now it was stifling, still empty, and Silas loved you still, and the love would grow bigger and bigger.

Silas was aware that you were the world, and he was orbiting around you. You were the sun, and he was flying way too close to you, his wax wings melting. His body was burning. But that made him feel alive; he wanted scars and blisters to prove that he had been loved by you.

Three years ago, during this time, you had been wandering around the woods with him.

Four years ago, you two were trying to balance Elias on Daisy while stifling giggles.

Five years ago, Silas and you had bathed in the water with your clothes, and that got you in trouble with the maids. But they could never be too angry at you — you were too delightful, too sweet, and you melted the hearts of everyone around you.

He still remembered what he had told you. ("You're too lovely," Silas had said, "too sweet. Too beautiful. Too kind.") And even now, that applied. Silas dearly hoped that you weren't charming the hearts of the people back home.

Years and years had passed since Silas had been six. And yet the image of you, eight, stretching your arm towards him whilst he was covered in blood was still fresh in his mind.

In a blink of an eye, you two had grown up. At first, Silas had scoffed at your fear of growing up. He thought that you two had years stretching in front of you, and that time would pass by blissfully slowly.

But it hadn't. And in fact, when Silas was eleven, the world shifted. It wasn't just him in your world anymore: there was Silvia. The girl who even Silas's father had warned him about.

Silas knew. Silas knew that she liked you, and that she had a big fat crush on you. Silas knew that you liked her to a certain degree, and he knew too, that you were the kind that couldn't say no to others.

But Silas knew too, that he was your favourite person in the whole world.

Silvia and him had bumped into each other in the corridors before, and while there hadn't been outright resentment or hostility, there had been the startling chill between the both of them. Were they considered friends once? With you, they were akin to a trio. Like a sandwich. But now without you to hold them together, they were like two pieces of bread that just didn't go along with each other.

But on that day that Silas found himself missing you especially much, he found Silvia outside his room, sweeping mindlessly away at the dust — she was always been assigned to that corner to clean. She had been affected by your absence too, and many times, she looked as lost and upset as Silas was.

I wonder if you know. Y/n, Silas thought, of the amount of people here who cherish and adore you.

I wonder if you feel loved in your house, when you have spent majority of your life being loved by me.

I wonder if you regret your decision to leave, or if you hate me for doing such reckless actions.

I wonder if you think I forced you to leave because of what I did.

I wonder if you miss me, Y/n, as much as I miss you.

Silas didn't know if Silvia had managed to hear the full story of what had truly transpired that made you leave, but either way, part of her probably blamed Silas for your absence. Silas blamed himself too.

Their eyes flickered to one another. Silas caught the way Silvia's shoulders tensed up, and the way she seemed to freeze.

"Long time no talk," Silas opened his mouth to speak to Silvia, startling her. "It has been two years since we last spoke, right?"

Silvia was immediately cautious. Why was the prince speaking to her out of his own volition? While Silas had never been mean to her straight up, she knew that the prince didn't like her that much — found her annoying, even.

"Yes, Your Highness." Was all that she could reply. Silvia's words were stuck in her throat, and it was like they had to travel up a pebble lodged in her throat to spill from her lips. "...What's wrong?"

Silas stared at her for a little longer. You were seventeen now, right? He would be absolutely furious if you came back with a girlfriend attached to your hip. Come to think of it again, what was your type? Had you ever specified if you liked men or women? Were you the kind to care? For Silas, gender didn't matter. He had loved your soul, and your appearance simply came as a bonus. It just so happened that the person he loved — you — was a male.

Silas frowned.

Silvia was quite pretty from an objective viewpoint. Her hair had gotten long, and her green eyes sparkled like emeralds. She had dainty manners and was gracious too — she made for a powerful contender. And besides, she was the same age as Silas.

"I thought of killing you before," Silas said flatly, smiling loosely at her. "The day you barged into my peaceful life with Y/n, I felt incredibly annoyed."

Silvia's eyes widened, and her lips parted before she pressed them into a rigid line again. Silas continued without a care in the world.

"That was the first time his attention was on someone else besides me. And well, I'm pretty sure that Y/n loves me a-lot more than you, but knowing him..." Silas trailed off. His eyes were like ice, Silvia thought. They were like icy daggers cutting through her skin. She shivered.

"Before, I found you tolerable. It's been four years since we met, right? You haven't done anything bad to me, so you have been fine to deal with. But you love Y/n, right?"

Should I say no? Should I deny it? Silvia thought desperately, but wouldn't His Highness be even angrier if I did so? I'm sure my feelings are apparent.

"Yes, Your Highness," Silvia murmured out.

"I thought so," Silas sighed, "and come to think of it, what you harbor for him isn't even a childish crush. You love him; genuinely. How annoying."

"...."

"The better answer would be to kill you, right?" Silas gave a sudden smile, the ends of his lips tugging up. "To get rid of any potential threats."

"Y-Your Highness —" Silvia started, trembling. She knew Silas was the kind of person who would actually murder. She was too young to die! She was —

Silas blinked. "Ah, just kidding. Y/n would kill me if I killed you, and that too aggravates me. But you know the kind of person Y/n is, right? He's too sweet and kind. If you ever confess to him, he might accept, Silvia. And if he ever does that, would you go out with him? In four years time when he returns, we shall all be adults. Marriage and courtship will be on our minds."

"That..." Silvia couldn't say anything. The wise thing would be to deny, deny, and deny. But if you did accept her feelings, then...

What would she do?

"I love him," Silas said suddenly. "I love Y/n."

"I know, Your Highness."

"You have your mother. Father. Friends," Silas continued on, "but I only have Y/n. I only have him, Silvia. I adore him — I know I love him more than you. It's a daring statement, but it's true. He is the one who has given me life. He is my life, Silvia. From the very start, he has been the one breathing life to my existence."

How could one measure love? It was not a quantifier. It couldn't exactly be compared. And yet when Silvia saw the burning, raw passion in Silas's eyes, she wondered if her eyes looked dull and dim compared to his.

"I know, Your Highness," Silvia said painfully. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for? Because you think you'll date him if he accepts your feelings? Is that it?"

"Y/n will not accept my feelings."

Silas gritted his teeth. "Anything can happen. Anything," he said with venom laced in his tone.

"I'm aware of that too, Your Highness," Silvia's cheeks pinkened. "But Y/n..."

"Forget it," Silas cast one more look at her, exhaling, "forget I even said anything in the first place." Turning fully away from Silvia, Silas entered the room and closed the door behind him.

Flashes of his childhood crossed his mind again. Of him, on the grass, cuddling with you. You had been the one to initiate the touch, and Silas was always thankful for that. And of Silvia next to you two, her presence known.

That year — with her — it hadn't been that bad. It was a pity, really, because Silvia did have her share of useful and endearing moments, such as when she would make Silas and you your favorite dessert treats. If only she didn't like you, then things would have been a lot easier.

Silas found him missing for the past once more, despite him wanting to grow up in his early years.

—

PAST

"What's the new servant's girl's name again?" Casper threw the ball across the field, watching it as it plopped into the waters. He made no effort to retrieve it, and when Ralph shifted to stand up, he pulled him down with a don't bother with it look.

"Why?" Ralph knitted his eyebrows, "are you interested?"

"No. But I heard you were interested in her," Casper said casually, but his eyes glinted dangerously. "I heard that apparently, my dear butler here has been conversing quite a bit with Sarah."

"So you do know her name."

Casper shrugged. "I thought I would have an excuse to kill her if her name rolled off your tongue. It's quite unpleasant, isn't it? Sa-rah. Two syllables. That's quite a mouthful."

"Your name has two syllables too," Ralph pointed out with exasperation. "All we did was talk."

"Right. I heard you two talked for an hour."

...Did he? Ralph couldn't really recall. But it turned out that Sarah and him had quite a bit in common, so they had conversed quite naturally and well. Sarah was an easy conversationalist — she made for a good, easy talker. The conversation had been light and pleasant.

"I didn't know it was that long of a conversation."

There was a pause.

"I'm sorry," Ralph added, sighing. "But you were busy, anyway."

"So? You were supposed to be with me," Casper emphasized, "with me, Ralph. You don't leave your master alone to talk with a servant girl, of all people."

"Need I remind you that I'm also a servant?"

"That's different," Casper said flippantly, "you're the future Emperor's servant."

"You're just jealous." Ralph retorted.

"Yes, I am. Did I ever deny it?" Casper reached forward to tangle his hands in Ralph's hair, yanking it. That elicited a yelp from Ralph as he shot Casper a dirty look, frowning.

"Hey!"

"I prefer your hair when it's messy," Casper said simply, "why do you need to have those hairstyles?"

"For my job," Ralph said, irritated. He didn't like it when Casper got all insulting and cutting. "If you don't want to talk with me, then shut up."

"You don't speak to me like that."

"Right," Ralph scoffed. "Because you want a servant and a friend at the same time. Those don't go hand in hand. Are you jealous of Sarah? Are you jealous because it seems like I'm talking more with here than —"

"I'll kill her," Casper interrupted. Ralph froze and he turned to look at Casper's face, suddenly seeing the look of seriousness written all over his features. "I'll kill her, Ralph."

There was a brief silence.

"Oh, just kidding," Casper said cheerfully, "you should have seen the look on your face. But now I'm really considering whether I should exterminate her from the earth. She's getting too annoying."

"She hasn't done anything to you."

"You know she has."

...Right. But Ralph liked talking with Sarah. With Sarah, the atmosphere was never so heavy. Ralph didn't have to bear the weight of someone's oppressive and brutal love on his shoulders. Ralph felt sorry for Casper for loving him. He had millions of flaws and faults; and Ralph was convinced that he was simply someone that couldn't be loved easily. The reason why there was friction in their relationship was sorely because of him. Sarah made those worries disappear momentarily. She was a wonderful friend; and Ralph was comforted by the fact that she didn't love him like Casper did. She didn't love him at all. It was a friendship that could and would stay platonic, and Ralph wouldn't have to be burdened by her feelings.

"Did she, now?" Ralph asked.

"Do you know what I heard her telling the other maids before? She said; I would have to die to get Ralph's attention, but all the prince had to do was look at him and Ralph would scamper right over. She wants you, and he's jealous of me. She wants your attention. Grow up, Ralph. She has a crush on you."

"She doesn't," Ralph persisted stubbornly. "Stop this."

"You're the kind of person who finds comfort in being unloved," Casper laughed cruelly, "but look, Sarah loves you. She has a crush on you, and it's not puppy love."

"You're seeing things," Ralph said uneasily.

"I am not. I am warning you, Ralph."

"You —!"

But Ralph couldn't complete the sentence. Casper had completely turned away from him, instead giving Ralph what he loathed and yet welcomed the most: silence.

Ralph closed his eyes and exhaled. A headache was brewing in his head.

—

PRESENT

"It's been quiet in the palace for quite a long time," Casper looked out of the window, his eyes roaming to the gardens. During the two years that you had left, the garden's grass had grown. In fact, it was rather odd not to hear your loud yells across the corridors, as well as the hustle and bustle of the servants that milled about. You had created a rather light and warm atmosphere during the time that you had been around, and now as you left, that atmosphere left too.

"Don't tell me you're missing it."

"I'm really not," Casper smiled. "I was glad to see that woman go."

"I've already divorced her. What more do you want?" Ralph said tiredly, "why are you so demanding? Why do you keep looking for more and more and more? What else do you lack?"

Casper narrowed his eyes. "Who cares if you divorced her? She still slept with you, and I realize that I'm still frighteningly angry about that."

"Your Majesty, I..."

"When did everything start to go wrong?" Casper lamented, "it must have been when she appeared."

"You don't get to blame everything on her," Ralph murmured, exhausted. "You don't get to, when it was you who..."

"So you're blameless for everything? Those are moments that we will never get back because of her. There are conversations that never happened because of her. There was communication that —"

"Communication is nothing without comprehension," Ralph interrupted, "do you know of the amount of times that I tried to explain myself? You talk about comprehension, but you yourself don't want to communicate and comprehend what's happening. You just disappear for hours then come back as if nothing happened, pretending that things are fine, when they are not. You are the one that caused numerous misunderstandings between us. Even now, when I try to open my mouth, you choose to ignore me."

"Because that's what a servant should be, right?" Casper taunted. "To be seen, and not heard. Your job is easy."

"My job is terribly hard serving you," Ralph said coldly, "you, Your Majesty, have ruined my life."

"You'll come to regret saying that," Casper said softly. "You know you don't mean that. I have brought you happiness, Ralph, happiness that you don't dare to admit to yourself. Because what's the thing that you struggle with the most? Ah, right. Being loved. It's amusing to see how your son craves love so badly, and yet his very father shies away from it. Was your father that terrible to make you scared of it?"

"You were the one who made it hard for me to fathom the idea of being loved. Your love for me was so ridiculously heavy; so burdensome."

"Again, my feelings are hurt," Casper mused. "You pain me."

Ralph rolled your eyes. "Don't you have better things to talk about? Or don't you have better things to do, like the growing pile of documents on your table? Why are you putting everything off?"

"I don't feel like doing it," Casper said simply. "Attending meetings...talking with the foolish officials...having to finish all these tiresome documents and nonsense...this life is horrible. Being the Emperor is terribly lonesome."

Casper had a faraway look in his eyes. Ralph knew that Casper liked reminiscing and dwelling on old moments; it was his way to escape his suffocating and stifling life. Thinking of the past allowed him to visit somewhere else. The Emperor was growing more unsteady by the day, and the way he lived, it was like each day was his last. Though having aged gracefully, his eyes seemed endlessly dull, like it had been splashed with black paint.

Ralph didn't like seeing that. Though Casper's personality hadn't changed that much from young — except perhaps it had gotten worse — there had always been the faintest glint of light present in his eyes. But now, it was completely different. His eyes spoke of a fruitless existence that he was tired of living.

"I thought it would feel like a victory to you," Ralph said quietly. "'Me divorcing Sarah. And yet you still seem as lifeless as you are."

Casper's eyes flickered to Ralph. He didn't jest, like he would normally have. He seemed tired of jokes, and instead a slow smile spread on his face.

"What's done is done," he said slowly, "the fact doesn't change that you married her and betrayed me. The fact doesn't change that I had to see you with another person that wasn't me. I almost had you, Ralph. Almost. I was prepared to change and atone for everything I did."

"Your Majesty —"

"Almost," Casper repeated, "do you know what that feels like? I loved you, and I almost had you. There's nothing worse than wasted potential. We could have been so much more than we were, Ralph. We could have been..." he trailed off. The smile disappeared.

Ralph stilled.

"As expected. I will always be furious at Sarah. The urge to kill her grows stronger everyday. She is so terribly selfish. All it took was a simple no. She could have brought you to your senses; she could have told you who you truly loved. But that couldn't be the case, I suppose. She had to be greedy." Casper said slowly. "Greediness — to a certain extent, I can understand. But coveting what is mine — that is a foolish action."

"You were greedy too, when you did all that you did to me." Ralph said softly.

"I was greedy, but my greed was warranted. I had to be greedy, or I would never be able to obtain what was truly mine. I don't suppose that you'll understand."

"Understand? Of course I don't," Ralph said, baffled, "I don't understand you. Not your words, nor your actions. There was once I understood you. But that was before you became crueler, more malicious. That was before you started dismissing my words like they meant nothing to you. At least before, you cared enough to pretend to listen. But now, you don't even care — you don't even care about anything! Not your son, not your life, not me —"

"You're right in some aspects," Casper interrupted, "I don't care about my son, unfortunately. I don't care about my life. But I do care about you, Ralph. From day one, from the time we met at twelve — I have always cared about you.

Ralph smiled wryly. "You don't show it well enough."

"I do, but you're blind."

"I used to be scared of getting older when I was a kid," Ralph told him. "And now I see that my fears are valid. You robbed me of my life, Your Majesty. If it wasn't for my position, I would have never met you. I would have lived a normal life. I would have a child and wife to love. I would have been happier, Your Majesty. Are you happy? You claim you care for me, but it seems that I've only put you through endless misery."

"I am happy," Casper confirmed, "as much as I can be, anyway. I am tormentingly and disgustingly happier with you."

"Well, I am not," Ralph swallowed, "I could have been alive, free, joyful — but you snatched my heart away from me and you didn't just break it, Your Majesty, you slaughtered it. Murdered it. You made me into this!"

"All of this anger towards me," Casper said calmly, "remember that it was once affection and unbridled love. I think your anger is misplaced. It should be targeted at the Gods; at the curse; at Sarah. Or maybe towards yourself. Some part of you regrets saying yes to her."

"We were doomed to begin with," Ralph sighed.

"And our children will be too," Casper added.

There was a brief moment of silence before Ralph shook his head. "No, they won't be."

"Is this a father's love? Wishing the best for your child?"

"It's a guess," Ralph said softly, "it's merely a gut feeling. Because if my guess is correct and that the curse is caused by that — it would mean that they are safe. But even if the curse is not triggered, even if the curse is broken — your neglect for your son will turn him into a monster that will create a cycle. A cycle that will continue even if the curse is gone."

"You speak in riddles," Casper mused. "You speak like you are so wise, so all-knowing. But where was this foolish wisdom when Sarah professed her love to you?"

Ralph didn't know. He knew that it had been his fault, and that fact killed him. He hadn't just robbed himself of his own happiness — he had robbed Sarah of her own life, too. It had been one word: no. One syllable. Two letters. It was so simple. And yet still, Ralph had been unable to say it. All his life, he had been chasing after people's validation and love, and now that mistake had caused him great sadness and pain.

He wondered if it would have been better to die and end it. His existence made no difference to the world. Once, Ralph had been thrilled at seeing Casper's talents in both swordsmanship and mana, marveling that Casper would become a great Emperor that he would take pride in serving — but now, Casper was nothing but an ordinary Emperor. Someone who did his duties, someone who performed them like it was a tiresome routine.

The bright, shimmering future that Ralph had envisioned for the both of them had crumbled down to nothing. It was nothing grandiose; nothing fun. Nothing exciting. But then again, Ralph had always had a rather brilliant imagination. Perhaps the thought of Casper becoming a marvelous Emperor who would rule the world had been a child's desire, or a figment of his poorly conceived imagination.

There was nothing for Ralph to live for, except for his son — you — who was technically a stranger to him. You, who Ralph had treated so cruelly and roughly as you were growing up. You, who was slowly growing up to be like him. You, who Ralph sincerely wished would find happiness.

You, who had clutched at his fingers as a baby and who had let out the most adorable giggles.

It was too late to be a good father, when it was obvious that you hated him.

It was too late for Ralph to make amends, or to live the life he had wanted to live. It was too late for him to fulfill all of the childhood moments that he had once harbored in his heart. There had been the dances, the engravings, the drawings, the poems —

His childhood had once been so delightful with the Emperor, and yet now, the only thing that Ralph could look forward to was his own death.

Was it so incredibly selfish for him to want a happy future that he didn't deserve?

—

hope everyone enjoyed!

so a clarification; yes, Ralph and Casper do know how the curse works. Except that while Casper knows how to break the curse as well as how it's triggered, Ralph doesn't know any of that, and simply knows of its existence (which is why he's seen very briefly to be theorising about the curse and how it's broken or caused)

Ralph also knows something that Casper doesn't, so in a nutshell they r just a couple with horrible communication skills lol

well I'll be able to update faster soon! stay patient for Silas's and MC's reunion (I'm looking forward to writing that yay) and let's see how things go

how was it?