They walked to the old creek on the edge of the estate, a place hidden by weeping willows and smooth, moss-covered stones. It was the place where they had spent their childhood summers.
Riru had come prepared. She had changed into a modest, light linen chemise-a sleeveless white tunic that reached her knees, layered over short breeches. It was the traditional swimming attire for noble girls, practical and airy.
Without warning, Riru scooped up a handful of the crystalline water and sent a massive spray toward the bank. Splat. "Brother! It's been so long since we did this!" she shrieked, her laughter echoing off the rocks. "Mom hasn't let me leave the house in days. If I stay inside any longer, I'll turn into a mushroom!"
Karas and Zaliyah sat on the lush grass, the water soaking into their expensive silks.
"Unlike you, we don't have an outfit change, Ri," Zaliyah said, wiping a droplet from his nose. His voice held a rare, playful lightness.
"You should listen to him," Karas added, though he was already beginning to unlace his boots. "Some of us prefer to stay dry."
Riru pouted, her hands on her hips as she stood knee-deep in the current. "Classic Brother Karas. You would never change-always siding with brother Zi"
Zaliyah giggled, a sound so pure it felt like music. "And you would never change, Ri. Always complaining."
"Come on, Brother Zi! Join me!" She splashed him again, more aggressively this time.
Zaliyah stood up, his purple eyes sparkling. He shed his heavy outer robe, revealing the thin, white silk undergarments beneath. He took off toward the water, his long, snowy hair catching the wind like a silken banner.
As he ran, the sunlight hit his pale skin, making him look less like a boy and more like an ethereal spirit born from the mist.
"I won't spare you, you little potato!" Zaliyah laughed, leaping into the river with a grace that defied his recent illness. He hit the water and immediately began a fierce splashing war with Riru, their giggles filling the air.
Karas watched them for a moment, his heart swelling. Then, unable to resist, he shed his own robes. "Move over, both of you," he growled playfully before launching himself into the river. The resulting splash was so large it nearly drenched the willow trees.
Deep within the shifting shadows of the willow grove, two figures stood as silent as death.
Malachi leaned against a gnarled trunk, his dark wings tucked tightly against his back to avoid the light. He wore a dark, open-front shirt that exposed the rugged, carved lines of his chest and torso. His black curls fell over his brow, framing eyes that burned with a cold, predatory focus.
Beside him stood Uphior, his expression unreadable.
"I've never seen him smile like this," Uphior whispered, watching Zaliyah dunk Riru under the water. "He seems so..."
"Happy," Malachi finished the word for him, his voice like grinding stones.
"I didn't mean that, Your Majesty," Uphior corrected quickly, sensing the tension.
Malachi's gaze moved to Karas, who was currently lifting Zaliyah onto his shoulders to help him win the water fight. "What does he see in him?" Malachi mused, his jaw tightening. "Humans are weak. Flimsy. Unable to protect their own even when the sun is shining."
"Humans are frail creatures, Your Majesty," Uphior answered softly. "Quite different from us. Their understanding of 'protection' is rooted in presence, not power. It is... different."
"He is far from human," Malachi snapped, his eyes flashing silver. "But growing up among these sheep has made him soft. It has made him weak."
"Should I grab him?" Uphior asked, his hand hovering near his blade.
Malachi let out a low, dark chuckle. "And destroy this little family reunion? How brutal of you, Uphior. No. Let him have his sunlight. The dark will be waiting when he returns."
"The whole kingdom is talking, Your Majesty," Uphior warned. "This absence is breathing room for the Council . They will use his 'escape' to claim you have lost your grip on the throne."
"Do you doubt my grip, Uphior?" Malachi turned, the sheer pressure of his aura making the leaves around them wither and turn to ash.
"I dare not, Your Majesty," Uphior bowed his head.
They watched in silence as the siblings eventually tired. They had swimming competitions-which Zaliyah won by a hair, followed closely by Riru-before they collapsed onto the grass to let the sun dry their clothes.
They watched the sky turn from gold to violet, blissfully unaware that a King was counting their heartbeats from the dark.
The warmth of the afternoon vanished the moment they reached the Ruo Han gates. Rica, the head servant, was standing by the door, her face a mask of absolute terror.
"Elder Master Karas... Master Zaliyah," she stammered, her voice shaking. "You must go to the main hall. Immediately."
They walked in to find the house smelling of expensive incense and cold iron. Standing in the center of the hall was High Official Yan, a man whose reputation for "purifying" the city was legendary. He was flanked by four guards in silver plate.
"Young Master Zaliyah Ruo Han," Yan said, his voice clipped and soulless. "I have heard reports of a 'miraculous recovery' and 'unnatural displays' of energy. This council does not take kindly to secrets."
Karas stepped forward, his damp hair still sticking to his neck. "He is ill, Official. Not a criminal."
"Is that so?" Yan stepped toward Zaliyah, his eyes narrowing. "Then explain the rumors of the 'Black Mark.' Explain why Master Eros's men were found turned to cinders."
Yan reached out, his gloved hand grabbing Zaliyah's wrist with a strength that made the boy gasp. "Show me your hands, boy. If your blood is clean, you have nothing to fear. If it is tainted... well, the community has fires for that."
Zaliyah froze, his breath hitching. He looked at Karas, then at the Official. Slowly, Yan peeled back Zaliyah's sleeve, revealing the dark, spider-webbing veins of the Night-Stalker poison creeping up his arm.
"Explain this," Yan hissed, his eyes wide with a mix of disgust and triumph. "Is this the mark of a 'sick' boy, or the rot of a demon?"
"It's an infection from the woods!" Karas shouted, stepping between them.
"An infection?" Yan laughed, dropping Zaliyah's hand as if it were a poisonous snake. "This is the shadow of the Underworld. You will come with us to the Citadel for 'interrogation.' If you resist, Master Karas, I will have your father's title stripped before the moon reaches its peak."
Zaliyah looked at his trembling hands, the happiness of the river already feeling like a dream from a different life. The "Scandal" had finally arrived at their door, and this time, Karas's words wouldn't be enough to stop it