Chapter 2 - Sleeping King

Translator's Note:

Hello, I hope you've all been doing well

Here you go, and I wish you a good read.

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The scent hung so thick in the air because the roses had been disturbed. The white roses that Fisé had brought into bloom—those same roses that Spencer always praised for their beauty—were now being treated like nothing more than bothersome weeds.

 

Fisé could tell he wasn't harming them on purpose. Whatever he was searching for, he had no intention of hurting the flowers.

 

And yet, a strange pain bloomed in his chest—one he had never felt before.

 

It took him courage to speak, but he couldn't bear to watch the roses be scattered so carelessly without saying something.

 

"Spencer… is something wrong? Are you looking for something important?"

 

Yes—that must be it. He must have lost something terribly precious.

 

Something so dear that he hadn't even noticed the roses. Perhaps a keepsake from his late mother, or a medal bestowed upon him as a high-ranking knight… or something even more meaningful—perhaps a golden ring to symbolize their love across the bounds of species.

 

That must be it—he had lost something of great importance, and was searching in a panic.

 

"Ah, Fisé… I'm sorry. Did I wake you? You looked so peaceful."

 

"Don't worry about that. Dawn is close anyway, and I didn't really want to sleep in the first place."

 

The lonely hour was approaching—the time when he would have to watch Spencer walk away.

 

Yet even as that thought tugged at his heart, Fisé couldn't stop wondering what it was Spencer had been searching for. He had been so sure it was something valuable, something irreplaceable… and yet the moment Spencer saw him, he gave up so easily. With a wry smile, he simply spread his hands and said:

 

"I couldn't find it."

 

That smile suited him so well. Too well.

 

Two months ago, this very same man had appeared at the garden where the Rose King dwelled, utterly fearless. And here, in this same place, the moment he'd laid eyes on Fisé, he had smiled—a confident, radiant smile, like a knight stepping out of a painting.

 

At that very moment, Fisé had fallen in love.

 

And Spencer had smiled and said, "What a charming little Rose King."

 

That same night, he had stolen Fisé's first kiss. And by the following night, he had taken his purity as well.

 

There was not a shred of regret in his heart. And yet… the shadow behind his smile this morning unsettled Fisé.

 

"What… were you looking for?"

 

Please—let it be a ring. Tell me it was a ring. A ring to seal our vow of love.

 

"I was searching for the Eternal Rose," Spencer replied. "We vowed our love to each other, didn't we? I thought… maybe last night, the golden rose had finally bloomed. So I was looking for it, nestled among the white ones."

 

Then, almost as an afterthought, he added: "Gently."

 

Fisé, though more fluent in the language of fairies than that of men, knew the meaning of the word gently. He understood it very well.

 

And he knew, too, that Spencer's lips had just told a lie.

 

"So… you knew of the Eternal Rose legend."

 

"Oh, of course. It's a well-known tale. Well, maybe not among the common folk, but among royalty and nobles—it's widely known. They say that when the rose blooms, the human loved by the Rose King is granted eternal life and youth. That's what I've heard. Is it true?"

 

"Yes," Fisé answered softly. "It's true."

 

He wanted to stand tall—but his knees nearly gave out beneath him.

 

Love, shaken by doubt, left him fragile, like a wildflower so delicate it could snap in the wind.

 

"Fisé… all I want is proof that you love me."

 

"Spencer…"

 

"The moment I receive that, I'll be ready to abandon everything—my title, my honor as a knight, my nobility. I want to live by your side, forever, and look only at you. That's why I wanted the Eternal Rose as soon as possible."

 

"Spencer… me too. I want to give you that miracle. As soon as I can."

 

Those sincere words—and the look in his eyes—dispelled the doubt in an instant.

 

Fisé regretted having ever questioned his love, even for a second.

 

All Spencer had been thinking of was their future. But for a moment, Fisé had looked at him as though he were just another man, greedy for a miracle.

 

To doubt the one you love, even for a breath—such a thing should never be allowed.

 

Perhaps that was the reason. Perhaps that was why, even though two months had passed since they'd come together, the Eternal Rose had yet to bloom. Even if they called it "true love" aloud… Something was still lacking.

 

"I'm sorry, Spencer… I think I'm still too much like a child. But when I see you again next, I'll be more grown. I promise you—I will bloom the Eternal Rose."

 

"Thank you, Fisé… I'm sorry, too. My impatience made me push you. Take your time. No need to rush. I only want your love, shaped gently and sincerely."

 

"…Yes."

 

The sky, shifting cruelly through its colors, announced the coming of their parting.

 

Fisé buried his face in Spencer's chest, unwilling to accept that night was ending, and closed his eyes tightly against the dawn.

 

They were making their next promise. That brought happiness… But he longed for something greater.

 

He wished for a love so complete that they would no longer need parting words or promises. He wanted that kind of togetherness.

 

Their next meeting was set a week from now—longer than usual.

 

For Fisé, it felt like an eternity. But he could endure it. He understood the reason.

 

A long-awaited prince had just been born to the King and Queen of Twydal. A baptismal ceremony and grand celebration were to be held.

 

Though Twydal had known peace for many years, without conflict among its neighboring kingdoms, dignitaries and royalty would still arrive with formal gifts—tensions naturally ran high. It was only natural for a high-ranking knight like Spencer to be busy.

 

"Hey, Launis… no messengers today either?"

 

With just three days left before their next tryst, Fisé asked the black cat who had just returned from his evening patrol.

 

It wasn't idle chatter. He was hoping for a real answer.

 

"No, none today. I even traveled as far as the palace grounds, but it seems no one is coming."

 

The black cat replied, his white fangs flashing behind a crimson tongue.

 

His face was one of barely restrained displeasure. His amber eyes gleamed like a predator's.

 

He was angry. No—more accurately, he had been angry, ever since two months ago.

 

"I see… And the feast is tomorrow. I suppose this means we're not invited after all."

 

Fisé buried his fingers in Launis's silky, fine fur, and the loneliness in his heart faded slightly.

 

Launis was a spirit beast blessed with fairy magic, and like Fisé, he had no body heat of his own. His body always matched the temperature of his surroundings. Right now, that meant he was a little too cold for comfort—but still, the soft fur and quiet warmth of his presence brought Fisé peace.

 

He still looked like a young cat—somewhere between a kitten and a grown feline.

 

When Fisé lifted him into his arms, he felt "warm," even though he lacked any true body heat.

 

"If they've truly forgotten about you, Fisé, then that's deeply disrespectful. Who do they think makes their luxurious lives possible?"

 

"Launis… don't say things like that. The people of Twydal work hard, rising before dawn when the rose fragrance is at its peak. They craft perfumes and new creations with tireless devotion. The flowers are happy… and I'm very proud of them too."

 

"That's not the point. The common folk aren't the problem—it's the royals and nobles who live in luxury. This insult has nothing to do with the people's efforts. Without you, Fisé, the roses wouldn't bloom with such value. And yet they don't invite you to the prince's celebration? Unthinkable. They should've sent a special envoy, bowed their heads, and pleaded, 'Please, Your Grace, will you attend?' You should've been their guest of honor."

 

"Launis, you're more like a dog than a cat. Always fussing over rank and protocol."

 

"Don't compare me to a dog. And I'm not being fussy—you are just too indifferent, Fisé. Even in love… honestly, why are you using formal speech with that man? He's just a knight, even if he's high-ranking. Yet somehow, it feels like he's the one above you, and that bothers me."

 

Clearly genuinely upset, Launis slipped from Fisé's arms, his tail puffed out in agitation.

 

As his emotions rose, his feline instincts kicked in—he hissed, low and warning, through bared fangs.

 

"Don't say things like 'just a knight.' Becoming a knight is no easy feat. As for me… I was simply born the next Rose King without lifting a finger. Even the white roses that sustain the kingdom—they bloom not from effort, but simply because they do."

 

"They bloom because the Rose King exists! That alone proves how great you are, Fisé!"

 

"More importantly, Launis… I told you before. When I'm with Spencer, stay far away."

 

"…I did go far. But I still listened from a distance… because I was worried about you, Fisé."

 

Tail raised stiffly in the air, Launis wore a sulky expression. His voice was sharp, and his eyes gleamed. "That man… I don't trust him. Even when I try to follow him, I always lose sight of him. It's like he's deliberately hiding his tracks."

 

Launis had once been an ordinary cat—until the previous Rose King had poured most of his magical power into him, transforming him into a spirit beast. When the previous King vanished like mist, Launis remained behind, bound by the late King's final will to serve Fisé as his attendant.

 

Up until now, their relationship had been without issue—closer to friendship than duty. But ever since Fisé had fallen in love with Spencer, Launis had become a bit… overbearing.

 

"He said that if others found out he was close with the Rose King, it would stir up jealousy. Until he can move here permanently, he wants to keep our relationship hidden."

 

No matter what Fisé said, Launis wouldn't be convinced. "There's something strange about him," he said, stamping his paws in protest.

 

Fisé knew he shouldn't laugh—not when Launis was this serious—but he couldn't help it.

 

After all, this young-looking cat, who still seemed caught somewhere between kitten and adult, was stomping his paws like a child pining for milk. It was impossible not to find him adorable.

 

"I've decided to attend the celebration tomorrow after all."

 

 

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