Chapter 22 - Snow White's Son

Translator's Note:

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As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, the air grew sharp and cold. Crow, seeking warmth, left the meadow behind. Though it was the onset of spring, patches of snow still clung to the forest, and when night fell, the cold gnawed at his very bones.

 

With his sight lost, Crow hesitated to kindle a flame. Instead, he sought out a water source first, ensuring that if disaster struck, he would be close enough to douse any blaze. Only after finding the stream did he light his lantern, its feeble flame offering warmth only to his hands.

 

Yet, even that modest comfort was not enough to stave off the biting chill. His teeth chattered, and as the cold settled into his bones, the animals returned to him once more. This time, a great stag appeared among them, its silhouette majestic in the dim light. Crow brought the bracelet close, and the sight of its grand antlers left him breathless with wonder.

 

Surrounded by these gentle creatures, Crow was able to endure the cold. He knew that it must be evening now, but he still held onto the hope that, by midnight, the Beast would come to find him. As he sat there, he pondered the words he might say when they met again.

 

When the Beast comes near, all these animals will surely flee in terror, he mused. I must sing him the lullaby at once, while at the same time holding the bracelet near his nose. Even if I cannot bind him with magic, perhaps I can restore his human form. Oh, may a miracle occur—and may I speak the words of love that have long filled my heart.

 

As these thoughts swirled in his mind, Crow sat with his hands outstretched toward the flickering lantern, lost in his musings. But suddenly, something within him stirred. He neither saw nor heard anything, but through the body of the stag at his side, he sensed an overwhelming dread—a primal fear that coursed through the creature, its heart pounding as if ready to flee from mortal danger.

 

"...Beast?" Crow whispered, feeling certain now that something perilous was drawing near.

 

His suspicion was confirmed when, like a scattering of leaves before a storm, the animals that had gathered around him fled in terror. Crow, too, felt a surge of fear as their panic rippled through him.

 

Though his heart yearned for the Beast, the thought that he might be torn apart before he could use the bracelet filled him with dread. Worse still, he feared the anguish the Beast would feel once his human mind returned, knowing what he had done.

 

Crow had never asked why the Beast transformed each night, for the creature had never spoken of it. But he knew, in his heart, that the Beast—no matter how savage in his animal form—was, at his core, a rational and kind soul. Whatever torment caused this transformation, Crow understood only that it brought him great pain.

 

"Beast... is that you?" Crow called out into the darkness, raising the bracelet with a trembling hand.

 

But it was not the Beast's familiar growl that reached his ears. From all around—left, right, and straight ahead—came the low, menacing growls of many creatures.

 

Not the Beast... wolves! It's a pack of wolves!

 

Crow's hope of reunion with the Beast vanished, replaced by a wave of terror. He thrust out his left hand, the bracelet glinting faintly in the dark, and shouted, "Stay back!"

 

But the wolves' growls only grew louder, the sounds of their approach becoming more menacing with each passing moment. The bracelet had kept him safe from predators before, but never had there been so many. Crow could feel them circling behind him now, their presence a looming threat.

 

He knew there was only one bracelet, and if he were surrounded, it would not be enough to protect him from all sides. The wolves' growls seemed almost conspiratorial, as though they were deciding amongst themselves which of them would strike first, and which part of him they would feast upon.

 

"No... no, please!" Crow cried, his voice trembling as he stepped backward. "Don't come any closer!"

 

In the pitch darkness, Crow did the only thing he could think of—he dove into the stream. The water was shallow, but he waded through it, praying that it might offer him some form of escape.

 

Keep going, just get to the other side... he urged himself, though he could hardly feel his legs through the cold. His breath came in ragged gasps as he pushed forward, the icy water splashing against his waist.

 

Then, from the darkness, a voice rang out: "Snow White!"

 

Startled, Crow froze, waist-deep in the icy stream. That voice—it was unmistakable. He turned just in time to hear a volley of gunshots ring through the night. The wolves, once growling with menacing confidence, now shrieked in agony, their howls torn apart by the sharp crack of gunfire.

 

What followed was a chaotic symphony: the thud of bodies hitting gravel, the splash of wolves falling into the water. Though Crow could not see it, he knew the wolves were being driven away, their fierce facade shattered by the sudden onslaught.

 

"Beast…?"

 

On the wind, the acrid scent of gunpowder reached him, mingling faintly with the iron tang of blood. Most of the wolves had fled, leaving only the sounds of approaching footsteps and, behind them, the heavy gallop of an animal—one far larger than any he had known before. Though Crow had never seen a horse, he felt sure that the sound belonged to one.

 

"Snow White, are you safe? Don't move, I'm coming to you!" called the voice, familiar and kind, the voice of the Beast in his gentler moments—yet, alongside it, another voice cried out in alarm.

 

"Your Highness, it's too dangerous!"

 

"Leave it to us, Your Highness!" another urged, their concern clear in their tone.

 

In this kingdom, only one man was called "Your Highness"—Crown Prince Kyle, Crow's elder brother. But the voice, so like the Beast's… could they truly be one and the same? The Beast's unmistakable voice cut through their protests: "He is my brother! I will go myself!"

 

Crow's heart trembled with uncertainty. His thoughts raced, piecing together the image of Prince Kyle from the grand portrait that hung in the castle—the noble, golden-haired prince with sapphire-blue eyes. And yet, here you got the Beast, with his wild, dark hair and fearsome appearance. The two seemed as different as night and day, yet…

 

Crow knew the Beast. He knew his intelligence, his nobility of heart, hidden beneath his terrifying visage. No one could know better than Crow how sincere the Beast truly was, how much he had suffered.

 

"Snow White!" the voice called again, closer now.

 

"Brother…?" Crow's voice was barely a whisper, his confusion mounting. He strained his eyes in the darkness, but could see nothing save the faint glimmer of his bracelet, glowing softly in the night. It cast a pale light upon the rippling surface of the water.

 

A splash echoed nearby, as though someone was wading through the stream toward him, but the prince's figure remained hidden in the gloom.

 

"Snow White, are you unharmed? Oh, no… there's a wound on your face…" The voice was filled with sorrow and worry, echoing from the shadows opposite the light.

 

Crow, his attention fixed on the faint glow, whipped his head toward the sound. He longed to see Prince Kyle's face, to confirm with his own eyes. When a strong hand grasped his shoulder, his heart nearly burst from his chest.

 

"Brother… are you the Beast?" Crow whispered, reaching out with trembling hands. His fingers brushed against the smooth, beardless chin of the man before him, then trailed along his cheek. In the dim light of the bracelet, Crow could just make out the faint outline of Kyle's face, his features obscured by shadow, yet somehow familiar.

 

The pale silhouette against the dark reminded him of the Beast, but the truth… the truth lay deeper. Crow could not rely on sight alone, not when his heart already knew the answer.

 

For a year, night after night, this person had been with him. No change in appearance, no loss of sight could ever mask the truth that Crow knew deep within.

 

"Beast..."

 

There was no doubt—here, before him, Crown Prince Kyle stood revealed as the Beast. Instinct told him, and his heart agreed. As soon as Crow considered them as one and the same, the signs fell into place, as if the truth had been hidden in plain sight all along.

 

The Beast had known Crow intimately from the very beginning. He had never once used the name Crow, a name unfitting for a prince, but always called him Snow White. He was intimately familiar with the affairs of the royal family and nobility, and he already knew the contents of the books Kyle had sent.

 

Then there were the countless clues: the oversized hooded cloak that arrived just after the Beast began visiting the tower, the sweets Crow had once mentioned loving, which soon filled a treasure chest, and the tea leaves that, when depleted, were replenished the very next day. All of it pointed to the same conclusion.

 

And if Kyle was the Beast, it explained why he could never marry.

 

No man would choose to become a savage creature with crimson eyes by night. It must be some inescapable curse, a terrible burden he bore.

 

Yet Crow, blind to the affection directed his way, had doubted his brother's love and kindness. He had spoken cruel words, unaware of the truth.

 

"Brother… all this time… it was you who came to see me every night for the past year. I'm so sorry. I accused you of being cold-hearted because you hadn't written me a letter. Oh, forgive me, Brother… forgive me."

 

"You needn't apologize… It is I who have failed you," Kyle replied, his voice thick with regret.

 

"No, you were always so kind, Brother."

 

"Snow White… Your eyes, they…!" Kyle's voice trembled in horror as he noticed that Crow's gaze no longer focused, that he could not see.

 

The sounds of rushing water and the shouts of Kyle's retainers echoed around them as they plunged into the river after their prince. Yet none dared interfere with the brothers' reunion.

 

Together, Crow and Kyle wept, holding each other tightly.

 

"This is my fault… I cut your hair, and now this… I was too ashamed to tell you the truth, and now… this…" Kyle's voice broke as he held Crow, his guilt unbearable.

 

"Brother…"

 

Overwhelmed by the weight of the truth, Crow collapsed into Kyle's arms, sobbing. His tears, hot against the icy water, mingled with his choked words, barely audible in his brother's ears.

 

Kyle's voice, distant yet urgent, seemed to plead for forgiveness. Forgive me, forgive me… But Crow could barely make out the words.

 

Brother... it is I who must ask for forgiveness. For if the Beast is you... I have fallen in love with my own brother. And even now, knowing this, I cannot let go of these feelings, not even if I tried.

 

The more Crow thought of it, the stronger his love became. How could he ever abandon this love, knowing how deeply it ran? Could he truly cast it aside, just because they were brothers? No—such a thing was impossible.

 

Though Crow's heart cried for forgiveness, it was not an apology. He sought permission to continue loving his brother, a plea to be allowed to hold onto the feelings that consumed him.

 

"Snow White..." Kyle's voice, though gentle, seemed to come from far away.

 

As Crow closed his eyes, the face he saw was both Kyle's and the Beast's.

 

Brother… I'm sorry for burdening you with my love. But please, let me continue loving you, even if it's wrong. Please, I beg you, forgive me.

 

Crow knew it was no wonder the Beast had not accepted his love. His brother was already suffering under a curse, and Crow's affection would only add to his torment. He understood that. Yet, even knowing that the Beast was his brother, Crow's love showed no sign of fading.

 

What could he possibly do? How could he avoid bringing more pain to the brother he loved so dearly? If his love was nothing more than poison to Kyle, that would be too tragic to bear.

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