Chapter 27 - Snow White's Son

Translator's Note:

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After the Marchioness had departed, Crow and Kyle returned to their chambers. They sat in silence for a long while on a chaise by the hearth, where an unfinished shawl lay draped across the back.

 

Crow waited, not out of hesitation, but out of patience, hoping for Kyle's answer. It was not his place to decide their path forward. He was bound by love's pain, but his brother carried a heavier burden. Kyle's decision was the one that mattered, and Crow resolved to wait for it, knowing his brother had greater sufferings to bear.

 

"That was just a story the Marchioness made up," Kyle finally said, breaking the quiet.

 

"Brother..." Crow whispered, sensing the weight behind those words.

 

"She might suspect that I was cursed by a similar spall as the beast from that tale, and that I am the one they call the herald of hell. I hope... she's not the sort to spread such rumors, especially after healing your eyes."

 

"I don't think she will," Crow replied, trying to reassure him. "She doesn't seem like that kind of person."

 

Kyle sighed softly. "She saved your sight. We'll owe her our gratitude forever."

 

Though Crow leaned into Kyle's embrace, he could feel the distance between their hearts. While Crow's thoughts were focused on breaking the curse and consummating their forbidden love, Kyle was grappling with far greater concerns. He was hiding the identity of the cursed beast, striving to protect his brother, and contending with the looming burden of becoming the next king. Each day was spent under the crushing tension of ensuring that no one discovered Prince Snow White's presence in the castle.

 

For Kyle, there were more pressing matters than an impossible cure for the curse, or even surrendering to the temptations of their love. His priority was to safeguard the kingdom and his brother's life.

 

"I am content," Kyle whispered, his voice gentle yet firm, "just to see your eyes healed... to have you by my side in good health. Even if I can never escape this wretched curse, waking each morning to see your face and hearing your lullabies is enough to save me. To lie beside you at night, purging the darkness of old memories... It allows me to rise again and act as a proper prince once more. Even if I become king, it will be the same."

 

Kyle had resigned himself to his fate, determined to shoulder the pain alone, unwilling to break the moral laws or the curse that seemed unbreakable. But Crow could not accept this.

 

"No!" Crow's voice trembled with defiance, a crack in the calm he had intended to keep. He had resolved to follow his brother's lead, but this—this he could not abide. How could he stand idly by while his innocent brother suffered alone?

 

"I refuse to let you carry this burden alone, to simply wait in silence while you endure this torment! Together, I believe we can break this curse. At the very least, I know that I love you, brother."

 

"Stop it, Snow White," Kyle replied, his voice low and conflicted. "I love you as well, but this... it's the love of a brother. When you were born, our mother fell ill, and our father was lost in his grief. I raised you, cared for you... not as a brother, but almost like a parent."

 

"No, brother—please stop," Crow interrupted, his heart aching at his words. "I won't believe that."

 

He didn't believe it. He couldn't. He wanted to hear the truth—that Kyle's love was more than brotherly affection, that his feelings were not pure but full of longing.

 

The intense gaze that Kyle had sometimes cast his way—there was no way that had been mere brotherly concern. It wasn't a misunderstanding, Crow told himself. Even now, in the quiet of the room, he could feel the hesitation in his brother's touch, the uncertainty in his eyes.

 

That hesitation meant only one thing—Kyle had not yet fully decided against it. There was a chance, however small, that he might still yield to this forbidden love.

 

"You say you'd be happy with me by your side," Crow continued, his voice soft but determined, "but I can't find happiness just by standing beside you, knowing you suffer night after night while I do nothing but sing you lullabies. I'm no caged bird, nor a mechanical music box. I want to be loved with body and soul... and I want to love you in the same way. I am a person with my own will, my own body. If there's even the faintest glimmer of hope, I want to test the power of love."

 

"Snow White…" Kyle whispered, his voice faltering.

 

In a swift motion, Crow pushed Kyle back onto the chaise, their bodies falling into the cushions. Kyle's sapphire eyes widened in surprise, confusion clouding his face as he stared up at his brother.

 

"If there's a way to free you from this curse," Crow whispered, his breath warm against Kyle's skin, "even the slimmest chance... is it alright if I try? Can I stop holding back?"

 

Without waiting for a reply, Crow pressed his lips to Kyle's, capturing the mouth he had longed for. The lips were far more beautiful than they had appeared in any portrait—soft, warm, real. Crow deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the warmth, savoring every second. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the world burst into vibrant colors, filling with the beauty of a thousand flowers.

 

"Mmm... nn..." Crow moaned softly, lost in the moment.

 

"Snow...!" Kyle gasped, tilting his head back, trying to resist but unable to push his brother away. His arms, gentle even in the heat of the moment, were too uncertain to shove Crow aside.

 

Crow took advantage of his hesitation, catching Kyle's lips again, pressing his body closer. His left hand pinned Kyle's chest while his right slipped lower, moving between his legs.

 

The burning gaze that Kyle had cast toward Crow in his moment of madness, the night when he had nearly crossed the line—it all pointed to one truth that Crow needed to confirm. He believed all of this came from Kyle's own desires, buried deep within. He had to know for certain.

 

"Mm... nn..."

 

"Ah...!"

 

Through the white fabric of Kyle's trousers, Crow's fingers found undeniable evidence of his brother's response. What had been soft just moments ago, now pulsed with life beneath Crow's touch, growing firmer with each stroke, straining against the confines of Kyle's clothing.

 

"Brother... I'm so happy..." Crow whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of emotion and longing.

 

"Snow... White...," Kyle's voice faltered, torn between love and anguish.

 

Crow, who had watched the beast's body every day, understood the changes he felt under his fingers. His brother, usually so composed and princely, now furrowed his brows in a struggle between restraint and desire. The contrast only made Kyle more endearing, more tragic, and Crow's love for him swelled.

 

Having grown up in the confinement of the tower, Crow had been untouched by the constraints of the outside world. He was free to love as his heart dictated, unhindered by societal expectations. Whether his beloved was a beast, or his own flesh and blood, Crow's heart would not be bound by anything but its own passion.

 

"Snow White... stop this...," Kyle pleaded, though his voice was weak with hesitation.

 

"I can't, brother... not when you're like this..."

 

Crow loosened Kyle's garments, revealing the part of him that trembled with desire. Kyle's body was so different from the beast's, smooth where the beast had been covered in fur, his skin soft and untouched. The golden hair at the base of his manhood shimmered like honey in the light. It was a contradiction—delicate, yet fierce in its readiness.

 

"Mm... ah..." Crow murmured, his hands stilling for just a moment as he took in the sight before him.

 

He kissed the trembling hardness, his tongue trailing along the ridged veins that pulsed with the flow of blood. The heat under his lips grew, the tension mounting with each touch, as if life itself were being breathed into the entire shaft.

 

"Nn... ha...," Kyle gasped, his body betraying him, every inch of him reacting to Crow's touch.

 

Crow penetrated deep between Kyle's legs, his fingers worked expertly on his arousal, stroking with gentle yet firm movements, while his tongue danced with a sensual grace.

 

Since he was young, he had been familiar with men's bodies, and knew exactly what to do and where to do it, but this was a new experience... a new pleasure. The man he loved was aroused by his own figure and actions, causing parts of his body to change so dramatically. He was being desired. "Even if you're my real brother, I still love you, and I can't help but want to hold you," he said persuasively, acting all lovely.

 

"Stop... stop this... this is wrong..." Kyle's voice broke, the protest half-hearted as his hips pulled back in resistance, but his body surged forward again under Crow's ministrations, drawn by an unspoken need.

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