Chapter 14

​“Mmm……”

​“Shh…… It’s alright.”

​Perhaps feeling confined by the tight embrace, Yoo-ha moaned in his sleep. Ye-hwi infused a bit more heat into the brazier hovering in the center of the room and gently stroked Yoo-ha’s back. He spoke softly, his voice a low murmur as if soothing a fitful child.

​Seong Yoo-ha was a man who succumbed to the cold easily. Even though winter had yet to fully arrive, he spent every night curled into a tight ball. His sleep was usually so light that even the slightest shift from Ye-hwi would startle him awake. However, on that first night when Hwi had warmed the room with the floating brazier, Yoo-ha had finally fallen into a deep, heavy slumber—allowing Hwi to hold him until dawn and leach the boiling heat from his own body.

​It would be better if our bare skin touched.

​Though their bodies were pressed firmly together, two layers of fabric still separated them. Was it true that greed knew no bounds? Only a few days ago, he had been content just to feel the fever recede, yet now he was restless, consumed by the desire for a deeper, more direct connection.

​If the coolness I feel through these layers pleases me this much, how much better would it be against his skin?

​Hwi lowered the hand resting on Yoo-ha’s back, found the hem of the upper garment, and slid his hand beneath the fabric.

​“Mmmgh……”

​Hwi’s hand went still at Yoo-ha’s waist, waiting for him to stop tossing and turning. Once the boy grew quiet again, a tingling sensation began to rise from where his fingertips met bare skin. It felt as though he had plunged his hand into an icy river. Unable to restrain himself any longer, Hwi thrust his hand deeper beneath the clothes and caressed Yoo-ha’s back.

​His entire palm was instantly flooded with coolness, a sensation like a fresh autumn breeze rushing through his hand. A breath of sheer admiration broke from Hwi’s lips.

​“Haa.”

​Is this even possible? To suppress my fever this effortlessly?

​The reason the Mir were obsessed with the Maru was simple: the Maru were the only ones who could suppress their madness. For a Mir with thick blood or multiple abilities, the existence of a Maru was absolute. The more powerful the Mir, the more severe the insanity that clawed at them. It varied in degree, from those who struggled to maintain a daily routine to those who lost their minds entirely to the fire in their veins.

​If one embraces a Maru, the madness subsides.

​If one embraces a Maru, the fever hushes.

​If one embraces a Maru, it feels good.

​If one embraces a Maru… if one embraces a Maru… if one embraces a Maru…

​The Mir’s praises for the Maru were endless, yet Ye-hwi had never experienced a single one of those promised reliefs—until now. Here he was, marveling at the peace found in the arms of a regular man who wasn’t even a Maru.

​“Perhaps the primordial Maru bore their marks somewhere other than the neck. Somewhere like yours.”

​Since he had yet to see Yoo-ha completely naked, he couldn’t be certain. But if the man truly wasn’t a Maru, this reaction was impossible to explain. He would have to see for himself soon. But what if he stripped him bare, checked every inch of his body, and found him to be nothing more than a normal man without a mark?

​“It doesn’t matter.”

​After a moment’s thought, Hwi mumbled the words as he drew Yoo-ha tighter against him. It truly didn’t matter. Even if the man wasn’t a Maru—as long as he could suppress this fire, Hwi would claim him. Whether Seong Yoo-ha bore a mark or not was irrelevant.

​It wasn’t until the pale blue light of dawn touched the ground that Hwi finally released his hold. He returned to his shabby bedding by the door and closed his eyes.

​Yoo-ha woke to the sunlight streaming across his eyes. Feeling his body strangely light, he slowly sat up. Except in the peak of midsummer, he rarely slept this soundly, yet lately, he had been falling into deep, restful slumbers.

​“The brazier hasn’t been touched, though.”

​On rare occasions, Yong-rae would scavenge charcoal from somewhere and secretly light a fire. In those instances, the room would lose its coldness and become warm enough for him to sleep well. However, the brazier in Yoo-ha’s room remained empty, exactly as it had been the night before.

​He had been sensitive to the cold since childhood. Before his mother passed away—and before the verdict on his Maru status was reached—his father used to claim it was simply because Yoo-ha was of a weak constitution. Back then, his father had seen to it that Yoo-ha’s room was always heated, generously filling it with charcoal. But after it was confirmed that he was not a Maru, Yoo-ha had been left to shiver through the nights, findng warmth only in the height of summer.

​“Have I finally grown used to it?”

​People often said that one eventually adapts to any cold, but Yoo-ha had never felt adjusted. He had assumed it was a lingering flaw in his constitution, but perhaps he was simply slower to adapt than others.

​Whatever the case, Yoo-ha welcomed the newfound lightness in his limbs and turned his gaze toward Hwi, who was asleep by the door. Though the room was small, it had always felt cavernously empty whenever he lay shivering in the dark. Now, with Hwi staying there, the small space felt full. Perhaps that was why the air seemed warmer than usual.

​“Hwi.”

​“……”

​He waited a beat before calling the name of the man who seemed dead to the world once more.

​“Hwi.”

​“……Mmh.”

​At Hwi’s sleep-heavy response, Yoo-ha let out a silent laugh and studied his profile. The bridge of Hwi’s nose was so high it was clearly defined even from a distance. His features were prominent—strong and sharp jawline, straight forehead, and lips that held a stubborn set. He possessed many of the striking, unique traits common to the Mir.

​A powerful Mir, a heroic Mir, a handsome Mir, a fierce Mir. To Yoo-ha, however, those descriptions felt insufficient.

​Hwi possessed an appearance that seemed to personify the bright, scorching beauty of a midsummer sun. His perfectly balanced features held a compelling power, a magnet that made it impossible to look away. Moreover, the captivating aura he exuded whenever his eyes crinkled in a smile or the corners of his mouth lifted was utterly breathless—and dangerously charming.

​When Yoo-ha had first seen him in the market, he had even entertained the fleeting thought that Hwi might be the scion of some prestigious Mir family, dressed in slave’s rags as a mischievous prank.

​“Hwi, you should get up. You need to head to the main house.”

​At Yoo-ha’s soft voice, Hwi’s eyelids slowly lifted. His eyes, still slightly unfocused from sleep, fixed an intent stare on Yoo-ha.

​“Did you sleep well?”

​Hwi’s voice was husky, weighted with the remnants of sleep. The dim morning light cast shadows over him. The play of dark and light settled across his features harmoniously; in the brightness, his eyes sparkled with the deep, lustrous hue of black pearls.

​Yoo-ha held Hwi’s gaze for a moment. No matter how many times he considered it, he was certain Hwi was not of slave origin. If he were, he would never be able to meet a superior’s eyes so blatantly.

​“Yes,” Yoo-ha replied.

​As his answer echoed softly in the room, Hwi stood up and roughly smoothed out his wrinkled clothes. He lingered for a beat, looking down at Yoo-ha, before finally speaking.

​“I slept well, too—thanks to you. I just need to collect the goods and deliver them to Yong-rae, right?”

​Thanks to me? Yoo-ha wanted to ask what he meant, but Hwi was already stepping out of the room.