The problem was that the two couldn’t meet often, but they had managed to maintain a relatively peaceful relationship—until Edan’s mother died.

Left without a guardian, Edan was locked away in a remote place, and Killian came alone to his younger brother, whip in hand.

‘Killian. You are the only one destined to become Emperor of the Empire. No one must be allowed to stand in your way. So tell me what needs to be done. Any potential future threats must be crushed thoroughly from the root—even seemingly useless vermin can sometimes become your greatest enemy.’

It was the Empress’s command.

Killian knew exactly what kind of person his mother was.

He also knew she would personally march to Edan and demonstrate with her own whip if he disobeyed her orders.

Killian had no choice but to pick up the whip, weeping.

Yet even then, he could not bring himself to strike Edan.

“Brother, why are you crying?”

Faced with Edan’s innocent question, delivered while he looked disheveled and naive, Killian hurled the heavy whip aside and snapped,

“Don’t ask. You idiot.”

“Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay.”

Around that time, Killian was constantly irritated—he hated himself for being stuck in the middle, unable to fully commit to either side.

“Brother, want some sausage?”

Edan held out a plate toward Killian.

The sausage had ketchup smeared on it like eyes, nose, and mouth—something Ruben’s mother occasionally gave them.

“Eat it yourself.”

“But it’s tasty.”

Edan put the plate away and sat quietly beside Killian.

“Edan.”

“Yeah, brother?”

“Do you really think our mother killed your mother?”

There was no one in the Imperial Palace who hadn’t heard the rumor—that the noble Empress had secretly used an undetectable poison to murder the slave concubine.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s all? Why aren’t you upset at all?”

“It’s not that I’m not upset… but I’m okay.”

Edan wasn’t as saddened by his mother’s death as he’d expected to be.

Just as Killian knew his own mother used him, Edan too had realized he’d been used by his mother.

A pretty child exploited for her greed. A necessary child, used only to flaunt her presence before the Emperor.

She had never shown Edan love.

After all, her pregnancy had been calculated for that very purpose from the start.

So although he felt lonely after her death, his life had merely changed in terms of where he ate and slept—there was no deep sorrow.

“What if our mother really did kill your mother? Wouldn’t you hate me then? Wouldn’t you despise me? Mother said you’d seek revenge.”

Edan blinked his large eyes.

“I like you, brother. You’ve always treated me much better than Mother ever did. I don’t want to believe Her Majesty the Empress said that… but even if she did, I wouldn’t take revenge on you. I won’t hate you. I’m okay.”

Edan understood that such emotions ultimately consume oneself.

He knew better than anyone—he’d watched his own mother live a life saturated with revenge, desire, and rage.

He didn’t want to live like that.

“I’m not okay.”

“Brother…”

Killian, forced since childhood into filthy political battles and aristocratic society because of his overbearing mother, was utterly sick of it all.

“I wish you’d just take this Crown Prince position instead.”

Edan gazed silently at Killian.

Again, tears welled up in Killian’s eyes—his brother, tender-hearted.

Yet never one to show weakness before others.

His demeanor—black hair just like the Emperor father, and a gentle heart expertly concealed—was more than sufficient for a future Emperor.

“Brother. I want you to become Emperor.”

“Mother says you’re after my position.”

“That’s not true. I don’t care about that kind of position. You’re the one who resembles Father. You’re smart and cool.”

“Tch. Idiot.”

Killian muttered something about Edan having no ambition, and Edan smiled brightly in response.

“When I grow up, I’ll help you. Once you ascend the throne, I’ll always stand by your side so you won’t struggle alone.”

“Then what should I do for you in return?”

Edan hadn’t attached conditions to his words—it was simply how he’d been taught to think, as royalty. Still, Edan pondered the question before answering.

“Be my real older brother for life.”

Killian was the only family Edan ever considered.

More than his own mother, who had used him. More than his Emperor father, who barely glanced his way.

“You idiot. You’re already my younger brother.”

By now, Killian’s tears had dried, and his face was filled with laughter.

“When I ascend the throne, Edan, I’ll grant you freedom. You’ll be able to do anything you want within the Empire.”

“Yeah!”

It wasn’t always pleasant—sometimes he had to beat Ruben because the Empress scolded him for wielding a whip unstained by blood.

They couldn’t openly display their relationship to others. Yet despite everything, Killian and Edan were truly family.

Even when Edan manifested his supernatural ability—even when the Empress’s fury toward Edan reached its peak because of it—their bond remained unchanged.

“But why did your relationship turn bad?”

After hearing their childhood story, I asked Edan.

If they’d been that close as brothers, something serious must have happened to make things so bad now.

“I already told you. We’re not close anymore, but it’s not that we hate each other.”

That couldn’t be true.

Maybe it was like that when they were young, but now it was a fact that Killian had barred Edan from entering the temple.

And Edan had suffered because of it.

Seeing I wouldn’t drop my suspicious gaze, Edan reluctantly spoke again.

“After I manifested my ability and went north, assassins came for me almost every day.”

I remembered what Ruben had said in front of the Northern Duke’s castle.

That assassins were why portal installations were forbidden inside.

“Even with my ability, I was still just a child. Facing well-trained assassins wasn’t easy. Do you know how I survived each time?”

“How did you survive?”

Edan gently smiled, stroking my cheek and brushing my hair back.

“Brother told me. ‘Assassins will come tonight.’”

Ah.

“That’s how I survived.”

It felt like getting hit on the head. So Killian really had cared deeply for Edan. And Edan still liked Killian. Killian might not feel the same, but at least Edan’s heart seemed unchanged since childhood.

It made me a little sad.

How had things ended up like this?

Unconsciously making a gloomy face, Edan tried to lighten the mood by grabbing both my cheeks with his fingers and stretching them wide.

I narrowed my eyes and glared at him, and Edan burst into giggles as if he found it hilarious.

“Not crying now?”

“Hwzzmmyuh.”

I warned you.

“Your cheeks are so soft. Did someone make them out of flour dough?”

“Hwzzmlrgyuh.”

Edan released the fingers pinching my cheeks, then proceeded to knead my face with his whole palms.

“Should I take a bite?”

“Don’t!”

When I shouted, Edan finally pulled his hands away.

And then—

“Good. You showed some courage just now.”

He gave me a soulless compliment.

I snorted in disbelief, and Edan burst out laughing, suddenly burying his face against the back of my neck.

Then, with a low, amused sigh, he murmured,

“Damn, I’m going crazy.”

I’m the one going crazy here. What are you even saying!

After briefly rubbing his face against my neck, Edan suddenly lifted his head as if remembering something.

“Anyway, Latieana.”

“Yes?”

“Remember what I told you last time?”

What did he mean? I shook my head.

“You said the demon extermination campaign was nearly over.”

“Oh! Is that really true?”

“Not completely over, but we won’t have to fight daily wars like now.”

That meant it was nearly a year since Ivy Violet had ascended to the position of Great Saintess.

The timeline was moving a few months faster than in the original story.

Originally, Edan would have met Ivy only after the war ended, when he was engulfed in extreme suffering.

“So can we rest a bit now?”

“Right now we still need to prepare the territory for winter, so we won’t have much free time—but we’ll find some moments.”

“Winter preparations?”

Edan nodded.

“Northern winters arrive earlier and last longer than elsewhere. While the East is still at summer’s end, the North has already entered autumn. That’s why we harvested the wheat early.”

Now that he mentioned it, it was true.

I’d been so distracted—traveling to the desert and flipping through books—that I hadn’t paid much attention, but the seasons were steadily changing.

“How do you prepare for winter? It must get really cold, right?”

“Terrifyingly so.”

“How cold are we talking?”

In response to my question, Edan leaned back, resting his head against the chair.

Beneath his upturned lips, his sharp jawline arrogantly defined his profile.

“Want to experience it yourself?”

That cold gaze definitely hid some ulterior motive.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It’s scary.”

“If you go to the mountains in midwinter, you’ll cling to me desperately, begging me to hold you because you’re freezing to death. Doesn’t sound bad to me.”

It was ambiguous. I’d probably enjoy being held by Edan, but somehow I had a strong feeling I’d be mercilessly teased.

I vigorously shook my head.

“If it’s that cold, I won’t go.”

“Why not? Let’s go once.”

“No.”

“If you beg me, I’ll hold you.”

“I’ll pass.”

Hmph. Hmph.

“It’s a joke. This winter won’t be that cold. Once the extermination ends, the knights will help well with winter preparations.”

Edan listed various things needed to survive the winter.

Like magical cold-resistant gear, helping villagers who couldn’t afford such items by stacking firewood, stockpiling sand in case roads froze—he even joked about ordering Dante Ian to offer sand as tribute. Occasionally, when bears woke from hibernation and wandered into villages, he joked about dragging Hillstain Mathias along to deal with them.

A quiet joy seeped into Edan’s expression as he calmly described northern winters.

“How long does winter last? I’m curious about northern spring too.”

Last time I visited, it was summer in the North.

There had been green leaves, but the overall chill made it feel nothing like summer.

So I was genuinely curious—what was spring like there?

“Spring?”

I nodded. What was spring like in the North?

Edan answered dryly, as if he’d never seriously considered it.

“As far as I remember, spring has never come.”