Healing Through Unconditional Affection
The heavy sigh that escaped Emperor Carchion's lips echoed like a distant thunderclap through the imperial palace gardens. Behind him, Blanc, the fluffy white tiger cub, instinctively shrank back, tucking his fluffy tail tightly between his legs in a perfect ball of panic.
The emperor's piercing gaze shifted toward the tiny culprit hiding in plain sight, only the innocent white face and wide, unblinking blue eyes peeking out from between his tiny legs.
Those perked-up tiger ears—were they angry? The question hung unspoken in the air.
It was ridiculous. He should have been furious. He should have roared, punished, condemned. Yet looking at that adorable, helpless face, the rage simply melted away.
"Fine. You win. You win."
In the end, Carchion couldn't hold back and burst into a warm, chuckling laugh.
Every time the children's day of remembrance approached, that same crushing guilt and cursed compulsion would twist in his chest—the overwhelming urge to push everyone away. But one single fluffy cotton ball was enough to shatter it all.
"Lucas."
"Yes, Your Majesty?"
"Call the Crown Prince... no, Crown Prince Demian."
Lucas, the emperor's aide, nearly dropped the heavy jug he was holding. His hand trembled just slightly.
"The Crown Prince, Your Highness?"
By this time of year, the emperor and his eldest son had learned to avoid each other. No—they had to. If they met, memories of that terrible day would flood back, the madness would surge, and the uncontrollable bloodlust and hatred would rise like a tidal wave.
That was the empire's greatest tragedy.
Yet Carchion stood firm.
"Yes. Bring Demian. And gather all the kitchen staff in the courtyard."
The emperor pointed with a sharp nod at the massive dead Iron Bear sprawled on the ground.
"The menu is this bear he hunted. Cook it completely—no scraps left."
Red coals glowed in the palace courtyard as night fell.
Chiiik—!
Over a giant grill, thick slices of bear meat sizzled, sending up thick white smoke that smelled of heaven. Every time a drop of fat hit the coals, it popped and sizzled, filling the air with rich, savory aroma. But the atmosphere was far too quiet for a celebration.
"Come now, Blanc. A~ah."
Seated at the highest seat, Emperor Carchion carefully sliced the meat and blew on each piece with focused care.
"Cyaung… chomp, chomp."
Blanc sat obediently on the emperor's lap, jaw tucked, eating with perfect little chews. Normally he would have purred his Purr Song and begged for more, but tonight he simply focused on the subtle air of the room.
"What… situation is this?"
At that moment, a low, sharp voice cut through the garden entrance.
Demian had come running the moment he was summoned. His eyes were tightly narrowed, every muscle tense like a drawn bowstring.
Was it the emperor's madness flaring up again? Or perhaps Kailian's curse? His nerves were stretched to breaking.
Yet the scene before him was nothing like the bloody slaughter of old. It was simply smoke curling from meat being grilled.
"You're here, brother?"
Kailian, flipping the meat with a pair of tongs, offered an awkward smile. The sight made Demian frown as he approached, confusion and caution warring in his gaze.
"Saintess. What is the meaning of this? His Majesty summoned me urgently."
He turned to the saintess standing beside him, quietly warming herself by the fire.
"Ah, you came, Your Highness."
Lina answered calmly, chewing a single piece of meat.
"The emperor is currently being forced to take a tonic thanks to Blanc. Isn't the atmosphere wonderful?"
"A tonic?"
"Yes. Iron Bear meat. Blanc hunted it himself."
"What?"
Demian's eyes flicked from the grill to the emperor's lap, where the white fluff ball sat. Then they widened.
"Blanc? That little brat took down a B-rank magic beast?"
"Yes. One paw strike and its jaw was crushed. Tower Master Rosalia had quite the time moving the body."
Demian stared at Blanc with pure disbelief.
Blanc met his eyes, sauce already smeared across his muzzle, and cheerfully waved his front paw in greeting.
'That kid…'
The moment he saw Blanc, the storm of noise that had been swirling in his mind vanished. The sickening, back-of-the-neck prickling sensation he felt whenever he looked at his family—gone. Replaced by something that felt almost like a lie when he saw that shameless white face.
Demian swallowed a chuckle and glanced at the emperor.
Carchion was carefully wiping the sauce from Blanc's mouth with a napkin, his own face still heavy with fatigue. Yet the expression on it was nothing like the one filled with bloodlust or madness. It was simply the face of an ordinary grandfather feeding his grandchild.
"Eat plenty. And drink the bone broth too. Don't leave it."
A soft murmur from the emperor.
"…"
Demian watched the scene and bit his lip. This time of year, the emperor's eyes would always be red and bloodshot, staring at them with pure hatred—as if they were enemies.
Not warm family eyes, but murderous ones. They had all looked at each other that way.
But today was different. The corners of his lips were curved, his eyes clear.
Pfft.
A sigh of relief escaped Demian's lips. The tension drained from his body, leaving his legs weak.
"Brother."
Kailian had quietly approached and now held out a plate.
"Here. It's for you. I left the rare parts. The chef specially saved the fat and skin."
Demian accepted the plate without a word. The two siblings took seats on a bench a little distance from the emperor's table.
Crack, crack.
The only sounds were the crackle of burning wood and the popping of coals. It was awkward. Not just siblings who disliked each other, but family bound by blood they could never wash away.
Demian placed a piece of meat in his mouth and chewed slowly. The juicy flavor of the undercooked bear soaked his tongue.
"Smells off."
Demian muttered under his breath. His gaze stayed fixed on the roaring fire.
"Like the smell back then."
"…"
Kailian's hand froze for a split second. He didn't need her to say it. He already knew what 'that smell' was.
Years ago, on a certain night. The day the imperial family's curse finally crossed its limit.
His sister and brother—possessed, rampaging like beasts, swinging swords. The imperial corridors soaked in screams and blood that night.
They had been together that day.
"It was the same then, wasn't it?"
Kailian gave a bitter smile, twirling an empty glass. Her voice was light, but the weight behind it was heavier than lead.
"The blood scent was vibrating, but only the two of us were fine. How ironic."
To survive. To prevent an even greater tragedy. They had picked up their swords.
"You… took all of it on yourself."
Demian said quietly.
"Because I was the next emperor. Because I had to become 'light'… forcing you to sacrifice."
The world called Kailian the 'Mad Dog,' the 'Blood Witch.' A murderous sister who slaughtered her own family. But the truth was far different. She had been nothing but a sacrifice to prove the Crown Prince's purity.
After that day, Demian began erasing his emotions to stop the madness from swallowing him whole, while Kailian broke herself to suppress her curse.
Looking at each other now was unbearable—the smell of blood from that night would flood back. So they had learned to bare their teeth at each other.
"Brother."
Kailian swallowed another bite of meat and paused.
"Stop it. It's been years. That was the only choice then—we survived."
Survived. The word brought both relief and terror at once, weighing heavily on both of them.
They fell silent again. But this silence held none of the old sharp killing intent.
It was because of the little white fluff ball snuggled in the emperor's arms, sauce dripping from his lips, wagging his paw toward them.
"Strange."
Demian looked up at the night sky, then lowered his gaze to Blanc.
"Just looking at that kid… doesn't make my head hurt. Mom and Dad… they just look like family."
"Yeah. Me too. The blood smell is nothing compared to Blanc's soft, fluffy scent."
Kailian agreed. Blanc was like a painkiller—numbing the imperial family's cursed nerves, offering a drug-like happiness.
"Kailian."
Demian rose from his seat. He straightened his clothes. The weight in his chest remained, but it was lighter now. The guilt wasn't gone, and the wounds weren't fully healed.
"Let's… go back to the way we were before. Slowly."
Demian looked at his sister. His eyes were unsteady, but they were also firm.
"Before that hellish night, when we didn't point swords at each other and didn't hate each other."
"Brother… are you serious?"
Demian's gaze was resolute—not the dignity of a Crown Prince, but the late, sincere apology and promise of an older brother.
Kailian smiled faintly at the sight and nodded.
"Yeah. Well, it's not bad. With Blanc here… maybe it's even possible."
"Let's go. Grandpa is waiting."
Demian led the way. His steps were noticeably lighter than before.
The siblings approached the table where the emperor and Blanc sat.
"Cyaung?"
"Huh? You're here."
Blanc looked up from the meat he had been tearing from the emperor's lap. Demian gave an awkward cough, then carefully took the seat beside the emperor.
"Grandpa."
"…Mm."
The emperor looked surprised as well. It had been years since his son had sat this close during the day of remembrance.
"I'll… have one too. The smell is just too good to resist."
Demian extended his empty plate. A completely ordinary action from an ordinary son—yet it was nothing short of a miracle in this imperial family.
"Cyaung."
Do you like grandpa? You do?
Blanc poked the emperor's side with his fluffy tail.
Carchion's eyes flickered. He picked up the tongs with a trembling hand and selected the perfectly grilled piece of meat.
"Here. Take it. Eat plenty."
The meat was placed on Demian's plate. He took a bite. It was a little cold, but the smoky warmth and tender texture slid down his throat.
"How is it? Good, right? I grilled it specially."
Kailian sat quietly on the opposite side and asked.
"Mmm. It's a bit tough, but it's edible. Maybe it's because you grilled it."
"Hey, seriously! Tough? What kind of tough?! Your brother has weird taste!"
The siblings bantered like normal kids. And in the emperor's eyes, a faint mist gathered at the corners.
The awkward silence continued, occasional glances bouncing off the empty air. No one moved from their seats.
The sharp current of madness that had once flowed between them was now diluted, mixing with the crackling coals and rising meat smoke.
"Cwaang! Bang bang!"
I want some too! Why are you eating without me?
Blanc drummed his tail on the table, breaking the quiet.
"Aigoo, our Blanc is angry. Here, here."
Kailian gently took Blanc's paw and popped a piece of meat straight into his mouth.
"Cyaung!"
Right?
The sight of Blanc opening his little mouth to accept the meat obediently brought a smile to everyone's face.