The chamber was quiet, the moonlight slipping gently through silk curtains. Shadows pooled at the corners, leaving the room in a soft, silvery glow. Reika sat gracefully by the bed, her robe cascading like flowing water. Nozomi followed her, hesitant at first, then sat beside her. For a long while, neither spoke. Their silence carried the weight of years—aching, unspoken, unbearably heavy.
At last, Reika's voice broke the stillness, fragile yet steady.
"How have you been, Nozomi… all these years?"
He lowered his gaze, his carefully built mask of calm and composure shattering before her presence.
"I have been… well enough," he murmured, though his voice trembled. "But I missed you more than anyone. More than anything. I thought… I thought I would never feel what it's like to have a family again, Mother. A loving family."
Reika's eyes filled with tears as she reached to cradle his cheek, her touch feather-light.
"My poor child… every day without you was a wound that never healed. I longed to hear your voice, to see your smile. But your father—"
Nozomi interrupted softly, a bitter smile tugging at his lips.
"Didn't allow you. He called me filthy. I know. I know, Mother. But it isn't your fault… and it isn't his either. The fault lies in the cruelty of fate."
Her breath shook, her hand tightening against his face.
"No, Nozomi. Don't excuse what should not be excused. You were my treasure, my light, and they tried to bury you in shadow. I… I could not fight against it. And for that, forgive me."
Tears rolled silently down Nozomi's cheeks as he leaned into her touch, the walls of his solitude crumbling.
"I have always forgiven you. Even when I thought you had forgotten me. Even when I hated myself for longing for you… I still forgave you."
Reika drew him into her embrace, holding him tightly as if she could protect him from the entire world.
"Then let me promise you this," she whispered fiercely. "As long as I breathe, as long as I am your mother, you will never be alone again."
They clung to each other through the long night, their words weaving between tears and silence, stitching together the torn fabric of years. For Nozomi, it was the first time in a decade that he felt warmth so real it threatened to break him.
By dawn, the chamber was filled with pale light. The prince, calmer now, finally withdrew, pressing his forehead to hers.
"I will carry your words with me, Mother," he said softly, before leaving the palace to return to his exile.
Elsewhere, Takao prepared to depart, but Rikuya burst into his room like a storm.
"Takao! The plan failed—I need you again!" His voice dripped with venom.
Takao's eyes hardened. "My lord, you told me I only had to prepare the vial of poison. That is what I did. Nothing more. I never agreed to anything else."
Rikuya faltered, momentarily silenced by his own promise. His fury churned inward, twisting into darker, rotting plans. Without another word, he stormed out, leaving Takao alone with his unease.
By afternoon, the palace had settled back into its rhythm, the kingdom steady once more after the fever of celebration. Takao left, relief mingling with exhaustion, until the familiar warmth of Giramuzi welcomed him back.
Mizaki greeted him with her bright smile.
"Hah, you're back! I thought you'd be late. Come inside!"
Takao stepped in, comforted by the cozy simplicity of her home.
"Mami… you made lunch for me?"
She nodded, stirring a pot that filled the room with rich fragrance.
"Of course. You must be tired from the celebration. I thought I'd prepare something good, just for you. Tell me, Takao—how was it? You saw royalty, grandeur, all for the first time."
Takao smiled faintly, but inside his heart clenched. Rikuya's threat against Mizaki still echoed in his ears. He brushed away the sweat forming at his brow and answered softly.
"It was… good. I tasted many delicacies. I only regret not being able to bring you with me. The royal family seemed kind."
Mizaki's face brightened with contentment. "Then I'm glad. That's all I wanted for you to enjoy it."
After a pause, Takao asked quietly, "Mami… do you know any tales of the exiled prince? Not the rumors. The truth."
Her stirring slowed, her smile fading. "You wish to know about Nozomi?"
Takao blinked in surprise. "Nozomi… that's his name? How do you know it?"
"I was his caretaker," Mizaki said softly, her eyes shadowed by memory. "For five months. Before he was forced into exile."
Takao's breath caught. "Five months only? Then tell me everything. Please, Mami. I am grown now. Do not tell me the rumors they spread—tell me the truth."
Mizaki hesitated, fear flickering in her gaze. But at last she nodded, her voice low, grave.
"Then listen well, Takao. The boy they call cursed by the moon… is also the one who carries its beauty."
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