Turning Chapter 1159

Yuder observed the flowing water for a moment, his gaze then slowly drifting to the large hand resting upon his own.

He paused, contemplating whether to voice his thoughts, but as he gazed at the unmoving fingers atop his own, a deep certainty settled within him: whatever Yuder Aile intended to say, this man would accept it without hesitation.

His mind achieved a state of tranquil clarity.

“I haven’t shed a tear or felt sorrow even once, no matter who passed away, since my grandfather’s funeral. Not even at yours. It wasn’t especially… different.”

As the deceased had been the former Cavalry Commander, Yuder, now the second Commander, was obligated to attend the funeral.

Emperor Kachian had remarked with a smile, “Due to pressing state matters, I regret I cannot attend personally—I hope you will represent me.” Behind that amicable facade lay a playful curiosity—he was eager to see what demeanor and expression Yudrain Aile would adopt at the funeral of someone he himself had slain. Accompanying this amusement was the wary, primal vigilance of a predator, ready to strike should Yuder betray even a hint of mourning or grief.

The final rites for the Imperial bloodline were somber, yet not subdued. Few of the deceased’s former subordinates were present, save for the Cavalry members who came to pay their respects. Instead, the gathering was predominantly comprised of nobles whose faces bore an uncanny resemblance to Kachian’s.

They had not assembled to mourn the departed. It appeared as though they were there to appreciate the aesthetic presentation of the corpse in the casket.

The instant Yuder made his appearance, all eyes immediately fixed upon him. Even the nobles who had been engaged in cheerful conversation—faced with the arrival of the commoner-born “monster” rumored to have assassinated the Duke of Peleta—instinctively recoiled and fell silent.

However, this quietude was short-lived. As soon as Yuder, his expression impassive, advanced and placed flowers before the coffin where the body lay as if in slumber, then turned away, the crowd resumed their chatter as if undisturbed.

Some, like the former royalist sympathizers and a handful of Cavalry members, regarded him with gazes filled with revulsion. Others, nobles aligned with Emperor Kachian or ambitious political players, observed him as if appraising ingredients on a cutting board—akin to calculating chefs.

They gestured, murmured, tittered, and disparaged in their individual ways.

Yuder, unfazed, simply returned to his duties as if no incident had occurred.

And so it continued, time and again, regardless of who passed away.

Yuder reflected on the numerous funerals he had attended before lifting his head.

“...This might sound absurd, but I doubt I could walk there with the same composure I possessed back then... if I were to go now.”

Should he be forced to witness Kishiar in a coffin once more—

Even the contemplation of it sent a searing agony through his chest, as if his heart were being pulverized. It was undeniably a pain born of sorrow. The polar opposite of everything his grandfather had instilled in him.

Yet, it no longer instilled fear within him.

Yuder calmly endured the discomfort and continued to speak.

“I am realizing anew… just how profoundly I have changed, by discussing this now. Yes. I’ve transformed considerably. But I also discovered yesterday that a part of me remains unchanged since my childhood.”

In Kishiar’s presence, Yuder consistently uncovered new facets of himself.

Labels for emotions he had never bothered to acknowledge.

The dispassionate gaze with which he once viewed his former self.

The childhood he had forgotten and left to languish like a discarded artifact.

All of it constituted Yuder Aile—and the one who cherished that entirety of Yuder Aile, exactly as he was, sat before him.

“.......”

“That is why I believe… I am genuinely pleased I came here with you. Even if my grandfather were present… I suspect he would have felt the same.”

“...Yuder.”

Kishiar uttered his name like a soft lament.

Observing those trembling lips, seemingly adrift for words, Yuder offered a silent smile and leaned forward first to bestow a kiss.

At this juncture, these lips were not those of a royal noble, nor of the man he had once slain, nor of the commander whose directives he was bound to obey.

They were simply the lips of the man Yuder, for the first time in his life, desired to kiss of his own accord.

***

The moment they returned, hands entwined, they both yielded to the weariness of the bed.

It seemed preposterous, considering they had only recently risen—but that mattered little.

What held greater significance was the overwhelming urge to embrace the one who had left him flushed and breathless.

Even in his current state, Kishiar murmured, “Still, not here… It hasn’t been long since the intense passion subsided…”

But to Yuder, these were merely inconsequential justifications.

“There is no one else present. Don’t tell me that’s why you insisted on sleeping in the chair last night?”

“Well… not solely because of that…”

The man could shift from disarmingly candid one moment to inexplicably reticent the next.

It elicited a scoff of disbelief from Yuder.

He forewent a verbal reply and commenced disrobing.

“I desire this. You desire this. That is sufficient. What further necessity is there?”

“...Perhaps having a heart resilient enough to withstand seeing Yuder Aile’s breathtaking and lovable appearance would be beneficial right about now…”

Yuder sealed those impulsive lips before further words could escape them.

Despite his prior efforts to restrain himself, Kishiar’s lips, curved into a smile, surrendered completely.

Yuder brought his hand to rest on his chest, taking a deep, settling breath as if to quell a rapidly beating heart.

Then, he nestled into the curve of Yuder’s neck, his lips grazing the pulsing skin with a light bite.

Simultaneously, his hand ventured beneath the simple attire, tracing a path down Yuder’s spine, eliciting a shiver at the unexpected cool touch.

Responding to the sensation, Yuder lifted his hips, pushing his rear higher.

Fingers explored the already moist space between his thighs, now slick with burgeoning arousal, trembling as if cherishing the feeling.

Kishiar's eyes ignited with a fiery gleam as he whispered,

“My word. You’re already—”

“Yes. I was like this even when we were outside.”

Yuder confessed his state without reservation. From the moment they had shared that kiss outdoors, his insides had liquefied, igniting with unbearable heat.

It was an unbidden reaction—his body instinctively knew its desires, seeking a swifter, deeper connection with the man before him.

Below his displaced trousers, moist traces tracked downwards in clinging threads.

His body was primed, yearning for Kishiar.

—And you...

“You aren’t any different, are you?”

Yuder gave a knowing smirk, his gaze drifting downwards.

The other man’s body was similarly engorged and flushed, perhaps even more so than his own.

Reaching out, Yuder placed his hand against it through the cloth.

Moisture, more abundant than his own, clung to his fingertips.

Kishiar leaned forward under the touch, releasing a soft sigh as his eyelashes fluttered.

“...It can’t be helped. Whenever you are close to me…”

“Yes. I understand.”

Their hands continued their exploration until their skin registered the same warmth, flowing over each other like water as clothes were shed and they tumbled onto the small bed.

And when that deeply desired part finally moved deep within him, Yuder bit his lip, arching his head back amidst the tangled sheets and discarded garments.

“Uhk… ugh…!”

The intense sensation transformed into a body-wracking ecstasy in an instant.

His vision blurred and swam with each rhythmic thrust, his world dissolving and reforming with every movement.

Every time Yuder clutched him with all his might, the other man held him just as tightly, an embrace that felt possessive, as if Yuder were an unattainable treasure.

Though these moments differed from their shared intimacy in Peleta, they mirrored the same profound, soul-stirring satisfaction.

Yuder gasped, breathless with overwhelming pleasure.