Chapter 39
By the time the meeting finally adjourned, the night had grown deep, and the battlefield had at last fallen still.
Humans and Dracoserpens alike—who only a short while earlier had sat shoulder to shoulder around shared fires, sharing hard rations and heated wine—had withdrawn to their tents to rest bodies worn thin by battle.
After helping clear the Dracoserpens’ command tent, Andri stepped out into the cold night air and turned toward his own quarters.
A solitary figure stood waiting beneath the wavering glow of the campfires.
“Lord Commander—”
Andri caught himself immediately.
“...Your Highness.”
He snapped his heels together and bowed deeply.
Antonius greeted him with the familiar composure expected of a crown prince, though tonight strain showed faintly at its edges.
“You fought magnificently today. Imresia shall remember what you did here.”
“You honor me, Your Highness. Yet this battle has only reminded me how much further I still must go. I intend to devote myself to my training with greater diligence than ever.”
A breath of laughter escaped Antonius. Genuine, this time—unexpectedly human from a man who bore crown, command, and kingdom with such unwavering discipline.
Then the expression softened into something more uncertain.
For perhaps the first time in years, the Crown Prince seemed hesitant before his own words.
When he finally lifted his eyes to Andri’s, something dangerously vulnerable showed through the practiced refinement of court.
“…Would you truly call me brother, Andronicus?”
The question struck Andri harder than any wound sustained upon the battlefield.
Without hesitation, he dropped to one knee.
“Your Highness—forgive me. I spoke beyond the station granted unto me.”
The apology came far too quickly, as though Andri had spent his life believing that anything cherished ceased to be his the moment he allowed himself to hope for it.
Pain crossed Antonius’s face.
Before Andri could fully comprehend what was happening, Antonius lowered himself onto one knee before him as well.
“Y-Your Highness?!”
Alarm seized Andri instantly.
The heir to the throne of Imresia was kneeling before him.
Before a knight.
Before him.
Flustered beyond reason, Andri reached toward him at once.
“Please—you must not—”
But Antonius gently caught his arm, not allowing him to withdraw behind apology and protocol.
“When you were suffering,” he said, the polished restraint of court nowhere to be found, “when you were afraid… when you stood alone, enduring cruelty from hands and tongues alike… I was never there soon enough.”
Andri’s lips parted, but no answer came.
“I was supposed to be your elder brother. I was supposed to protect you.”
His grip tightened slightly around Andri’s arm.
“And I failed you.”
The words fell with devastating simplicity.
Antonius Imresius did not speak lightly of failure—least of all his own.
Yet he held Andri’s gaze without retreating from it.
“And after all that… you would still have me as your brother?”
Andri’s throat tightened painfully.
“Your Highness… of course I would.”
The answer escaped before caution could restrain it.
Only afterward did embarrassment catch up to him.
“I—I mean… should Your Highness permit me such an honor.”
Something within Antonius finally yielded—not dramatically, but with the gradual breaking of a man who had carried loneliness with impeccable dignity for far too many years.
Slowly, he reached forward and enclosed Andri’s trembling hand within his own.
Warm.
Steady.
Then he drew him gently to his feet.
Yet once Andri was standing, Antonius found he could not bring himself to let go.
Instead, he stepped closer and gathered his younger brother into his arms.
Andri froze completely.
For one impossible instant, he forgot how to breathe.
Perhaps because he had never truly believed such warmth could belong to him. Perhaps because some frightened, wounded part of him had always expected it to vanish the moment he reached toward it.
But Antonius only held him closer.
“I was meant to protect you,” he murmured against Andri’s shoulder. “Instead, I used you. Relied upon you. Allowed myself to be saved by you, again and again.”
His embrace tightened faintly.
"...I have failed you as a brother. And yet... would you still remain by my side, as my brother?"
He drew a careful breath.
That warmth.
That gentleness.
Those were the very things that had carried Andri through years he should never have survived alone.
His vision blurred completely.
“…Your Highness…”
The words broke apart halfway through.
“I am alive because of you.”
Antonius drew a trembling breath.
Then, with rank forgotten and the final remnants of princely restraint falling away, he whispered:
"I should have said this long ago—I love you, my only brother."
That was all it took.
The tears Andri had fought so desperately to restrain finally spilled free.
Unable to endure another moment, he buried his face against Antonius’s shoulder, hiding his ruined expression like a child.
His hand gripped Antonius's cloak as though afraid to let go.
“And I love you too.”
Antonius closed his eyes tightly and wrapped both arms around him fully, holding the larger man with a tenderness bordering upon desperation, as though terrified that loosening his grip even slightly might cause this long-denied miracle to vanish.
From a short distance away, Drake watched the two of them in silence.
Irina should have been here for this.
The thought struck him with unexpected force.
Then, sensing movement behind him, he glanced over his shoulder.
Kiba. Tien. Ko. Yuki.
Every one of them wore the same helplessly affectionate expression.
And Drake himself—appearing to wage a losing battle against tears of his own—answered them with a stiff, awkward smile that somehow conveyed more than words ever could.
