IYAMD: Episode 11

While Marsilia was working with his aide, Serez, Jaha spent his time idly lying on the bed.

The attendants busied themselves around Marsilia, carrying tea and organizing documents that needed to be reviewed or had already been handled.

Yet, none of them lingered near Jaha. Only Ashton approached from a distance to check if he needed anything.

“Would you like some tea?”

Even though Jaha didn’t respond, Ashton seemed to be making an effort to be polite.

Then, Jaha noticed Ashton’s hand trembling slightly. He was puzzled as to why the attendants seemed to fear him. It was as if his memory had been cleanly severed—he remembered nothing.

But since he couldn’t speak, he had no way to ask. So Jaha simply sat there, motionless, like a wooden puppet.

He could hear every word of Marsilia and Serez’s conversation, but since they were mostly discussing work, he paid no attention.

All he could do was wait. Wait for Marsilia to finally explain why he had brought him here.

After a couple of hours, Marsilia finally rose from his seat and called for Ashton.

“Ashton, I’m going to wash up. Bring breakfast in the meantime—Jaha’s as well. He only had some bland soup, so he must be hungry.”

“Understood, Your Majesty. Should I prepare something for Count Hastings as well?”

Serez smiled good-naturedly and declined.

“I already ate earlier. But, Your Majesty, will you be long?”

“I’m tired, so I thought I’d take a bath. Why?”

“I just… I’d prefer if you didn’t stay away too long.”

There was an inexplicable fear in Serez’s voice.

Marsilia turned his gaze toward Jaha and approached the bed.

For such a large man, he moved with surprising elegance. His steps made no sound, and his joints and spine moved with an effortless fluidity. Jaha suspected he must be quite skilled.

Marsilia sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed a handful of Jaha’s hair.

After inhaling the scent of the strands he had pulled at will, he called Jaha’s name.

“Jaha, behave yourself while I’m gone. We’ll have breakfast together when I return.”

He didn’t even wait for Jaha’s response. Without looking back, he strode out of the room, leaving behind an unsettling silence.

The cautious breathing, the furtive glances—they were unpleasantly noticeable. Even Serez, who had been flipping through documents, kept glancing at Jaha.

A strange discomfort filled the room until Marsilia returned. Fortunately, it seemed he had only washed his hair, as he came back sooner than expected, shaking out his damp locks with a refreshed expression.

“Ashton, prepare some water for Jaha.”

Marsilia’s short blond hair, now wet, appeared darker than usual.

He roughly dried his corn-silk-like hair with a towel before draping it over his shoulder and approaching Jaha.

At that moment, another attendant brought in a basin of warm water and set it on a small stool beside the bed.

“I’ll do it. Leave us.”

The emperor, standing on the opposite side of the stool, suddenly leaped onto the bed.

Startled by the large man’s unexpected movement, Jaha instinctively pulled his outstretched legs closer, bending his knees.

Without hesitation, Marsilia pulled back the blanket covering Jaha and wedged himself near his legs.

Dipping a cloth into the water, he reached out his hand toward Jaha.

As Jaha merely stared at him, Marsilia took his hand at will and began wiping it.

His movements were awkward, as if he had never done this before.

Which made sense—someone in his position wouldn’t be accustomed to attending to others like this.

Yet, why was he doing it so naturally?

What did that name he spoke mean, that it made him act this way?

Jaha watched him in silence as Marsilia focused on cleaning his hand.

There was a distinct furrow between his brows—a mark of concentration. His facial muscles seemed completely unguarded, as if he had forgotten to control them.

After finishing with Jaha’s hands, Marsilia dipped the cloth into the water again and brought it to his face.

He gently tucked the stray strands of Jaha’s hair behind his ears, his touch unusually careful.

The damp cloth was soft against his skin, but the gaze watching him was even softer.

After wiping his lips and chin, Marsilia placed a warm hand on Jaha’s forehead and lifted his downcast eyes.

Their gazes met, but Jaha couldn’t decipher what lay in his.

If only he would just explain.

But perhaps because he thought Jaha wouldn’t understand him, he didn’t even try.

What a strange man. He didn’t avoid speaking altogether, but the things Jaha most wanted to know—those, he kept silent about.

After wiping Jaha’s face a few more times, he rested his palm briefly against his cheek.

His hands ran hotter than most, and the warmth seared against Jaha’s skin.

Marsilia’s quiet gaze traced his face before he finally pulled away.

The lingering heat where his hand had been quickly dissipated into the air.

Marsilia stood from the bed and turned to Serez, who was seated by the desk.

“What’s the update on the interpreter?”

“I’m still waiting for a response. It’s only been a day, so we’ll have to be patient, Your Majesty. I’ve requested them to reply as soon as possible.”

“I see.”

Marsilia stood in thought for a moment before suddenly shrugging off his tunic.

The attendants all froze in surprise, but he paid them no mind.

Jaha, who had just sat back against the bed, widened his eyes.

On Marsilia’s chest, glowing faintly, was a name.

Marsilia must have noticed his reaction, because he pointed at his chest and spoke.

“Jaha.”

As if inviting him to touch it, he tapped the spot with his fingers.

Jaha hesitated before reaching out.

At the very center of his broad left pectoral, Jaha’s name was inscribed in Chinese characters.

His name.

Jaha’s lips parted in shock, and Marsilia smiled as if he understood.

“Yes, your name.”

He grabbed Jaha’s wrist and pulled him closer.

His palm pressed against the firm, warm chest, covering the name.

Beneath it, he could feel the slow, steady thump of a heartbeat.

“It’s right over my heart.”

Marsilia whispered hoarsely, as if parched.

Jaha, staring at his own hand resting on Marsilia’s chest, lifted his gaze to meet his.

What does this mean?

Marsilia didn’t answer.

Or perhaps he understood but chose not to.

Jaha frowned slightly. He couldn’t make sense of any of this.

Why did Marsilia keep emphasizing this name?

Jaha could tell he wanted something.

But he had met this man for the first time yesterday.

Perhaps Marsilia was in his fragmented memories somewhere, but as far as Yu Jaha recalled, he was a complete stranger.

Yet why did he look at him with such longing?

Jaha turned his head away, avoiding his gaze.

Then, shaking off his grip, he heard Marsilia chuckle lowly.

“Not being able to communicate is driving me insane.”

Grumbling under his breath, Marsilia pulled his tunic back on and turned toward the waiting attendants.

And with that, he fell silent again, leaving Jaha with more questions than answers.

Jaha had never considered himself particularly talkative, but for once, his inability to speak felt suffocating.

Still, he didn’t call him back.

Even if he did, what good would it do?

Marsilia wanted something, but Jaha had nothing to give.

And he didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to do anything at all.

And then, he realized—why wasn’t he trying to find his sister?

For two years, he had roamed the western continent searching for her.

Why did he suddenly not care?

He barely even remembered arriving in the capital.

Trying to retrace his steps, his hand resting on the bed began to tremble.

Marsilia, now fully dressed, stood watching him.

Jaha felt his gaze fix on his quivering fingers.

He clenched his hand into a fist.

Then, a large, warm hand covered his.

A green wind blew.

Cool air wrapped around him, making him instinctively lift his head toward its source.

Marsilia’s still-damp blond hair fluttered in the breeze.

As Jaha raised his eyes, the green light enveloping him grew even stronger.

Bathed in its blinding radiance, Jaha closed his eyes, suddenly overwhelmed.

“Sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake.”

Marsilia’s palm covered his eyes.

The warmth transferred onto him, making Jaha part his lips urgently.

No. Stop.

It felt like Marsilia was stealing something crucial from him.

Don’t.

But his silent plea never reached him.

Perhaps, just like the entire day before, Marsilia was simply ignoring it.

Not that it mattered for long.

As the light around him thickened, Jaha’s consciousness sank into darkness.