The morning air was filled with the scent of damp earth and the distant, chaotic roar of the marketplace.
Merchants shilled their wares, women laughed over baskets of grain, and drunks stirred in the gutters.
It was a "fine morning," right up until the clouds bruised purple and the rain began to fall.
"Brother Zi! Please, we'll be soaked to the bone!"
Riru, barely fourteen and radiating anxiety, tugged at her brother's sleeve.
Zaliyah didn't move. He stood in the middle of the downpour, eyes locked on the weeping sky as if he were in a trance.
To the humans, it was just weather but to him, the rain felt like a memory he couldn't quite reach.
A sudden jolt to his shoulder broke the spell. A man had collided with him, hard. Zaliyah's brows furrowed, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous silkiness. "You're just going to walk away after almost dislocating my arm?" He rolled his eyes.
The stranger paused. Beneath the shadow of a wide-brimmed hat, a smirk played on his lips. "My earnest apologies. Does the young master require anything more?"
Zaliyah let out a sharp, annoyed tsk. He didn't like the way the man looked at him like he was a puzzle to be solved. Grabbing Riru's hand, he pulled her away into the crowd.
Behind them, Malachi the Messenger of Death watched them vanish. "Such a delicate person," he whispered to the rain. "I wonder what lies beneath that skin."
The Ruohan Residence was less of a home and more of a fortress of luxury. A fifteen-minute walk from the iron gates led to a grandiose villa, guarded by men who looked more like soldiers than watchmen.
Rica, the head maid, stood at the backdoor with the posture of a queen. She was in her late thirties, though her sharp almond eyes and flawless skin suggested a woman ten years younger.
She watched with a practiced, thin smile as Zaliyah and Riru sneaked in through the garden.
"Welcome back, Mistress Riru," Rica said, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. "Did you enjoy your little escapade?"
Riru jumped, her face pale. "Oh... no. Brother Zi, we've been caught."
The line of maids bowed in unison. "Welcome back, Young Master Zaliyah."
Zaliyah rolled his eyes. He could hear their heartbeats fast, annoyed, and laced with a hostility they weren't brave enough to voice.
He knew what they called him when he wasn't around "The Abandoned. The Rubbish".
He tossed his wet hat to Solar, a timid thirteen-year-old maid who shrank away from his touch. As Riru was whisked away to change, Zaliyah lingered.
The rain had stopped, leaving the sky a dull, miserable gray. He loved it. It resonated with the hollow space in his chest.
Nearby, two maids Zora and Cisca whispered, thinking they were out of earshot.
"Always so moody," Zora hissed. "You'd think he was actually blood-related the way he rolls his eyes at us."
"No wonder he was abandoned," Cisca added with a cruel giggle. "His real parents probably knew what a nightmare he'd be."
Zaliyah's brow twitched. He turned his head slowly, catching their gaze with eyes that felt like ice water. The maids gasped, scattering like frightened birds.
He made his way to his quarters, the scent of sandalwood and fresh flowers reaching him long before he opened the door. No different than a dog, he thought bitterly. He could track his mother, Riosuka, by her scent alone from a mile away.
Riosuka sat elegantly on his bed. When he entered, her face softened into a smile. "You're drenched, Zaliyah."
She had found him eighteen years ago, a miracle in the mist, and though she knew he was different, oddly quiet, strangely perceptive, she loved him with a fierce, protective devotion.
Zaliyah didn't speak. He walked over and gently patted her head , a strange, lingering habit from his infancy that he refused to outgrow.
"You had another trance, didn't you?" she asked softly. "This is why I don't like you out in the rain."
"Riru wanted that book," he finally muttered. "I couldn't say no."
Riosuka huffed, though there was no real anger in it. "That girl... she'll be the death of us both." She reached out, cup-ping his face. Her smile faltered when she looked into his eyes. Even after all these years, Zaliyah's purple eyes were like looking into a bottomless pit of nothingness.
"Should I just pluck them out?" Zaliyah asked, his voice flat. "Then you wouldn't have to look at the sadness in them."
"Shut up, you silly boy," she scolded, though her heart ached.
She gestured for him to lie down, and he rested his head on her lap. As she ran her fingers through his long, white silky hair, she produced a wooden box with a floral design.
Inside were tulips extinct, rare, and vibrant.
For the first time that day, the coldness in Zaliyah's eyes flickered. He loved the earth. He loved things that grew.
"The gardener has already planted more in the front," Riosuka whispered. "I want to see you smile more, Zaliyah. Less eye-rolling, more tulips."
Zaliyah let out a faint, genuine laugh. "Sure."
He clutched the box and a rare book of poetry she had found for him, but beneath the joy, a familiar ache tugged at his heart. He knew why she was being so kind today.
She was trying to distract him from the inevitable.
Lord Caius was returning.
Zaliyah closed his eyes, drifting into a heavy sleep as his mother's hand continued to stroke his hair.
What do I have to do, she thought, to make you feel like you belong to this world?