The sun was high, pouring its golden warmth through the hospital garden where only a few children played and laughed among the flowers. The rest of the place was quiet, peaceful, wrapped in soft afternoon stillness.
Alina sat on the wooden bench beside Dante, feeling awkward without knowing why. Every ti she glanced at him, her heart gave a tiny flutter. The sunlight fell across his face, lighting his sharp features, making his disguise’s green eyes appear even brighter like polished glass touched by gold. His skin looked flawless, almost too perfect, and his calm composure made her even more aware of herself.
He broke the silence first. "So, Miss Alina... did you ever have a boyfriend in the past?"
Alina’s eyes widened. "Huh? What kind of question is that?" she blurted before quickly lowering her gaze, her cheeks warming.
Dante’s lips curved faintly. "Just curious," he said, studying her expression carefully.
Why is he asking that? she thought, glancing at him suspiciously. But when she t his eyes again, there was no mockery there—only quiet interest, as though her answer truly mattered.
"Well..." she began softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I was always so busy with my studies. I never really got ti for such things. Sotis I thought about dating, but then I’d feel guilty, like I wouldn’t be able to give my partner enough ti. And I had to take care of my mom too." She smiled faintly, though a small longing stirred in her voice. "But sotis, I do wish I had soone—a person I could share everything with. Soone who understands without judging."
Dante listened in silence, his expression unreadable, though sothing in his eyes softened.
Alina tilted her head, trying to lighten the mood. "What about you, sir? And your wife?"
The change in Dante’s face was imdiate. His calm turned stiff; his jaw tightened, his hands folded neatly in his lap. "My wife?" he repeated, his voice quiet but almost strained.
Alina’s eyes widened. "Oh no—I’m sorry! I didn’t an to sound rude—"
He shook his head quickly, forcing a faint smile. "It’s alright. But... I don’t have a wife. I’ve been single all my life."
She blinked. "Wait—really? Then where did Lucien co from?"
Her words slipped out before she could stop them. Realizing how it sounded, she froze, her face turning red. Oh no... what am I even saying?!
To her surprise, Dante actually chuckled softly. "No, Lucien isn’t my son," he said gently. "He’s my elder brother’s child. We’re twins—he’s five minutes older than ."
"Twins?!" Alina gasped.
"Yes," Dante said, leaning back slightly. "We look almost identical, but we were never truly alike. He was good with people—charismatic, kind, everyone liked him instantly. I was... different." His gaze drifted toward the sunlight. "He spoke with his heart. I led with my mind."
He had never told anyone about his inner thoughts, but here he was, speaking his buried story to a little human teacher.
"And he was loved by everyone so much," Dante continued softly, his voice carrying both affection and quiet bitterness. "Even though I loved him, everyone’s attention was always on him. Back then, I used to be so jealous of him." He smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "Only later did I realize we were two different people, and I stopped comparing myself."
Alina listened silently, her gaze steady, giving him the calm space to speak. That silent patience made him feel strangely at ease, like she wasn’t judging—just understanding.
He looked up at the sky, sunlight flickering through the leaves above them. "His wife was a goddess—she ruled over morals, behavior, and purity. They were the perfect couple, powerful and balanced. Everyone admired them... even I did. I used to wonder how such perfection could exist." His voice dropped, heavy with an old ache. "And sotis I wondered why he always got the things I couldn’t. I was immature. Foolish."
A brief silence followed before he whispered, "Once, I even tried to break them apart. I caused a misunderstanding between them."
Alina’s brows lifted slightly, but she didn’t interrupt—only listened with quiet seriousness.
Dante exhaled slowly. "He found out. He was furious... but instead of punishing , he asked, ’Did I do sothing wrong to make you hate ?’" His eyes lowered, his tone turning hollow. "I couldn’t answer him. I was ashad of myself. He was... too good. Better than I deserved."
He paused again, staring at his hands before continuing, his voice quieter. "Then the war broke out—Shadow Demons against the other demons. My sister-in-law was pregnant at the ti. I stayed behind to protect her while my brother led the army. She gave birth to Lucien safely, but when she heard that my brother had been captured, she ran to save him herself. She caused a storm strong enough to shake the entire realm..."
Alina’s heart tightened.
"...but her best friend betrayed her," Dante said quietly. "She was struck down before she could reach him. And my brother—he was never captured. When he found her body, he lost control. He destroyed everything. By the ti I reached the battlefield, the entire war zone was drenched in blood." His jaw clenched, his eyes darkened. "He had killed everyone. And then... he ended his own life beside her."
Alina’s breath hitched softly, her hand pressed to her heart. "That’s... heartbreaking."
Dante gave a small nod. "I was devastated. For a long ti, I didn’t know what to do. But Lucien was just a newborn—helpless. I couldn’t collapse. I had to beco stronger. After my brother’s death, everything fell on —his na, his kingdom, his responsibilities. I changed after that. I had to."
The breeze moved softly between them, carrying the faint scent of hospital flowers.
When he finally turned his head, he froze. Alina was crying.
"Alina?" he said quickly, his eyes widening. "What’s wrong with you?" There was genuine panic in his tone, as though her tears were sothing he didn’t know how to handle.
Alina shook her head, trying to smile even as her voice trembled. "It’s just... your story," she whispered. "Your brother and his wife... they were true love. What they had—it’s so beautiful and heartbreaking." She wiped at her cheeks, her lashes still wet. "You’ve gone through so much, sir. I can’t even imagine. Living under comparison, feeling unseen, and then losing the ones you love... and still raising Lucien through all that pain."
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