The Unlucky Bride Is Loved by the Fortunate Desert King - Chapter 35 – Unforgettable Spring (Flashback)

Humans are truly foolish creatures.

It had been several years since the day he first arrived in this country.

Euphorbia was now eighteen years old. It was about to be the third spring since he had met Ishtar.

His arms and legs had grown long, and the two boys — once so small and childlike — had become nearly indistinguishable from adults. Euphorbia looked out the palace window, at the scenery that had long since become familiar.

The days when he cried, wishing to return to the grasslands, were now a distant memory. The loneliness he had felt when he first came here, and the deep longing for his homeland — all of it had long faded away.

Of course, nostalgia remained. He sometimes wondered how his homeland was doing. But he no longer had the desperate wish to return at any cost.

“Yufi, you were here?” As he looked out the window, Ishtar came running toward him.

Ishtar was his only friend — the one person with whom he could speak about anything, freely and without fear.

To Euphorbia, Ishtar was the first true friend he had ever had — something he’d never known even in the Mughal Empire, his homeland.

Euphorbia had once amazed the entire palace with his skill in swordsmanship and horseback riding.
After that, he was assigned as Ishtar’s personal guard. Now, he also served as his instructor and adviser.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. The meeting just ended.” Euphorbia smiled, resting his hand on the hilt of the long sword at his waist.

He had quickly learned the local way of speaking, the easy tone of young people in this land.
He could have changed his speech, but Ishtar seemed to like the way he talked.

He figured that when he grew older, his speech would return to its original form anyway, so there was no need to force a change. Besides, few people minded it anymore.

“More importantly, are you sure you’re all right? You’ll catch a cold dressed like that.” Ishtar was wandering around wearing only a thin, pale blue robe. His slender frame looked so fragile that Euphorbia instinctively wrapped his own fur cloak around him.

“Yufi, you worry too much. I’m fine.” Ishtar smiled softly and gave a small, teasing shrug.

Though he had abandoned the name Yusuf and become Euphorbia, Ishtar didn’t want him to forget who he used to be. He had come up with a nickname — Yufi.

The nickname contained letters from both his old name and his new one.

—It had made Euphorbia truly happy.

He had given up his homeland’s name and accepted a new one. Even if that was unavoidable, part of him had always felt guilty — as though he were weighing his homeland and this new country on a scale.

But every time Ishtar called him “Yufi,” a warmth spread through his chest. It was as if Ishtar wrapped his old memories — the ones he had left behind — gently and lovingly in his voice. That nickname made Euphorbia feel both accepted and at peace in this foreign land.

Suddenly, Ishtar covered his mouth and coughed softly. Lately, his health had been poor. He had always suffered from weak lungs, but perhaps because of the changing seasons, his condition seemed worse.

“Ishtar…”
“Hehe, I’m all right,” Ishtar replied with a small smile.

Euphorbia pulled him close, wrapping an arm around his narrow waist.

“No, you’re not. If it gets worse, it’ll be a problem. Let’s go back for today.”
“Okay, okay. You’re such a strict guard.”
“And who is it that keeps trying to escape?”
“Ehehe, that’s… not true…”

Ishtar didn’t like staying cooped up in his room. He often tried to sneak out — and this time was no different.

Euphorbia sighed deeply and lifted him up in his arms.

“Y-Yufi!?” He was now about ten centimeters taller than Ishtar, and with his training as a royal guard, his strength had grown considerably. Carrying Ishtar in his arms was an easy task.

(He’s… light.) He hadn’t meant to think it, but Ishtar was noticeably lighter than the last time he had carried him. There was almost no weight in his arms. The realization filled him with unease.

“Well, well, the two of you are as close as ever,” a guard called out as they passed through the corridor.

“Ishtar refuses to listen,” Euphorbia muttered quietly. The guard chuckled, shaking his head.

“Still, the fact that His Highness allows himself to be carried by you shows how close you are. If any of us tried that, he’d never allow it.” “Is that so?”

That was news to him. When Euphorbia turned to ask, Ishtar’s face was red all the way to his ears.

Both Ishtar and Euphorbia had grown up and begun attending formal gatherings.
When the beautifully dressed Ishtar stood beside Euphorbia in his ceremonial military uniform, they were often mistaken for husband and wife.

People always thought Euphorbia was a soldier and Ishtar his lovely wife. And when they explained that they were actually a prince and his guard, everyone would stare in disbelief.

“We always get mistaken for a married couple, huh?” Ishtar said with a cheerful smile.
“That’s because you haven’t married yet. Don’t worry — once you do, no one will make that mistake again.”

Despite being the first in line to the throne, Ishtar had no interest in women.

The current king had only one wife and one child — Ishtar — so the throne would naturally go to him.
Yet Ishtar showed no ambition to rule. Many in the palace whispered that while everyone wanted him to produce an heir soon, he spent nearly all his time with Euphorbia instead.

Euphorbia himself had begun to feel uneasy whenever Ishtar got too close — when he hugged him or whispered in his ear.

(Could I be ill?)
As a royal guard, he couldn’t afford to be sick, so he went to see a physician. But the doctor found nothing wrong.

And yet… it wasn’t his imagination. Even now, with Ishtar gazing at him, Euphorbia felt strangely unsettled. Those clear blue eyes seemed to see right through him, and he quickly looked away.

“I-Ishtar… what is it?”
“I was just thinking… I haven’t seen you practice your swordsmanship lately.”
“It’s too cold outside. It would harm your health. You can watch my sword anytime. Once it’s warmer, I’ll show you again.”
“I see… yeah, you’re right…”

Still held in Euphorbia’s arms, Ishtar closed his eyes, as if to convince himself.

Their little world was completely shut off from the rest. Days spent inside the garden of the palace — quiet, peaceful, untouched by war or danger.

There were no enemies, no assassins, no threats.

And so, they had completely forgotten—that disturbances always begin as the smallest ripples.

And sometimes, those ripples don’t come from outside the walls… but from within.

The two of them, living so quietly in their little garden, could not have imagined it at all.

In the fourth spring, Ishtar’s condition suddenly worsened.

It was partly due to his weak lungs, but the true cause lay somewhere else entirely.

—Ishtar had conceived a child. It was an event so shocking, it could almost be called a scandal… or even a rebellion.

“Yufi, I feel really sleepy… and my body feels so heavy. I think I’ll go rest early today.” Ishtar said this one afternoon while Euphorbia was assisting him with official work.

Because Ishtar often fell ill, Euphorbia assumed it was just another one of those times. Looking back now, he realized how terribly careless that thought had been.

“I see. Maybe it’s the season change that’s making you tired. You should stop for today and get some rest.” That was where it all began. The gears of fate began to creak and shift, slowly but surely.

“Shall I call a doctor, just in case?”
“Mmm, no. I think I’ll be fine. Will you sleep with me, Yufi?” He no longer acted spoiled in front of others, but when they were alone, that side of him was still the same as ever.

“What are you saying? You won’t be able to rest properly if I’m beside you.” Usually, Euphorbia stayed with him until just before bedtime, finding excuses to linger.

But Ishtar, being the next king, had too many complex matters to deal with. The dark shadows beneath his eyes had grown deep.

He had been working hard to improve the kingdom’s medical system, particularly hospitals for children with weak bodies like his own. Because of his efforts, the country’s industries and technologies had made great progress.

He was, without a doubt, a wise ruler.

Aside from his frail health and somewhat introverted nature, Ishtar was the very picture of an ideal monarch.

“Yufi, about what we talked about before… what do you think?”
“…How it will turn out, I can’t say. But I’m sure there will be opposition.”

Ishtar had long made up his mind — he wished to renounce his right to the throne. He wanted to live on the grasslands with Euphorbia once everything was over.

Politics was a harsh and exhausting duty, far too much for his fragile body to bear. And even more, he no longer had the strength to dedicate his life to the throne.

Because of his great talent and ability, this decision came as a great shock to Euphorbia himself — and it would surely devastate Ishtar’s parents as well.

His face, as beautiful as a blooming rose that could make even the goddesses jealous, had not changed much since the day they met.

Perhaps it was the strain of recent days, but his pale face was marked with dark circles. Euphorbia gently brushed them away with his thumb. Ishtar closed his eyes, looking peaceful and content.

“I’ll retire early too tonight. That way, you’ll be able to rest more easily.”
It was a simple, kind suggestion — because he only wanted Ishtar to sleep well.

He never realized that everything had already been set in motion.

That night, Euphorbia left Ishtar’s side — for just one night.

That night, Yuzu never made it to her destination. She collapsed in the desert, exhausted and frightened, only to be cornered by men who sought to harm her.

Before the worst could happen, a stranger appeared—silent, swift, and deadly. He cut down the attackers with skill and precision, his movements sharp as wind and fire.

When Yuzu opened her eyes again, she saw him clearly for the first time: a man of striking beauty, his eyes fierce yet filled with quiet strength. He saved her without asking who she was, though it didn’t take him long to see through her disguise as a man.

The encounter marked the beginning of everything. In that moment of terror and rescue, fate bound them together— the girl who had lost her way in the sands, and the warrior who had no reason to save her, but did.