Chapter 185 - The Embers Become Flames Again (2)

"I am sorry."

The Prince of Dotrin did not know what to do as he looked at the father and son.

"I am truly sorry."

As if all the disasters had happened because of him, he kept his head bowed low and continued to apologize repeatedly.

The King opened his mouth.

His completely dry lips parted a few times before freezing shut again.

The King parted his lips once more.

But this time as well, no sound flowed out.

Like that, the King moved his lips silently over and over again. As if he had forgotten how to speak.

"Your Majesty."

Unable to watch any longer, the Commander of the Royal Knights called out to the King with a face full of sorrow.

The King did not answer.

"Your Majesty!"

The old knight called out to the King, turning pale.

Only then did the King let out a sound.

"I am simply grateful for the prince's hard work in coming all this way in such harsh weather to deliver the news."

His voice was so dry, as if every last drop of moisture had been drained from his body, that it made the listeners' chests tighten.

"With the weather like this, the wyverns will not be able to fly again, so I will prepare a place to rest. Thus, let the Prince of Dotrin relieve his physical and mental fatigue as much as he desires. Though you may not feel at ease since this is a fortress in wartime, the enemy is naturally busy preparing for winter on such harsh days, so set aside your worries."

The King laid out instructions with a parched voice.

"It seems the snowstorm is growing stronger. My lords, you must check once again to ensure the citadel's supplies do not get wet or freeze."

"Your Majesty."

"They say it is less cold on days when it snows, but it seems that is not the case. Seeing how exceptionally cold it is today. The exhaustion of the soldiers on the walls must be beyond words, so release the stockpiled supplies so they can warm their bodies."

The King, who had kept his mouth shut for a long while just moments ago as if he had forgotten how to speak, was now stringing words together without rest.

"Lighting bonfires on the walls would also be quite..."

"Your Majesty!"

The Commander of the Royal Knights insolently raised his voice and interrupted the King.

"Leave the matters of the citadel to us, and please retire to your bedchamber for today."

At the old knight's words, the King opened his mouth soundlessly before closing it.

The King turned his body.

However, the King did not take a step. He just stood there blankly with his back turned, endlessly lingering.

Then, after a long while, he asked.

"Did they find... her body?"

He was asking what happened to the Queen's corpse.

"It has not been found yet."

At that answer, the King looked up at the sky.

Perhaps because of the snow piling up on his head and shoulders, the King's back looked exceptionally frail and faint.

"I give my thanks once more to the prince's hard work in coming and going across such a long distance without hesitation to deliver the news, and I hope you will not experience any discomfort during your stay."

Having offered his words of appreciation once more with a sunken voice, the King simply disappeared. The Prince of Dotrin, who lingered a moment longer, also left the area as if fleeing.

All that remained were the First Prince and his knights.

Arwen could not take her eyes off her master the entire time.

The prince was so calm that it was hard to believe he was someone who had just heard the news of his mother's death.

And so, he looked even more abnormal.

"Your Highness."

Arwen called out to the prince with a deeply subdued voice.

"Huh? Yeah."

The prince answered with a start, his shoulders trembling.

"The wind is cold. You should head inside now."

"I should. I should go inside."

The prince's answer sounded somewhat absentminded, and his pupils were shaking, unable to find a place to settle.

She had seen the prince like that in the past.

When he had barely regained consciousness after losing it due to near-fatal wounds from the battle with the Warlord.

The prince back then was exactly like this.

She felt so heartbroken by the sight that she could not bring herself to offer words of comfort, but the tactless young lord of the Eli family abruptly asked.

"U-Um. Are you alright?"

"About what?"

When the prince asked back, the young lord of the Eli family could not bring himself to bring up the Queen's death again and hesitated, at a loss for words.

"Y-You really don't need to pretend to be so calm in front of us."

The words he finally managed to come up with left even the listeners dumbfounded as to whether it was meant to be comfort or what.

If she had not known his sincerity in caring for the prince, Arwen would have immediately sealed the tactless man's mouth.

In the most violent way possible.

"Young lord of the Eli family."

"Dame Arwen?"

"Shut your mouth."

But she did not fail to understand the reason the young lord of the Eli family had clumsily spoken up, so she simply advised him to shut his mouth.

At that fierce voice, the young lord of the Eli family flinched and covered his mouth.

"What is it? Why are you all looking at me with those faces?"

The prince spoke in a deliberately cheerful tone.

"I'm fine. I'm really okay."

Without even knowing what his own expression looked like. Without even knowing how his own voice sounded to others.

Tears had already blurred the edges of the soft-hearted Adelia Bayern's eyes, and even the tactless young lord of the Eli family was pale-faced, merely biting his lip.

The other knights as well set aside their anger toward the Empire and were looking at the prince with pity.

"I said I'm really fine."

The prince spoke again.

It didn't look like a lie; he genuinely seemed to think so. That made it even more pitiful, and Arwen's chest felt tight.

To her, the current prince looked just like a little child who had committed a grave wrongdoing.

Restless because he had not received the punishment he deserved.

Just like back then, when he considered his uncle's death his own fault and suffered all alone.

"Ah, seriously. I said I'm fine, yet you're all still like this."

The prince burst out in anger.

"I told you not to look at me like that!"

He huffed for a moment, then turned around and walked ahead alone. Adelia Bayern disappeared after him with quick steps.

Arwen let out a small sigh.

And then she moved her steps in the direction the prince had disappeared.

* * *

When I first regained my senses, the Queen was just an uncomfortable existence.

It was deeply uncomfortable that she looked at me with such utmost sincerity the entire time, completely unaware that a strange bastard had taken over her son's body.

It was so unbearably awkward that I avoided the Queen by making all sorts of excuses.

If possible, I wanted to avoid running into her.

And when I inevitably had to face her, I only schemed of ways to somehow leave the room.

['Why do you not look your mother straight in the eye?']

['You no longer even call me Mother.']

Whether the Queen also wasn't unaware of my feelings, she would sometimes show signs of sadness or display a sorrowful face.

Despite that, she constantly sought me out.

Pathetically enough, I even closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. At those times, she would wordlessly sit by my bedside and stay for a long while before leaving. Fidgeting with my mere hands as if they meant something, before taking her leave.

After she left, I had to stay there blankly for a long time.

The warmth lingering on the back of my hand, my palm, and my fingers bothered me the entire time.

A kind of emotion I had never felt before, but I knew.

The profound love and unconditional warmth she showed were not directed at me.

It was merely maternal love directed at her real son, the original owner of the body.

Because I knew that, she made me even more uncomfortable.

Because her maternal affection and love were reminders of my sin of taking over another person's body.

It was different from the King or the others.

They wanted something from me.

I petty-mindedly considered it enough to fulfill what they wanted.

Since they did not like the original owner of the body in the first place, I thought the praise and emotions they sent regarding what I had achieved now belonged to me.

But the Queen was different. She wanted nothing from me.

Furthermore, she was the only person who loved the original owner of this body, whom everyone else detested.

I did not know of any way to pay the price for that unconditional love.

As time passed, those feelings of mine did not shrink, but instead only grew larger, and later on, just hearing her voice was enough to make my chest feel suffocated.

To me, the Queen was such an uncomfortable and awkward existence.

So I thought I wouldn't feel much of anything if she died. Perhaps, coldheartedly, I even thought I might feel relieved instead.

But I was wrong.

"However, it has been confirmed that the Queen of your nation was not included among those who safely escaped the area."

The moment I heard Doris's words, my heart sank.

"I will say it again. The Queen of your nation drew the enemy's attention and resisted until the very end, and at the last moment, she threw herself off the wall."

An unknown emotion welled up from deep within my body.

It was not sorrow.

There hadn't been enough emotional exchange between us during her life for me to suddenly feel sorrow over her death now.

Because the relationship between the Queen and I was naturally one where she unilaterally gave.

It was different from when my uncle passed.

Back then, I clearly knew what emotion I was feeling.

But not now.

Even I could not understand my own heart.

I was just confused.

Perhaps that was why.

That I could not bear Arwen and the others looking at me with pity—perhaps that was why.

Their gazes felt as if they were reproaching me.

It felt like they were pointing fingers at me for not even mourning my mother's death, like they were rebuking my shamelessness for taking over another's body.

Of course, I knew as well.

That such feelings of mine were nothing more than an inferiority complex.

But even knowing that, I could not control my heart.

In the end, I burst out in anger and fled the area.

It was a truly childish action, putting my hundreds of years as a sword and the mindset of a Master to shame.

My chest felt suffocated as if tightly blocked.

The suffocation only grew because I couldn't figure out what this emotion plugging my insides like a giant boulder was.

I grabbed my sword.

Hoping that swinging my sword for a bout would ease the suffocation, I shook off those trying to stop me due to the harsh weather and headed to the citadel's clearing.

I inhaled deeply the air that had become noticeably colder in a short span.

No matter how much cold air I breathed in, my suffocated insides did not ease.

I swung my sword like a madman.

I recited a poem and swung my sword until all the mana drained from my body.

Then, exhausted, I slumped to the ground.

The suffocation remained the same.

As I sat blankly, staring up at the sky endlessly, someone draped a fur over my shoulders.

"Your body is like ice. Stop now and get up."

It was Arwen's voice.

When I turned my head, I saw Adelia with tears brimming in her eyes and Arwen with a stiff face.

It seemed that Adelia, unable to watch me rampage like a madman in the blizzard, had brought Arwen over.

I looked at them for a moment before turning my head back.

"Your Highness."

When I did not stand, she forcefully hoisted my body up.

And then she forcefully dragged me along.

I.

"Ah."

I only let out a foolishly absentminded sound and walked as she led.

When I regained my senses, I was on a bed, wearing completely dry clothes.

I felt a chill.

Even though my body was that of a Sword Master, which couldn't possibly be harmed by being hit by a bit of snow.

My body shivered uncontrollably.

I gripped the edge of the blanket and curled up my body.

I suffered from a fever all night.

In my delirious state, I heard someone's voice.

Saying that there was no need to look for a reason for anger and sorrow.

If I was sad, I should cry, and if I was angry, I should get angry.

And that from now on, he too would do the same.

I tried to ask who it was, but my lips wouldn't part.

All that flowed from between my teeth were groaning moans.

And when the next day came, I got up from my bed perfectly fine.

The boiling high fever and the suffocation that had pressed down on my chest had completely vanished like a lie.

"Your Highness!"

Adelia, whose complexion was haggard as if she had stayed by my side all night, threw herself into my arms with tear-filled eyes.

A step away, Arwen was looking at me with an equally haggard complexion.

"I caused you unnecessary worry."

"You have recovered now, so that is enough."

Arwen replied with a face full of relief.

"But did someone come by during the night?"

When I asked while stroking the hair of Adelia, who was sobbing loudly for whatever reason she found so sorrowful, Arwen nodded.

"His Majesty visited during the night."

"His Majesty did?"

"He did not stay long, but while he was here, he personally tended to Your Highness's body."

"His Majesty personally changed the wet towels and wiped Your Highness's sweat as well."

Adelia added to Arwen's answer with a stuffy, tearful voice.

The moment I heard those words, I ended up unconsciously furrowing my brow.

Aside from what the King's feelings must be after losing the companion he had spent his entire life with, it was because the voice I had heard in my delirious state weighed on my mind.

"I will go to His Majesty."

I immediately sought out the King.

The King, whom I had thought would be secluding himself due to the heartbreak of losing his companion, was in the citadel's conference room, not his bedchamber.

"It seems you are fully recovered."

The hair of the King, who welcomed me as if nothing was wrong, had turned completely white.

However, unlike his faded white hair, his eyes were sharper than ever before.

"Once the snowstorm stops, I will be leaving the citadel for a while. While I am gone, the prince is to do his utmost to manage the citadel."

His voice was the same.

"Leaving the citadel? What do you mean?"

When I asked with a furrowed brow at his sudden words, the King replied calmly.

"Should we not return as much as we have received?"