Randall and Sylvia changed into their clothes and went out of the palace.
The National Foundation Day is tomorrow, but the people's festivals last for several days before and after the National Foundation Day, so the streets were bustling.
Sylvia, who was wearing a hood pulled down low, shook her hands with Randell back and forth and laughed.
"This is the first time that I've attended the National Foundation Day with you and my parents."
She looked unusually excited as she said that.
That was understandable, because in her previous lives, she didn't feel the need to attend the National Foundation Day festival, and she didn't feel any emotion when she passed through this street.
Besides, when she came out with the Count and his wife, she had to act according to the Countess's interests rather than her own. In a way, it was natural.
However, Sylvia had regained her will to live.
Also, she felt excited like a child because her loved one was by her side.
Sylvia looked around with curious eyes.
Randall watched her with eyes dripping with affection.
'Thank goodness.'
Sylvia's mood certainly seemed much better than before.
There was no shadow on her lips, and her eyes shone ceaselessly.
Randall was relieved that Sylvia was feeling better, but he was also sure that she had something on her mind.
He tightened Sylvia's cloak knot and made a mental note.
'I'll ask her later when she feels much better.'
Randall took his hand off the knot and held Sylvia's hand tightly, smiling brightly.
"Shall we go, Madam?"
"Yes."
The two walked around the streets, holding hands.
The place where the Countess had shot arrows was still being run by the same young man.
Sylvia and Randall shot arrows carefully so as not to let the young man see them, and this time Randall made the young man cry and won a special prize.
Sylvia felt a little sorry for him when he cried, 'This time, I got it at a real fair auction!'
“It’s a gift, Sylvia.”
Randall put the necklace he won in the archery competition around Sylvia’s neck.
Randall continued to participate in many competitions, sweeping up all the prizes and giving them all to Sylvia.
Eventually, there were so many ornaments wrapped around his fingers, wrists, and neck that he had no place to hang new ones.
“Enough, Randall.”
“But...”
“...Leave the ankles alone.”
“Yes...”
Randall, who had heard the request, glanced at Sylvia’s empty ankles with eyes dripping with regret.
Sylvia touched her forehead.
This was a serious illness. The weight of the ornaments was making her neck hurt.
As she shook her head, a faint pink flower suddenly came into her sight.
‘What is it?’
It felt familiar.
Sylvia frowned, thinking, “Where have I seen that flower?” Then, in surprise, she grabbed Randall’s arm and pulled him close.
“Randall, this way. Get away from there.”
“Sylvia? Why...?”
“You’re allergic to siren pollen, I heard. Philia said that.”
Sylvia kept glancing at the flower shop’s stall with anxious eyes.
It wouldn’t be good for Randall to be this close to siren flowers...
“No.”
“...What?”
“When I was little, Philia tried to knead siren flowers and leaves with a stone and feed them to me, so I was trying to avoid that...Do you still believe that?”
“When I was little, Philia tried to knead siren flowers and leaves with a stone and feed them to me, so I was trying to avoid that...Do you still believe that?”
“...”
“Madam?”
Randall looked at Sylvia in bewilderment.
Sylvia couldn’t even think of answering his words and trembled inside.
“Madam?”
Randall looked at Sylvia in bewilderment.
Sylvia couldn’t even think of answering his words and trembled inside.
‘Philia...'
At that ominous muttering, Philia, who was in the middle of returning north, shook her shoulders for a moment, but Sylvia didn’t know.
‘Even if I try to think about it, I don’t think she’ll remember...’
Thinking back on how much she had dug into Philia’s words at the time, she felt a new sense of emptiness.
Sylvia shook her head and let Randall go.
“Well, that’s fortunate. Then, would you like to take a quick look around?”
“Good. But how on earth did you have that conversation with Philia?”
“...You’ll be hurt if you find out.”
She would never tell the story of how she had pushed him away because she had become jealous of Philia’s words.
Sylvia made that determination in her heart as she approached the flower shop’s stall.
“Oh my, come in! Take your time looking around.”
The owner, who had been trimming flowers at the back of the stall, quickly got up and greeted the two.
She blurted out words that seemed familiar.
“Are you a newlywed? All the flowers in our house will wither because of your beauty, really!”
“If that happens, I’ll pay you.”
“...You’re just joking, ma’am. What if you take it a step further?”
When Randall answered seriously to the owner’s teasing, Sylvia, embarrassed, slapped him on the arm without making him hate her.
However, a helpless smile appeared on her lips.
“...!”
At that ominous muttering, Philia, who was in the middle of returning north, shook her shoulders for a moment, but Sylvia didn’t know.
‘Even if I try to think about it, I don’t think she’ll remember...’
Thinking back on how much she had dug into Philia’s words at the time, she felt a new sense of emptiness.
Sylvia shook her head and let Randall go.
“Well, that’s fortunate. Then, would you like to take a quick look around?”
“Good. But how on earth did you have that conversation with Philia?”
“...You’ll be hurt if you find out.”
She would never tell the story of how she had pushed him away because she had become jealous of Philia’s words.
Sylvia made that determination in her heart as she approached the flower shop’s stall.
“Oh my, come in! Take your time looking around.”
The owner, who had been trimming flowers at the back of the stall, quickly got up and greeted the two.
She blurted out words that seemed familiar.
“Are you a newlywed? All the flowers in our house will wither because of your beauty, really!”
“If that happens, I’ll pay you.”
“...You’re just joking, ma’am. What if you take it a step further?”
When Randall answered seriously to the owner’s teasing, Sylvia, embarrassed, slapped him on the arm without making him hate her.
However, a helpless smile appeared on her lips.
“...!”
At that moment, Randall, who had been laughing playfully, suddenly turned his head.
The smile disappeared from his face in an instant.
His light green eyes narrowed and he stared at the other side of the crowded street.
“Randall? What’s wrong?”
Sylvia felt something unusual in Randall’s attitude and got up.
She looked around with a sense of urgency, but she was even more puzzled because she didn’t sense any other dangerous aura.
Randall calmed his expression at Sylvia’s voice.
He hesitated and said to her,
“Sylvia.”
“Yes?”
“It’s nothing, but I need to check something out. Could you wait here for a moment?”
“...It’s not dangerous, right?”
“I swear it’s not.”
“Yes, you'll have to tell me when you get back.”
Randall nodded.
Since he hadn’t lied to her, Sylvia decided to let him go without a hitch.
Before leaving, Randall handed the florist a small coin pouch.
The florist was startled by the heavy pouch and waved his hand.
“T-this is too much! The flowers you picked are enough for one.”
“In addition to the price of the other flowers, you can look after the lady for a moment while I’m away. This is the price.”
“...Yes.”
The florist, who had been conflicted by Randall’s words, eventually bowed and accepted the pouch.
Randall hugged Sylvia once and disappeared into the crowd. Sylvia looked in the direction he had disappeared for a moment, and the florist rolled up his sleeves and approached her.
“Don’t stand there, sit down! I’ll put a chair over here, so you can look around comfortably.”
Since that wasn’t too much of a burden, Sylvia expressed her gratitude and sat down on the chair the owner had given her.
Mixing various flowers to make a bouquet was quite fun and rewarding.
Sylvia was absorbed in making the bouquet for a while.
“Come on, this isn’t an opportunity that comes every day! To celebrate the founding of the nation, I’ll give you a special fortune for today and tomorrow! I’ll tell you your future at half price!”
Then, suddenly, a familiar voice came into her ear.
Sylvia unconsciously raised her head and widened her eyes when she found something.
“...A fortuneteller?”
The one who was loudly soliciting customers from across the street from where Sylvia was sitting was definitely the fortuneteller she had seen in the Belfort estate.
The one who had said the words ‘strange soul’ to Randall, who had an unusual aura.
‘...Could it be that he had recognized Randall as Cleon since then and had said such things?’
Sylvia got up and approached the fortune teller to find out exactly what she meant.
The fortune teller beckoned to Sylvia as she approached her.
“Come in! What are you curious about? Compatibility with your lover? Or... Oh.”
As the distance grew closer, the face under the hood also became clearer.
The fortune teller blinked at Sylvia’s face, then suddenly got up and ran away in a panic.
“Hmm?”
Why on earth did she run away?
Puzzled, Sylvia decided to grab the fortune teller first.
When she swung her hand slightly under the cloak, the fortune teller’s cloak was fixed in midair as if it had been nailed.
"Th-what is this!”
The fortune teller, who had fallen to the floor with her feet tangled, struggled to hold onto the cloak that was motionless as if someone had grabbed her.
In the meantime, Sylvia walked leisurely and crouched down in front of the fortune teller.
“Grandma.”
“Where did you get treated as an old woman man! Call me Sister!”
“...Sister, why are you running away?”
“Then why are you chasing me! I did nothing wrong! I moved to the capital because business wasn’t going well!”
With those words, Sylvia was sure that the fortune teller remembered her and Randall’s meeting in the North.
She pulled her hood back a little further and asked,
“I didn’t come here to catch you either, Sister. But I was curious to know what exactly you meant when you told me that time.”
“Huh? What I told you then?”
“Yes. You clearly called my husband a ‘strange soul.’ What did you mean by that?”
“...Did I say that?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know.”
“Remember it well.”
"I don’t remember.”
As the fortune teller continued to pretend not to know, Sylvia turned her head and looked at the guards patrolling the streets.
The fortune teller furiously narrowed her brows.
“Damn it! Wait a minute, you damn thing! So...”
It was then that the fortune teller’s mutterings and incomprehensible words stopped.
Her body stiffened as if struck by lightning, and her eyes lost focus.
“...Sister?”
Sylvia, sensing something strange, called out to her, heightening her alertness.
And at the same time, the fortune teller’s frozen body began to move slowly.
Unlike her frivolous attitude, her movements were extremely calm and serious.
The fortune teller turned around and faced Sylvia head-on.
A strange light flowed from her unfocused eyes.
The moment Sylvia tried to direct her magic under her cloak.
“...It’s been a while, sinful soul.”
Was it a man or a woman? A voice that could not be said to be an old man or a child pierced her ear.
At that moment, the hairs on her body stood on end. Her golden eyes widened.
How could she forget that voice? How on earth?
While Sylvia froze, unable to breathe, the fortuneteller tilted her head slightly and muttered as if talking to herself.
“No, I shouldn’t call you that anymore.”
“..."
“I should call you Alyssa.”
She could no longer deny that it was a mistake.
Sylvia moved her lips with difficulty as if she was strangled.
A faint call seeped into the air.
“...God?”
Meanwhile, Randall, who had left Sylvia’s side, walked briskly with a stern face. He could sense his movements not far away and felt him running away in a hurry.
‘I’m sure.’
A moment ago, Randall had noticed the gazes on Sylvia, who was standing in front of the flower shop and was chasing after him.
Although he didn’t feel any murderous intent, the fact that he was watching her through the crowd was enough to alert Randall.
There was no harm in being prepared for danger.
Randall strode through the alley with his cloak’s hem fluttering like a grim reaper.
Soon, a man, wearing a similar cloak, came into view, running away from the end of the alley with his back turned.
The opponent was running at full speed, and Randall was just taking long strides, but the distance between them was getting closer.
“Where are you running away to?”
In the end, Randall’s hand grabbed the opponent’s shoulder violently.
The opponent reflexively resisted, but he easily held him down.
“Who on earth are you...?”
Randall glared at the man, who was lying on the ground, struggling, and pulled back the hood he was wearing.
Immediately after, his light green eyes widened in surprise.
“...Prince Radni?”
“Oh, slap! Arm! Arm! If you keep doing this, my arm will break!”
A suspicious figure was watching Sylvia.
He was Prince Trevan of Radni, who had greeted Randall once during the day.
“...Did I say that?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know.”
“Remember it well.”
"I don’t remember.”
As the fortune teller continued to pretend not to know, Sylvia turned her head and looked at the guards patrolling the streets.
The fortune teller furiously narrowed her brows.
“Damn it! Wait a minute, you damn thing! So...”
It was then that the fortune teller’s mutterings and incomprehensible words stopped.
Her body stiffened as if struck by lightning, and her eyes lost focus.
“...Sister?”
Sylvia, sensing something strange, called out to her, heightening her alertness.
And at the same time, the fortune teller’s frozen body began to move slowly.
Unlike her frivolous attitude, her movements were extremely calm and serious.
The fortune teller turned around and faced Sylvia head-on.
A strange light flowed from her unfocused eyes.
The moment Sylvia tried to direct her magic under her cloak.
“...It’s been a while, sinful soul.”
Was it a man or a woman? A voice that could not be said to be an old man or a child pierced her ear.
At that moment, the hairs on her body stood on end. Her golden eyes widened.
How could she forget that voice? How on earth?
While Sylvia froze, unable to breathe, the fortuneteller tilted her head slightly and muttered as if talking to herself.
“No, I shouldn’t call you that anymore.”
“..."
“I should call you Alyssa.”
She could no longer deny that it was a mistake.
Sylvia moved her lips with difficulty as if she was strangled.
A faint call seeped into the air.
“...God?”
***
Meanwhile, Randall, who had left Sylvia’s side, walked briskly with a stern face. He could sense his movements not far away and felt him running away in a hurry.
‘I’m sure.’
A moment ago, Randall had noticed the gazes on Sylvia, who was standing in front of the flower shop and was chasing after him.
Although he didn’t feel any murderous intent, the fact that he was watching her through the crowd was enough to alert Randall.
There was no harm in being prepared for danger.
Randall strode through the alley with his cloak’s hem fluttering like a grim reaper.
Soon, a man, wearing a similar cloak, came into view, running away from the end of the alley with his back turned.
The opponent was running at full speed, and Randall was just taking long strides, but the distance between them was getting closer.
“Where are you running away to?”
In the end, Randall’s hand grabbed the opponent’s shoulder violently.
The opponent reflexively resisted, but he easily held him down.
“Who on earth are you...?”
Randall glared at the man, who was lying on the ground, struggling, and pulled back the hood he was wearing.
Immediately after, his light green eyes widened in surprise.
“...Prince Radni?”
“Oh, slap! Arm! Arm! If you keep doing this, my arm will break!”
A suspicious figure was watching Sylvia.
He was Prince Trevan of Radni, who had greeted Randall once during the day.
Support Novellate!
Comments
Post a Comment