Thirty minutes passed. Else was stroking the knife in the early morning twilight. Every time she stroked the hard leather beneath her nails, her endlessly throbbing heart calmed down. It would all end anyway. It would all be over now. The doctor had said that the disease would take Else’s life, but...
Else will end her life with her own hands. She will cut off her own fate with her own hands and throw it into the fire. The corners of her lips went up. She liked it better. It felt like a more tragic and worthy death. She pulled her sword out of its scabbard. Unlike the royal swords with their ornate handles, the sword that Sybil wore at his waist was simple and without any design. It was so rough that it felt unsuitable for a King to wear on his waist.
But somehow, it was a sword that seemed like it could actually kill someone. It wasn't just a sword in terms of design. It was a sword that seemed like it could safely lead her to death. The bedroom door opened. Else put it back in its sheath and hid it in her sleeve.
“Go back.”
She coldly muttered to the maids who were about to serve her. The two maids who had been watching her moved away. Else stared at the steaming water. The bathtub was long and narrow. It looked like a small coffin where Hermi had been lying.
She curled up into the tub and took the knife out of her sleeve. The hot water soaked her body, making her whole body feel tingly. She took off the sheath and placed the knife on her wrist. The smooth, uneven iron felt cold and refreshing.
Nothing came to mind. Neither Sibyl, nor Hermi... Just death. She wanted to gain a world where she could sink comfortably.
The eyes, with their bloodshot veins, were eerie. The King shouted at the doctor who was licking his lips.
“You can take everything, just bring Else back alive!”
Else will end her life with her own hands. She will cut off her own fate with her own hands and throw it into the fire. The corners of her lips went up. She liked it better. It felt like a more tragic and worthy death. She pulled her sword out of its scabbard. Unlike the royal swords with their ornate handles, the sword that Sybil wore at his waist was simple and without any design. It was so rough that it felt unsuitable for a King to wear on his waist.
But somehow, it was a sword that seemed like it could actually kill someone. It wasn't just a sword in terms of design. It was a sword that seemed like it could safely lead her to death. The bedroom door opened. Else put it back in its sheath and hid it in her sleeve.
“Go back.”
She coldly muttered to the maids who were about to serve her. The two maids who had been watching her moved away. Else stared at the steaming water. The bathtub was long and narrow. It looked like a small coffin where Hermi had been lying.
She curled up into the tub and took the knife out of her sleeve. The hot water soaked her body, making her whole body feel tingly. She took off the sheath and placed the knife on her wrist. The smooth, uneven iron felt cold and refreshing.
Nothing came to mind. Neither Sibyl, nor Hermi... Just death. She wanted to gain a world where she could sink comfortably.
Else looked at her white wrist in the hot water. The morning sunlight began to clear away the dusk. Else cut deeply into her wrist where the veins were blue.
“Ahhhh!”
The maid's scream was what woke him up in the morning. One of the two young maids who had gone to the bedroom to help the concubine bathe collapsed in front of the bathtub and let out a dry scream. The bathtub was filled with blood as red as the dye made from crushed safflower. She trembled and felt around on the floor. Unable to get the concubine out, she burst into tears, and the servants rushed in.
They found the King, who was staying in a small annex to the palace, and the King ran over and took the concubine out of the bathtub.
“Else!”
The sagging body felt heavy like water-soaked paper. The pale face didn’t seem like that of a living person either. He looked down at the woman’s arm that was falling. His feet were shimmering as they stood on the floor. His mind was blank. He couldn’t think of anything. The reality of holding the unconscious Else felt like a dream. He pulled Else out of the bathtub and twisted his face. The once-white chemise was soaked in blood and a mess. With every step he took, water mixed with blood dripped down. His vision was dizzy. He wasn’t the one bleeding, but the reality of standing on her didn’t feel real. He barely maintained consciousness and carried Else to the bed.
The smell of blood filled the bedroom, but he couldn't smell anything. In fact, he couldn't believe that the smell that filled the bedroom was Else's. Else had lost this much blood... There was no way Else could have cut her wrists with her own hands.
He shivered. What if Else had died? What if Else had lost her life? His knees gave out as he thought the unthinkable became reality. He was just scared and couldn't come to his senses. It was a world away from when he thought Else had turned her back on him.
Else is dead. Else, Else... He opened her bloodless lips and blew air into them, as if he had pulled a dead person out of water. He put his hands together to press his heart, but at Count Loper’s dissuasion, he looked at him.
“Your Majesty, Your Majesty. Come to your senses.”
His face was hard. He looked at his subjects with the eyes of a madman.
“Else...”
“You need to check if the heart is beating.”
“That’s right. That’s right. That’s right. The heart...”
As the man said, Sibyl put hia ear to her heart. His whole body trembled like an aspen tree. Count Loper looked at him with pitiful eyes. Normally, he would have warned him of the impiety, but he could not see anything. It seemed as if only he and Else were left in the dark world.
“The time will come soon. Come to your senses.”
Count Loper raised Sibyl’s upper body, who had his ear pressed against her chest to hear her heartbeat, and stared at him with hardened eyes. Sibyl stared at him blankly, then fiercely slapped his hand away and touched Else’s face.
“Else, Else. No. No...”
Count Loper stared at the man with his face twisted like a child who had lost his mother, then turned to the clerk who was running towards him with hurried steps. He gave the clerk a seat and stepped back. He looked at the bathtub where Else had cut his wrists.
It was impossible to estimate how much bleeding there was. The water in the bathtub was already a deep rose color, as if it were filled only with red blood. When the maid found her, her heart was beating, but she was unconscious. Will she be able to wake up? His lips were bitten.
“She lost a lot of blood.”
The poet roughly untied the bandage and recited:
“So? When are you going to wake up? When are you going to wake up?”
"Your Majesty."
“Wake up right now. Open your eyes right now in front of me.”
“Your Majesty, her body is already weak, so to wake up, she needs to replenish the amount of blood she has shed...”
The King, who had been screaming like crazy, ran out and put his hand in the bathtub, and started stirring. He was out of his mind. He wondered what on earth he was doing with his hand in the bathtub, and he was drawing blood. It’s not like you can filter out blood mixed with water. Even if you filter it, you can’t put the spilled blood back into the blood vessels. Of course, he had heard that in the highly developed medical world of the religious sect, blood transfusions had been attempted several times and succeeded. Still, it wasn’t a universal treatment.
“Your Majesty, stop it.”
Sibyl, who had been scraping the bottom of the bathtub, raised his head. His mad eyes were suffocatingly sharp. Alexander, who had pursed his lips in embarrassment, clenched his fists. It was miserable. The King never lost his composure, even when the situation was urgent. He may have been twisted and dry, but he was not a man without reason. Even his close aide, Count Duanen, admitted it, but the King was an overly emotionless person. A King like that... As a subject, he could not bear to see his master go mad.
“...Didn’t you say she couldn’t wake up?”
The King glared coldly. The blood-splattered white shirt and cravat were hideous. Alexander stared at him. The door opened, and the assistant of the city doctor came running in with a potion. Alexander opened his mouth again to calm the king.
“If you leave the bedroom, the doctor will come back...”
The King's hand picked up the sword at his waist.
"Your Majesty."
Alexander called him in a low voice. The King seemed not to hear anything. The doctor, who was trembling to treat the concubine, looked back at them. The King was holding a knife to his wrist.
“Your Majesty, what...”
The pale-faced doctor stammered and opened his mouth.
“Take it.”
The sharp edge of the dagger cut the King's wrist. Blood began to flow from the line. The doctor was so shocked that he couldn't say anything. He didn't know what to do to calm him down. The King's wrath was something only he could control.
“Take it!”
The assistants of the doctor who had been clinging to the unconscious concubine slowly stepped back. A man who was clearly not in his right mind was walking towards him. His face was distorted with a ferocious expression, as if he would grab him by the collar and twist him at any moment. The doctor stood in front of him without moving away.
“Your Majesty, please calm down. The blood is...”
“Take it, I’ll give you more if you want.”
The King held out his wrist, from which blood was gushing, to the doctor. It was a wound twice as deep as the wound on the concubine’s wrist. It was natural. This was a knight who had received military training for over a dozen years. It was different from the wound that a woman who didn’t even know how to properly hold a sword had inflicted. If left as it was, the King’s life would be in greater danger.
“Your Majesty, please calm down.”
The blood soaking through his sleeves had pooled on the floor, creating a puddle. It was suspected that there was a significant amount of bleeding. It seemed as if even the King would lose consciousness.
“This is what Her Royal Highness said...”
***
“Ahhhh!”
The maid's scream was what woke him up in the morning. One of the two young maids who had gone to the bedroom to help the concubine bathe collapsed in front of the bathtub and let out a dry scream. The bathtub was filled with blood as red as the dye made from crushed safflower. She trembled and felt around on the floor. Unable to get the concubine out, she burst into tears, and the servants rushed in.
They found the King, who was staying in a small annex to the palace, and the King ran over and took the concubine out of the bathtub.
“Else!”
The sagging body felt heavy like water-soaked paper. The pale face didn’t seem like that of a living person either. He looked down at the woman’s arm that was falling. His feet were shimmering as they stood on the floor. His mind was blank. He couldn’t think of anything. The reality of holding the unconscious Else felt like a dream. He pulled Else out of the bathtub and twisted his face. The once-white chemise was soaked in blood and a mess. With every step he took, water mixed with blood dripped down. His vision was dizzy. He wasn’t the one bleeding, but the reality of standing on her didn’t feel real. He barely maintained consciousness and carried Else to the bed.
The smell of blood filled the bedroom, but he couldn't smell anything. In fact, he couldn't believe that the smell that filled the bedroom was Else's. Else had lost this much blood... There was no way Else could have cut her wrists with her own hands.
He shivered. What if Else had died? What if Else had lost her life? His knees gave out as he thought the unthinkable became reality. He was just scared and couldn't come to his senses. It was a world away from when he thought Else had turned her back on him.
Else is dead. Else, Else... He opened her bloodless lips and blew air into them, as if he had pulled a dead person out of water. He put his hands together to press his heart, but at Count Loper’s dissuasion, he looked at him.
“Your Majesty, Your Majesty. Come to your senses.”
His face was hard. He looked at his subjects with the eyes of a madman.
“Else...”
“You need to check if the heart is beating.”
“That’s right. That’s right. That’s right. The heart...”
As the man said, Sibyl put hia ear to her heart. His whole body trembled like an aspen tree. Count Loper looked at him with pitiful eyes. Normally, he would have warned him of the impiety, but he could not see anything. It seemed as if only he and Else were left in the dark world.
“The time will come soon. Come to your senses.”
Count Loper raised Sibyl’s upper body, who had his ear pressed against her chest to hear her heartbeat, and stared at him with hardened eyes. Sibyl stared at him blankly, then fiercely slapped his hand away and touched Else’s face.
“Else, Else. No. No...”
Count Loper stared at the man with his face twisted like a child who had lost his mother, then turned to the clerk who was running towards him with hurried steps. He gave the clerk a seat and stepped back. He looked at the bathtub where Else had cut his wrists.
It was impossible to estimate how much bleeding there was. The water in the bathtub was already a deep rose color, as if it were filled only with red blood. When the maid found her, her heart was beating, but she was unconscious. Will she be able to wake up? His lips were bitten.
“She lost a lot of blood.”
The poet roughly untied the bandage and recited:
“So? When are you going to wake up? When are you going to wake up?”
"Your Majesty."
“Wake up right now. Open your eyes right now in front of me.”
“Your Majesty, her body is already weak, so to wake up, she needs to replenish the amount of blood she has shed...”
The King, who had been screaming like crazy, ran out and put his hand in the bathtub, and started stirring. He was out of his mind. He wondered what on earth he was doing with his hand in the bathtub, and he was drawing blood. It’s not like you can filter out blood mixed with water. Even if you filter it, you can’t put the spilled blood back into the blood vessels. Of course, he had heard that in the highly developed medical world of the religious sect, blood transfusions had been attempted several times and succeeded. Still, it wasn’t a universal treatment.
“Your Majesty, stop it.”
Sibyl, who had been scraping the bottom of the bathtub, raised his head. His mad eyes were suffocatingly sharp. Alexander, who had pursed his lips in embarrassment, clenched his fists. It was miserable. The King never lost his composure, even when the situation was urgent. He may have been twisted and dry, but he was not a man without reason. Even his close aide, Count Duanen, admitted it, but the King was an overly emotionless person. A King like that... As a subject, he could not bear to see his master go mad.
“...Didn’t you say she couldn’t wake up?”
The King glared coldly. The blood-splattered white shirt and cravat were hideous. Alexander stared at him. The door opened, and the assistant of the city doctor came running in with a potion. Alexander opened his mouth again to calm the king.
“If you leave the bedroom, the doctor will come back...”
The King's hand picked up the sword at his waist.
"Your Majesty."
Alexander called him in a low voice. The King seemed not to hear anything. The doctor, who was trembling to treat the concubine, looked back at them. The King was holding a knife to his wrist.
“Your Majesty, what...”
The pale-faced doctor stammered and opened his mouth.
“Take it.”
The sharp edge of the dagger cut the King's wrist. Blood began to flow from the line. The doctor was so shocked that he couldn't say anything. He didn't know what to do to calm him down. The King's wrath was something only he could control.
“Take it!”
The assistants of the doctor who had been clinging to the unconscious concubine slowly stepped back. A man who was clearly not in his right mind was walking towards him. His face was distorted with a ferocious expression, as if he would grab him by the collar and twist him at any moment. The doctor stood in front of him without moving away.
“Your Majesty, please calm down. The blood is...”
“Take it, I’ll give you more if you want.”
The King held out his wrist, from which blood was gushing, to the doctor. It was a wound twice as deep as the wound on the concubine’s wrist. It was natural. This was a knight who had received military training for over a dozen years. It was different from the wound that a woman who didn’t even know how to properly hold a sword had inflicted. If left as it was, the King’s life would be in greater danger.
“Your Majesty, please calm down.”
The blood soaking through his sleeves had pooled on the floor, creating a puddle. It was suspected that there was a significant amount of bleeding. It seemed as if even the King would lose consciousness.
“This is what Her Royal Highness said...”
The eyes, with their bloodshot veins, were eerie. The King shouted at the doctor who was licking his lips.
“You can take everything, just bring Else back alive!”
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