Episode 61. Beautiful
“Lacrahan. I knew you were strong, but I didn’t know you were this strong. You seem to be particularly receptive to the guardian’s aura.”
“Yes, I’m also curious. I read that our family has a particularly good physical compatibility with you. The North itself is like the Edkins.”
"Where is this place?"
Lacrahan led her to a small cabin carved into a large tree.
"My father was quite handy. He hid these places in the forest for my brother and me, who loved to hunt. He was so proud of us discovering new places and having fun."
The wood was very old, but it burst into flames as soon as the fireplace was lit.
Lacrahan brought Bercheria to the rocking chair in front of the fireplace. He draped a blanket he'd already brought over her damp body and knelt before it.
"So anything will be small. It's where my brother and I used to go when we were kids."
He smiled at Bercheria, who nodded, and looked down at her feet poking out from the blanket.
“Around fifteen. I thought you were about the same size as me back then, but I guess your legs are a little longer.”
At Lacrahan’s words, Bercheria’s lips formed the same smile.
He covered her protruding toes with his large hand and gazed at the crackling fireplace.
“That day, the day of our wedding. There was something I wanted to give you.”
“What?”
Lacrahan took something out of his pocket and held it out to her.
“What is this?”
The day he decided to marry Bercheria, Lacrahan had thought of his mother’s ring without hesitation.
For most women, a wedding is a happy day, a day of family congratulations and the warmth of friends as bridesmaids. A time to deepen affection for parents and reminisce about the days they’ve lived together.
But neither Bercheria nor Lacrahan had any family left to celebrate their wedding.
So, for Bercheria, his mother’s ring seemed to hold a small meaning.
Even though they couldn't hold a wedding, Lacrahan had kept it, unable to give it to Bercheria. He believed that if it found its rightful place, it would hold its own significance.
It was a ring with a large, polka-dotted diamond.
"Ah. It's a ring."
To Bercheria, rings were objects used to intensify the pain her mother would inflict on her when she beat her.
But perhaps not all rings were so hideous, for the one resting on her palm had this beautiful shape.
"It was my mother's. It was the only thing I took from her belongings when she passed away."
As Bercheria stared at the ring in silence, Lacrahan felt his mouth go dry with tension.
"A diamond,"
Lacrahan said, smoothing his cracked voice and continuing.
"The reason you give a woman a diamond when you marry is because this gemstone is unchanging. It's a gift to symbolize that the love you share with her will never change."
"It's beautiful."
Bercheria gazed at the ring for a moment, then raised her head and asked.
“Didn’t your mother change her mind while she was wearing this ring?”
Lacrahan smiled.
“At least as far as I know.”
A smile spread across Bercheria’s face as well.
When Lacrahan first decided to give this ring to Bercheria, he hadn’t given it any meaning beyond that of a ring his mother had worn.
But the moment Bercheria fell into the sea, his thoughts completely changed.
He was no longer going to be the fool who regretted not caring for her after losing something precious.
He now understood that the more he cared for her and expressed it more, the more the love within her would grow.
But this was only his own pace.
Lacrahan planned to watch slowly until she set her own pace and caught up.
“Would you be offended?”
She finally raised her head and met his gaze.
“Huh?”
“Because it’s a keepsake. I was afraid you might be offended. If that’s the case, it’s okay if you don’t take it.”
Lacrahan tried to pull his hand away, but Bercheria, startled, grabbed his hand.
"No, that's not it. I'm not offended at all."
She seemed a little surprised.
It made her wonder if she could wear such a pretty ring.
“They say that when a man gives a woman a ring when they get married, it becomes a symbol of love. My mother was happy the whole time she wore this ring. That’s why I wanted to give it to you.”
Lacrahan carefully took Bercheria’s hand and placed the ring on her finger.
“I want you to be happy the whole time you wear this.”
The ring seemed to fit Bercheria’s fourth finger.
Lacrahan studied her face, not the ring.
Throughout his life, he had never once felt intimidated by another person. He had never met anyone better at anything, and he had no reason not to be confident wherever he went.
Yet, strangely, he kept acting foolishly in front of Bercheria.
Picking fights that didn’t have to be, or being so perceptive.
They say that when someone falls in love, everyone becomes a fool.
Perhaps he was one of them.
“You’re pretty.”
“Yes, it's pretty.”
What man wouldn’t love?
If a clearly lovely woman were shyly wearing the ring he had given her, he couldn’t help but fall in love again.
The thought that he could have lost Bercheria because of Gerard made Lacrahan's blood run cold again.
He wanted to make Bercheria his official wife as soon as possible.
That way, other humans wouldn't target her or mistreat her.
Sometimes, when he looked at Bercheria like this, Lacrahan felt a sense of crisis.
He thought that if someone deliberately seduced this woman, the innocent Bercheria might fall for it.
"Do you know how many con artists there are in this world?"
"Yes?"
Lacrahan felt compelled to point this out.
"Never believe anyone else who says this. Never believe them. If they say you're pretty, or that they'll treat you well, and ask you to go with them."
Bercheria laughed out loud at Lacrahan's words. She seemed oblivious to how childish his words had been.
Seeing him speak so earnestly, so seriously...
"I'm not some baby,"
Bercheria replied, as if trying to comfort him.
"You're innocent."
But it didn't work on Lacrahan. He was frowning.
He had to get married quickly.
He had to make sure no one touched her.
Swish.
Suddenly, Lacrahan grabbed the handle of the chair she was sitting on and stood up.
As he bent down, the rocking chair creaked and tilted back.
“Lacrahan. I knew you were strong, but I didn’t know you were this strong. You seem to be particularly receptive to the guardian’s aura.”
“Yes, I’m also curious. I read that our family has a particularly good physical compatibility with you. The North itself is like the Edkins.”
The Edkins family, possessing the ice element, was particularly strong when under Bercheria’s protection. It was on a different level from the aura ordinary people received.
The element itself resonated with her, and the amount absorbed was significantly different.
Moreover, since Lacrahan was already strong, it was questionable how much stronger he could become under the protection.
“I’ll practice to see if I can focus my aura more on you later.”
“Yes. Later.”
“Yes.”
“When you’re completely well, then do that.”
“Yes.”
There was a good reason why the Emperor was particularly wary of Lacrahan alone.
Lacrahan was a man whose mere presence could threaten the Emperor.
He deliberately chose a beach where Laurent was out of sight.
As soon as his feet touched the sand, he lifted Bercheria's body and embraced her.
Normally, she would have insisted she could walk on her own, but instead, she obediently surrendered herself to him.
When she had lost her strength, she would have bristled and snapped at anyone who approached her.
Now, having regained everything she had lost and reached the realm of the gods, she had become quiet.
She probably didn't know how endearing such actions made her feel.
"Where are we going?"
"Not the castle."
The element itself resonated with her, and the amount absorbed was significantly different.
Moreover, since Lacrahan was already strong, it was questionable how much stronger he could become under the protection.
“I’ll practice to see if I can focus my aura more on you later.”
“Yes. Later.”
“Yes.”
“When you’re completely well, then do that.”
“Yes.”
There was a good reason why the Emperor was particularly wary of Lacrahan alone.
Lacrahan was a man whose mere presence could threaten the Emperor.
He deliberately chose a beach where Laurent was out of sight.
As soon as his feet touched the sand, he lifted Bercheria's body and embraced her.
Normally, she would have insisted she could walk on her own, but instead, she obediently surrendered herself to him.
When she had lost her strength, she would have bristled and snapped at anyone who approached her.
Now, having regained everything she had lost and reached the realm of the gods, she had become quiet.
She probably didn't know how endearing such actions made her feel.
"Where are we going?"
"Not the castle."
There was no need to confront Gerard just because her strength had returned.
Even the most foolish of men, the title of Emperor held weight.
Furthermore, with Periat now leading three continents, he could summon an enormous army and manpower if he wished.
"Is there anywhere we can stay outside the castle?"
Lacrahan looked down at Bercheria and answered.
"Yes. This is the north. There's no place I don't know."
Bercheria tightened her grip around his neck.
“Stop!”
The carriage came to a noisy halt in the middle of the road at the sound of a woman holding a fan.
Her hands trembled, frozen in mid-air.
“What is this? What the hell is this?”
Suddenly, she felt Bercheria’s protective aura radiating from her entire body.
“No.”
The woman began to scratch at her body with her fingernails.
It felt terrifying, like hundreds of spiders crawling on her skin.
“Don’t do this. Please don’t do this.”
Bercheria’s aura was so creepy. Even its lukewarm temperature could drive people crazy.
It was inevitable for the woman.
After all, she was a woman who was created in opposition to Bercheria in every way.
The weaker Bercheria’s aura, the stronger she became, and the more Bercheria suffered and despaired, the clearer and sharper her mind became.
“Eeeeeeeee!”
The dry bread she fed her made her dizzy, and the daily whipping she gave her was all for herself.
The fan slipped from her hand, which clawed at her dress in a fit of rage, and rolled on the carriage floor.
Her nails, which had been tearing at the lace-covered dress, reached her face, scratching her cheek.
“This isn’t right. This can’t be happening.”
The woman gasped, burying her face between her knees.
“I was chosen by God. I am the goddess who protects Periat. I am not a fake like Bercheria.”
After catching her breath for a long time, she raised her head with frustrating slowness.
Blood had seeped from the wound on her cheek, tangled the hem of her skirt.
“Let’s go,”
She said, and the coachman tilted his head back and asked,
“Where should we go?”
“To that child. To the forest.”
“Yes.”
The carriage rattled forward.
“Yes, you’re going to give it a try. You want to act like you’re the prey.”
The woman looked out the window, tapping her fingernails.
"If you release your Guardian Spirit, I'll make those madmen run wild. Do you understand?"
Even the most foolish of men, the title of Emperor held weight.
Furthermore, with Periat now leading three continents, he could summon an enormous army and manpower if he wished.
"Is there anywhere we can stay outside the castle?"
Lacrahan looked down at Bercheria and answered.
"Yes. This is the north. There's no place I don't know."
Bercheria tightened her grip around his neck.
***
“Stop!”
The carriage came to a noisy halt in the middle of the road at the sound of a woman holding a fan.
Her hands trembled, frozen in mid-air.
“What is this? What the hell is this?”
Suddenly, she felt Bercheria’s protective aura radiating from her entire body.
“No.”
The woman began to scratch at her body with her fingernails.
It felt terrifying, like hundreds of spiders crawling on her skin.
“Don’t do this. Please don’t do this.”
Bercheria’s aura was so creepy. Even its lukewarm temperature could drive people crazy.
It was inevitable for the woman.
After all, she was a woman who was created in opposition to Bercheria in every way.
The weaker Bercheria’s aura, the stronger she became, and the more Bercheria suffered and despaired, the clearer and sharper her mind became.
“Eeeeeeeee!”
The dry bread she fed her made her dizzy, and the daily whipping she gave her was all for herself.
The fan slipped from her hand, which clawed at her dress in a fit of rage, and rolled on the carriage floor.
Her nails, which had been tearing at the lace-covered dress, reached her face, scratching her cheek.
“This isn’t right. This can’t be happening.”
The woman gasped, burying her face between her knees.
“I was chosen by God. I am the goddess who protects Periat. I am not a fake like Bercheria.”
After catching her breath for a long time, she raised her head with frustrating slowness.
Blood had seeped from the wound on her cheek, tangled the hem of her skirt.
“Let’s go,”
She said, and the coachman tilted his head back and asked,
“Where should we go?”
“To that child. To the forest.”
“Yes.”
The carriage rattled forward.
“Yes, you’re going to give it a try. You want to act like you’re the prey.”
The woman looked out the window, tapping her fingernails.
"If you release your Guardian Spirit, I'll make those madmen run wild. Do you understand?"
Her nervous voice mingled with the clatter of the carriage wheels.
When Lacrahan was young, people used to liken the northern weather to a woman's fickle heart.
One minute it would snow, the next it would rain, and then there would be months of drought.
This had been the case since Bercheria's guardian disappeared.
When Lacrahan was young, people used to liken the northern weather to a woman's fickle heart.
One minute it would snow, the next it would rain, and then there would be months of drought.
This had been the case since Bercheria's guardian disappeared.
***
"Where is this place?"
Lacrahan led her to a small cabin carved into a large tree.
"My father was quite handy. He hid these places in the forest for my brother and me, who loved to hunt. He was so proud of us discovering new places and having fun."
The wood was very old, but it burst into flames as soon as the fireplace was lit.
Lacrahan brought Bercheria to the rocking chair in front of the fireplace. He draped a blanket he'd already brought over her damp body and knelt before it.
"So anything will be small. It's where my brother and I used to go when we were kids."
He smiled at Bercheria, who nodded, and looked down at her feet poking out from the blanket.
“Around fifteen. I thought you were about the same size as me back then, but I guess your legs are a little longer.”
At Lacrahan’s words, Bercheria’s lips formed the same smile.
He covered her protruding toes with his large hand and gazed at the crackling fireplace.
“That day, the day of our wedding. There was something I wanted to give you.”
“What?”
Lacrahan took something out of his pocket and held it out to her.
“What is this?”
The day he decided to marry Bercheria, Lacrahan had thought of his mother’s ring without hesitation.
For most women, a wedding is a happy day, a day of family congratulations and the warmth of friends as bridesmaids. A time to deepen affection for parents and reminisce about the days they’ve lived together.
But neither Bercheria nor Lacrahan had any family left to celebrate their wedding.
So, for Bercheria, his mother’s ring seemed to hold a small meaning.
Even though they couldn't hold a wedding, Lacrahan had kept it, unable to give it to Bercheria. He believed that if it found its rightful place, it would hold its own significance.
It was a ring with a large, polka-dotted diamond.
"Ah. It's a ring."
To Bercheria, rings were objects used to intensify the pain her mother would inflict on her when she beat her.
But perhaps not all rings were so hideous, for the one resting on her palm had this beautiful shape.
"It was my mother's. It was the only thing I took from her belongings when she passed away."
As Bercheria stared at the ring in silence, Lacrahan felt his mouth go dry with tension.
"A diamond,"
Lacrahan said, smoothing his cracked voice and continuing.
"The reason you give a woman a diamond when you marry is because this gemstone is unchanging. It's a gift to symbolize that the love you share with her will never change."
"It's beautiful."
Bercheria gazed at the ring for a moment, then raised her head and asked.
“Didn’t your mother change her mind while she was wearing this ring?”
Lacrahan smiled.
“At least as far as I know.”
A smile spread across Bercheria’s face as well.
When Lacrahan first decided to give this ring to Bercheria, he hadn’t given it any meaning beyond that of a ring his mother had worn.
But the moment Bercheria fell into the sea, his thoughts completely changed.
He was no longer going to be the fool who regretted not caring for her after losing something precious.
He now understood that the more he cared for her and expressed it more, the more the love within her would grow.
But this was only his own pace.
Lacrahan planned to watch slowly until she set her own pace and caught up.
“Would you be offended?”
She finally raised her head and met his gaze.
“Huh?”
“Because it’s a keepsake. I was afraid you might be offended. If that’s the case, it’s okay if you don’t take it.”
Lacrahan tried to pull his hand away, but Bercheria, startled, grabbed his hand.
"No, that's not it. I'm not offended at all."
She seemed a little surprised.
It made her wonder if she could wear such a pretty ring.
“They say that when a man gives a woman a ring when they get married, it becomes a symbol of love. My mother was happy the whole time she wore this ring. That’s why I wanted to give it to you.”
Lacrahan carefully took Bercheria’s hand and placed the ring on her finger.
“I want you to be happy the whole time you wear this.”
The ring seemed to fit Bercheria’s fourth finger.
Lacrahan studied her face, not the ring.
Throughout his life, he had never once felt intimidated by another person. He had never met anyone better at anything, and he had no reason not to be confident wherever he went.
Yet, strangely, he kept acting foolishly in front of Bercheria.
Picking fights that didn’t have to be, or being so perceptive.
They say that when someone falls in love, everyone becomes a fool.
Perhaps he was one of them.
“You’re pretty.”
“Yes, it's pretty.”
What man wouldn’t love?
If a clearly lovely woman were shyly wearing the ring he had given her, he couldn’t help but fall in love again.
The thought that he could have lost Bercheria because of Gerard made Lacrahan's blood run cold again.
He wanted to make Bercheria his official wife as soon as possible.
That way, other humans wouldn't target her or mistreat her.
Sometimes, when he looked at Bercheria like this, Lacrahan felt a sense of crisis.
He thought that if someone deliberately seduced this woman, the innocent Bercheria might fall for it.
"Do you know how many con artists there are in this world?"
"Yes?"
Lacrahan felt compelled to point this out.
"Never believe anyone else who says this. Never believe them. If they say you're pretty, or that they'll treat you well, and ask you to go with them."
Bercheria laughed out loud at Lacrahan's words. She seemed oblivious to how childish his words had been.
Seeing him speak so earnestly, so seriously...
"I'm not some baby,"
Bercheria replied, as if trying to comfort him.
"You're innocent."
But it didn't work on Lacrahan. He was frowning.
He had to get married quickly.
He had to make sure no one touched her.
Swish.
Suddenly, Lacrahan grabbed the handle of the chair she was sitting on and stood up.
As he bent down, the rocking chair creaked and tilted back.
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