Episode 65. I Don't Know
"I want to be alone with you."
"But you're sick."
"I don't know. Is it because I'm sick? I think I'll get better if I just stay like this."
Bercheria couldn't move because Lacrahan kept burying himself in her.
His head was clearly boiling with fever, but he kept saying he was fine, so he felt unsure of what to do.
"Do you really think you'll get better if I just stay like this?"
"Yeah."
"Yes. Got it."
Bercheria comforted Lacrahan, who was clinging to her, and held him in her arms.
She gently lowered her hand to check his forehead temperature, but it didn't seem to get any worse.
'When you fall asleep, I'll look for something to eat. Something that might help.'
"There's probably something to eat here and there if we look."
"Yes."
"For now, just sleep like this for a bit."
"Yes."
Lacrahan closed his eyes as he felt a hand stroking his hair.
Keung-
The sound of the stray dogs echoed again, and Groovy shook his head.
“There’s nothing I can do about it now.”
He then pulled a rolled-up towel from deep within his chest.
It was the item that Lyone had given him this morning.
She had said that inside were clothes that smelled like Bercheria.
“Phew.”
He carefully unfolded them, and a shabby garment popped out.
“Ah.”
Groovy’s eyes fluttered.
Why on earth was Bercheria wearing something like this?
Suddenly, his face heated up, so he covered it with the towel.
Groovy lowered his head and took a moment to catch his breath. He asked himself again.
Do you want to go back to the dungeon?
No.
Absolutely not.
He won’t go back even if it means dying.
Groovy raised his head, his face suddenly calm.
He chewed his lips and unfolded the towel.
His face was solemn as he muttered a spell.
Groovy groaned.
Soon, the ferocious stray dogs began to gather around him, one by one.
Empress Laurence of Periat stepped out onto the terrace at night and gazed at the sight before her.
After the war, the Imperial Palace of Periat had been busy repairing damaged buildings for a while.
Thanks to this effort, most of the buildings had been restored to their former state, but some still lay bare and neglected.
This included the Empress's chambers, which Laurence used, and the bridge directly below the terrace.
Ten years later, this was the only area still under construction.
Whether intentional or incompetent, it was unclear, but this area was always under construction, and few people passed by.
The bridge was secured with iron bars on both sides, blocking access. A massive eagle squawked and circled in the sky.
The cries of eagles poured down from above, and Laurence couldn't help but frown.
"Tsk."
Just moments ago, the bridge connecting east and west had been empty, but now a large man stood there, motionless. Laurence leaned against the terrace, watching as the eagle landed on the man's arm.
The man removed the paper wrapped around the eagle's leg, stuffed it into his pocket, and strode swiftly across the bridge.
Then, suddenly, he stopped and looked up at the terrace where the Empress was.
"..."
The Empress, too, stared intently at the man, their eyes locked.
The two gazed at each other for a long moment.
Suddenly, the Empress stormed into the room.
Then the man began to move again.
And a moment later.
Knock.
A knock sounded on the door, and the Empress cautiously walked to it.
Another knock, knock, knock. The Empress hesitated before opening the door.
Then, the man who had just received the eagle burst in and closed the door.
As soon as Lacrahan fell asleep, Bercheria searched the narrow cabin.
It occurred to her that if he skipped meals, his fever might worsen.
Having lived alone in the tower all his life, Bercheria wasn't accustomed to caring for others, but it seemed that even such things naturally came to mind when she felt love for someone.
Concerned for Lacrahan, Bercheria meticulously examined the cabin.
After a sweaty lap, she found things like jerky and canned goods.
Fortunately, they were all edible and had a shelf life.
"Lacrahan. Are you alright?"
Bercheria walked over to Lacrahan and checked the temperature of the wet towel.
"Your fever hasn't gone down yet."
Bercheria placed a freshly soaked towel on Lacrahan's forehead and sighed deeply.
Just by looking at Lacrahan's expression, she could tell just how much pain he was in. Even as time passed, his fever showed no signs of abating; in fact, it seemed to be getting worse.
"This is going to be a disaster."
Bercheria tried to straighten her knees and get up, but Lacrahan, who she had assumed was asleep, stretched out his arm and pulled her towards him.
She could feel the simmering heat behind her back, where he was holding her.
"Bercheria."
"Lacrahan, this can't be done. I really feel like something's going to happen if this continues."
"No. It'll be okay."
Even as he spoke, Lacrahan pulled Bercheria closer to him.
His kisses, pouring down the deep, sunken collarbone, were absurdly hot.
"Lacrahan. Please."
Lacrahan laughed, his hot breath escaping her lips.
"Don't beg. It'll make it harder for me."
"What do you mean?"
"It's because I have to do this to stay conscious."
“Huh?”
“It’s hard to explain, but someone else keeps talking to me in my head right now.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
Lacrahan was bewildered by this unprecedented experience.
It was most accurate to say that it felt like someone else’s spirit had entered his, but that didn’t mean it was running wild and uncontrollably.
“Someone I don’t even know keeps talking to me inside me.”
“I think the fever is messing with your memory.”
“No. I just need to come to my senses. If I hold you like this, I’ll come to my senses.”
"I want to be alone with you."
"But you're sick."
"I don't know. Is it because I'm sick? I think I'll get better if I just stay like this."
Bercheria couldn't move because Lacrahan kept burying himself in her.
His head was clearly boiling with fever, but he kept saying he was fine, so he felt unsure of what to do.
"Do you really think you'll get better if I just stay like this?"
"Yeah."
"Yes. Got it."
Bercheria comforted Lacrahan, who was clinging to her, and held him in her arms.
She gently lowered her hand to check his forehead temperature, but it didn't seem to get any worse.
'When you fall asleep, I'll look for something to eat. Something that might help.'
"There's probably something to eat here and there if we look."
"Yes."
"For now, just sleep like this for a bit."
"Yes."
Lacrahan closed his eyes as he felt a hand stroking his hair.
***
Keung-
The sound of the stray dogs echoed again, and Groovy shook his head.
“There’s nothing I can do about it now.”
He then pulled a rolled-up towel from deep within his chest.
It was the item that Lyone had given him this morning.
She had said that inside were clothes that smelled like Bercheria.
“Phew.”
He carefully unfolded them, and a shabby garment popped out.
“Ah.”
Groovy’s eyes fluttered.
Why on earth was Bercheria wearing something like this?
Suddenly, his face heated up, so he covered it with the towel.
Groovy lowered his head and took a moment to catch his breath. He asked himself again.
Do you want to go back to the dungeon?
No.
Absolutely not.
He won’t go back even if it means dying.
Groovy raised his head, his face suddenly calm.
He chewed his lips and unfolded the towel.
His face was solemn as he muttered a spell.
Groovy groaned.
Soon, the ferocious stray dogs began to gather around him, one by one.
***
Empress Laurence of Periat stepped out onto the terrace at night and gazed at the sight before her.
After the war, the Imperial Palace of Periat had been busy repairing damaged buildings for a while.
Thanks to this effort, most of the buildings had been restored to their former state, but some still lay bare and neglected.
This included the Empress's chambers, which Laurence used, and the bridge directly below the terrace.
Ten years later, this was the only area still under construction.
Whether intentional or incompetent, it was unclear, but this area was always under construction, and few people passed by.
The bridge was secured with iron bars on both sides, blocking access. A massive eagle squawked and circled in the sky.
"Whew."
Laurence let out a long sigh. Standing outside at night like this, staring blankly at the scenery from her chambers, always brought a sense of emptiness.
Today, with the Emperor and his government departing for the north, the castle seemed especially empty. While everyone else was living their lives for themselves, hadn't she been sacrificing too much time? Was it really right to live like this, without ever having a single lover?
Before, she was happy just being Empress, but now she wondered what it would have been like not to be Empress. Or what if she had been Empress of another country, not Periat? Would she have been happy?
Periat wasn't a country with a long history, but even so, its laws and customs were somewhat archaic. For example, while the Emperor could have a mistress, the Empress was not allowed to have anyone other than the Emperor. The fact that the Empress's expenses were less than a tenth of the Emperor's, a paltry sum, was discrimination if anything.
The problem was that his mistress, Lyone, lived a life even more extravagant than her, the Empress, perhaps even as extravagant as the Emperor. Perhaps it was natural that the imperial servants would try to please Lyone more than Laurence, the Empress.
Despite knowing all this, Laurence always endured. She endured the fact that Emperor Gerard never came to spend the night in her room, except on the day they were married.
As Empress, she didn't even have the chance to bear children.
Even as she grew older, resenting that fact, she endured it.
As Empress of the Periat Empire, she strove to maintain her dignity and dignity, and personally, she tried to treat even mere governments with dignity.
Someday, everyone will know.
Just how broadly the Empress held this position, how she lived.
As Empress, she didn't even have the chance to bear children.
Even as she grew older, resenting that fact, she endured it.
As Empress of the Periat Empire, she strove to maintain her dignity and dignity, and personally, she tried to treat even mere governments with dignity.
Someday, everyone will know.
Just how broadly the Empress held this position, how she lived.
"Keuk! "
The cries of eagles poured down from above, and Laurence couldn't help but frown.
"Tsk."
Just moments ago, the bridge connecting east and west had been empty, but now a large man stood there, motionless. Laurence leaned against the terrace, watching as the eagle landed on the man's arm.
The man removed the paper wrapped around the eagle's leg, stuffed it into his pocket, and strode swiftly across the bridge.
Then, suddenly, he stopped and looked up at the terrace where the Empress was.
"..."
The Empress, too, stared intently at the man, their eyes locked.
The two gazed at each other for a long moment.
Suddenly, the Empress stormed into the room.
Then the man began to move again.
And a moment later.
Knock.
A knock sounded on the door, and the Empress cautiously walked to it.
Another knock, knock, knock. The Empress hesitated before opening the door.
Then, the man who had just received the eagle burst in and closed the door.
***
As soon as Lacrahan fell asleep, Bercheria searched the narrow cabin.
It occurred to her that if he skipped meals, his fever might worsen.
Having lived alone in the tower all his life, Bercheria wasn't accustomed to caring for others, but it seemed that even such things naturally came to mind when she felt love for someone.
Concerned for Lacrahan, Bercheria meticulously examined the cabin.
After a sweaty lap, she found things like jerky and canned goods.
Fortunately, they were all edible and had a shelf life.
"Lacrahan. Are you alright?"
Bercheria walked over to Lacrahan and checked the temperature of the wet towel.
"Your fever hasn't gone down yet."
Bercheria placed a freshly soaked towel on Lacrahan's forehead and sighed deeply.
Just by looking at Lacrahan's expression, she could tell just how much pain he was in. Even as time passed, his fever showed no signs of abating; in fact, it seemed to be getting worse.
"This is going to be a disaster."
Bercheria tried to straighten her knees and get up, but Lacrahan, who she had assumed was asleep, stretched out his arm and pulled her towards him.
She could feel the simmering heat behind her back, where he was holding her.
"Bercheria."
"Lacrahan, this can't be done. I really feel like something's going to happen if this continues."
"No. It'll be okay."
Even as he spoke, Lacrahan pulled Bercheria closer to him.
His kisses, pouring down the deep, sunken collarbone, were absurdly hot.
"Lacrahan. Please."
Lacrahan laughed, his hot breath escaping her lips.
"Don't beg. It'll make it harder for me."
"What do you mean?"
"It's because I have to do this to stay conscious."
“Huh?”
“It’s hard to explain, but someone else keeps talking to me in my head right now.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
Lacrahan was bewildered by this unprecedented experience.
It was most accurate to say that it felt like someone else’s spirit had entered his, but that didn’t mean it was running wild and uncontrollably.
“Someone I don’t even know keeps talking to me inside me.”
“I think the fever is messing with your memory.”
“No. I just need to come to my senses. If I hold you like this, I’ll come to my senses.”
Lacrahan could ignore other sounds as long as he touched Bercheria.
The sensation was so intense that he could pretend not to hear anything else, just ignore it.
“Lavrahan, I’ll make some food. I think I can make some soup.”
“Later. Not now.”
Bercheria finally gave up on persuading Lakrahan and relaxed.
The two lay in front of the crackling fireplace.
Although the cabin was small, it was the warmest and only place where two people could lie down, making it the best place.
After spending some time like that, Bercheria asked him,
“Didn’t we have somewhere to go?”
“Where?”
“You said a border village?”
“Oh, yeah. That’s right.”
Lacrahan had said there was someone there who knew how to extract the new water.
“Who’s there?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Lacrahan stroked Bercheria’s ear and pressed his lips against her collarbone.
Bercheria held her breath as the sudden dizziness overcame her. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them and asked again,
“Why don’t you know? Are you just going without knowing?”
“No.”
Lacrahan grabbed Bercheria’s waist and pulled her toward him.
He buried his head in her armpit and playfully rubbed his cheek, causing Bercheria to burst into laughter.
“You’re still laughing like you used to, Bercheria.”
The smile slowly faded from Bercheria’s lips at his sudden words.
She pulled away from Lacrahan’s embrace and looked at him with startled eyes.
Lacrahan was staring at her with a changed gaze.
“Let’s name the child Murk. He will be a very special child, the first human to inherit the blood of a god.”
“Who are you?”
Bercheria straightened her upper body and looked down at Lacrahan.
His sharply chiseled face tilted toward her at Bercheria’s question.
“He will be born with the element of ice. He may appear cold on the outside, but his heart will be warmer than anyone else’s.”
Bercheria’s gaze grew cold again.
“Who are you to harass Lacrahan? Get out of there right now.”
Lacrahan’s gaze settled into a calming expression.
“I thought you would just keep the mood, but you’re quite cold.”
He sat up abruptly, stretched his legs, and looked at Bercheria.
“I didn’t make that up. My first child, Murk, may not be a true god, but he was too precious to be called a normal human.”
Lacrahan looked at Bercheria with affectionate eyes, but it was clear that it was someone else.
Although she couldn't pinpoint it, Bercheria, who had seen Lacrahan up close, could sense it.
"Are you the first god who created the Lacrahan family?"
The sensation was so intense that he could pretend not to hear anything else, just ignore it.
“Lavrahan, I’ll make some food. I think I can make some soup.”
“Later. Not now.”
Bercheria finally gave up on persuading Lakrahan and relaxed.
The two lay in front of the crackling fireplace.
Although the cabin was small, it was the warmest and only place where two people could lie down, making it the best place.
After spending some time like that, Bercheria asked him,
“Didn’t we have somewhere to go?”
“Where?”
“You said a border village?”
“Oh, yeah. That’s right.”
Lacrahan had said there was someone there who knew how to extract the new water.
“Who’s there?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Lacrahan stroked Bercheria’s ear and pressed his lips against her collarbone.
Bercheria held her breath as the sudden dizziness overcame her. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them and asked again,
“Why don’t you know? Are you just going without knowing?”
“No.”
Lacrahan grabbed Bercheria’s waist and pulled her toward him.
He buried his head in her armpit and playfully rubbed his cheek, causing Bercheria to burst into laughter.
“You’re still laughing like you used to, Bercheria.”
The smile slowly faded from Bercheria’s lips at his sudden words.
She pulled away from Lacrahan’s embrace and looked at him with startled eyes.
Lacrahan was staring at her with a changed gaze.
“Let’s name the child Murk. He will be a very special child, the first human to inherit the blood of a god.”
“Who are you?”
Bercheria straightened her upper body and looked down at Lacrahan.
His sharply chiseled face tilted toward her at Bercheria’s question.
“He will be born with the element of ice. He may appear cold on the outside, but his heart will be warmer than anyone else’s.”
Bercheria’s gaze grew cold again.
“Who are you to harass Lacrahan? Get out of there right now.”
Lacrahan’s gaze settled into a calming expression.
“I thought you would just keep the mood, but you’re quite cold.”
He sat up abruptly, stretched his legs, and looked at Bercheria.
“I didn’t make that up. My first child, Murk, may not be a true god, but he was too precious to be called a normal human.”
Lacrahan looked at Bercheria with affectionate eyes, but it was clear that it was someone else.
Although she couldn't pinpoint it, Bercheria, who had seen Lacrahan up close, could sense it.
"Are you the first god who created the Lacrahan family?"
Comments
Post a Comment