Episode 93. Do You Love Me So Much?
It was something she had been waiting for for a long time.
Ever since she learned that the woman who had tormented young Bercheria wasn't her mother.
Bercheria had been waiting for the time to take revenge on her.
"In fact, now is better. It was truly miserable when I felt hated simply for existing."
It was something she had been waiting for for a long time.
Ever since she learned that the woman who had tormented young Bercheria wasn't her mother.
Bercheria had been waiting for the time to take revenge on her.
"In fact, now is better. It was truly miserable when I felt hated simply for existing."
"Hate? Even being loved so much isn't enough."
A smile spread across Bercheria's lips.
"Do you love me so much?"
"Of course."
Lacrahan bent down and drew near Bercheria's lips.
"Otherwise, I wouldn't have gone to see you this early in the morning."
"We felt the same way."
Bercheria stood on tiptoe, and their lips met.
Lacrahan's hand tangled in her blond hair, wrapping it tightly around her.
Their lips parted, deepening, and their soft flesh touched.
It felt as if the contact was melting.
When moments like this arrive, Bercheria realizes how long she's been waiting for this sensation.
Even as they kiss, the affectionate man makes her feel cared for and cherished.
He wraps one hand around her waist, guiding her light body against his thigh.
Even as his weight rests on her, his solid frame remains motionless.
For the long years he's lived as King of the North since the war, Lacrahan has been a symbol of abstinence.
He knows that his desire for Bercheria is exclusive to her.
"These days, whenever I come to, I think of you."
Their lips parted for a moment, and the whisper he made touched her wet lips, only to be swallowed with a breath.
"Me too."
Bercheria reached out and hugged his muscular waist.
The countless scars etched on Lacrahan's back flashed before her mind.
When she'd first seen them, she'd been heartbroken by the memories of the painful times he must have endured. Her heartache was all the more profound because she had no power to change the past.
But now, things were different.
The pain they had endured together in the past could now be compensated for.
To protect this love, Bercheria was ready to do anything.
“Bercheria.”
Lacrahan tickled her small, plump lips with his teeth.
The sensation, slightly more stimulating than the gentle touch, made Bercheria let out a suppressed breath without realizing it.
He was the one who was being stimulated by her varying reactions to even the slightest change.
Lacrahan embraced her body and buried his nose in her pale neck. Just as their contact was deepening,
“Why do you keep ignoring me?”
An unfamiliar voice rang out.
At the same time, their movements stiffened.
Lawrence blinked, narrowing her eyes, as she looked up at the large man standing before her.
“Didn’t you notice me staring at you at the party?”
Her head tilted, as if the man’s words were strange.
“Why were you looking at me?”
“...”
The man, large enough to obscure Lawrence’s body, was clearly, in her memory, an errand boy for the Emperor’s mistress, Lyone.
She flew trained eagles all over Periat, then recaptured them, acting as a news source.
One morning, unable to sleep, she went outside, and suddenly this man followed her, feigning familiarity.
“Were we acquainted?”
Lawrence asked blankly, and the man replied in a nonchalant tone.
“Were we sleeping together? Are you perhaps developing another way to provoke me?”
Lawrence blinked, staring at the man, then nodded with an exclamation as if remembering something.
“Ah. I see what you mean. Actually, I have trouble remembering things unless they’re really important.”
“...”
“So you’re saying you want to go to bed with me?”
The man stared down at the Empress of Periat with a face as indifferent as his ignorantly large torso.
“Then you should have just said so a long time ago.”
Lawrence calmly turned and left the garden.
The man watched her quietly before following her.
In the garden that had once again become quiet, Lacrahan and Bercheria faced each other.
“It seems like it’s time to use the Parallel Butterfly.”
The eyes of the two people who witnessed the unexpected scene widened simultaneously.
Perhaps even the Supreme Being couldn't have anticipated this.
Only fellow humans could witness and exploit the small events created by human will.
"Damn it."
Lyone threw the wig she was holding onto the bed.
"I've worked my whole life for this moment!"
She nervously began to undress her dress.
As she practically ripped the constricting corset off her body, a long scar traversing her stomach was revealed.
"Haa."
Lyone frowned and ran her fingertips over the scar.
"Aww."
The sound of the baby's cries, as the midwife from the slums had ripped open her stomach so rudely, was still vivid in her ears.
"Not one! Twins. Twins!"
She'd thought her stomach was unusually large, but she hadn't imagined there were two babies inside.
Lyone covered the midwife's mouth, afraid that the woman who had promised to buy her baby might hear.
"Shut up."
Before she could finish her brief words, the door opened and the woman who had been waiting outside walked in.
The woman, who had come to see Lyone, who was already bloated, had spoken out loud. She had announced that she was soon to become the empress of Periat. She also wanted a baby, so she offered to trade the child in her womb for enough money to live off of for the rest of her life.
"Twins?"
However, there was no stipulation that two children be born.
Lyone, trembling with fear that this woman claiming to be the future Empress might not buy the children, said,
A smile spread across Bercheria's lips.
"Do you love me so much?"
"Of course."
Lacrahan bent down and drew near Bercheria's lips.
"Otherwise, I wouldn't have gone to see you this early in the morning."
"We felt the same way."
Bercheria stood on tiptoe, and their lips met.
Lacrahan's hand tangled in her blond hair, wrapping it tightly around her.
Their lips parted, deepening, and their soft flesh touched.
It felt as if the contact was melting.
When moments like this arrive, Bercheria realizes how long she's been waiting for this sensation.
Even as they kiss, the affectionate man makes her feel cared for and cherished.
He wraps one hand around her waist, guiding her light body against his thigh.
Even as his weight rests on her, his solid frame remains motionless.
For the long years he's lived as King of the North since the war, Lacrahan has been a symbol of abstinence.
He knows that his desire for Bercheria is exclusive to her.
"These days, whenever I come to, I think of you."
Their lips parted for a moment, and the whisper he made touched her wet lips, only to be swallowed with a breath.
"Me too."
Bercheria reached out and hugged his muscular waist.
The countless scars etched on Lacrahan's back flashed before her mind.
When she'd first seen them, she'd been heartbroken by the memories of the painful times he must have endured. Her heartache was all the more profound because she had no power to change the past.
But now, things were different.
The pain they had endured together in the past could now be compensated for.
To protect this love, Bercheria was ready to do anything.
“Bercheria.”
Lacrahan tickled her small, plump lips with his teeth.
The sensation, slightly more stimulating than the gentle touch, made Bercheria let out a suppressed breath without realizing it.
He was the one who was being stimulated by her varying reactions to even the slightest change.
Lacrahan embraced her body and buried his nose in her pale neck. Just as their contact was deepening,
“Why do you keep ignoring me?”
An unfamiliar voice rang out.
At the same time, their movements stiffened.
***
Lawrence blinked, narrowing her eyes, as she looked up at the large man standing before her.
“Didn’t you notice me staring at you at the party?”
Her head tilted, as if the man’s words were strange.
“Why were you looking at me?”
“...”
The man, large enough to obscure Lawrence’s body, was clearly, in her memory, an errand boy for the Emperor’s mistress, Lyone.
She flew trained eagles all over Periat, then recaptured them, acting as a news source.
One morning, unable to sleep, she went outside, and suddenly this man followed her, feigning familiarity.
“Were we acquainted?”
Lawrence asked blankly, and the man replied in a nonchalant tone.
“Were we sleeping together? Are you perhaps developing another way to provoke me?”
Lawrence blinked, staring at the man, then nodded with an exclamation as if remembering something.
“Ah. I see what you mean. Actually, I have trouble remembering things unless they’re really important.”
“...”
“So you’re saying you want to go to bed with me?”
The man stared down at the Empress of Periat with a face as indifferent as his ignorantly large torso.
“Then you should have just said so a long time ago.”
Lawrence calmly turned and left the garden.
The man watched her quietly before following her.
In the garden that had once again become quiet, Lacrahan and Bercheria faced each other.
“It seems like it’s time to use the Parallel Butterfly.”
The eyes of the two people who witnessed the unexpected scene widened simultaneously.
Perhaps even the Supreme Being couldn't have anticipated this.
Only fellow humans could witness and exploit the small events created by human will.
***
"Damn it."
Lyone threw the wig she was holding onto the bed.
"I've worked my whole life for this moment!"
She nervously began to undress her dress.
As she practically ripped the constricting corset off her body, a long scar traversing her stomach was revealed.
"Haa."
Lyone frowned and ran her fingertips over the scar.
"Aww."
The sound of the baby's cries, as the midwife from the slums had ripped open her stomach so rudely, was still vivid in her ears.
"Not one! Twins. Twins!"
She'd thought her stomach was unusually large, but she hadn't imagined there were two babies inside.
Lyone covered the midwife's mouth, afraid that the woman who had promised to buy her baby might hear.
"Shut up."
Before she could finish her brief words, the door opened and the woman who had been waiting outside walked in.
The woman, who had come to see Lyone, who was already bloated, had spoken out loud. She had announced that she was soon to become the empress of Periat. She also wanted a baby, so she offered to trade the child in her womb for enough money to live off of for the rest of her life.
"Twins?"
However, there was no stipulation that two children be born.
Lyone, trembling with fear that this woman claiming to be the future Empress might not buy the children, said,
"I'll give you one child, so please take it with you."
"Ha."
Lyone, stroking her wounds, snapped out of her thoughts. She hadn't realized then that that moment would haunt her with anxiety for the rest of her life.
Lyone, stroking her wounds, snapped out of her thoughts. She hadn't realized then that that moment would haunt her with anxiety for the rest of her life.
Lyone let down her hair, which had been adorned with expensive jewels, and pulled out a flowing nightgown. Putting back on her brown wig, she pulled down the nightgown, revealing her chest, and looked at her reflection in the mirror. The golden eyes and blond hair that had caught Bercheria's attention had vanished, and Lyone's face had returned to her usual self.
She left her private room and walked to the Emperor's bedroom, where Gerard slept. Opening the massive door, a strong musk scent wafted into her nostrils.
"Your Majesty."
Drunk from the party and drowsy, Gerard's eyes drifted to Lyone. The moonlight illuminated her delicate silhouette as she walked by.
"It's late,"
Gerard muttered, his voice slurred.
"Still, my heart longed for Your Majesty the Emperor."
Lyone approached Gerard, pretending to brush his face, and placed the magical scent on his nose. Men behaved differently when entering and leaving the bathroom. Long ago, when she'd first met Gerard, simply getting to know a woman would have been enough to sway him, but that wasn't always possible.
People tended to tire of anything over time, and there were no unchanging desires. So Lyone did everything she could to captivate Gerard. People thought that Lyone was simply occupying the position of the Emperor's mistress, but they didn't care about what she did to keep that position.
"I missed you, Your Majesty."
Lyone stroked Gerard's back and climbed onto him on the bed. As Gerard groaned at the secret touch, she whispered her sweet voice again today.
"Hurry and let Princess Kelita marry Lacrahan. If you hesitate, Bercheria might take everything away from you."
"Oh. Yes. That's right."
Lyone's face grew cold as she slowly conquered Gerard.
***
The bed where Bercheria and Lacrahan lay together was melting with the intense heat. The body heat they had shared long ago remained the same even after centuries.
"I missed you."
She didn't have to think about how many emotions were packed into Lacrahan's words to feel them all. As if he already knew her thoughts, Lacrahan repeated to Bercheria in his arms,
" How long I've waited for you. How much I cherish this moment."
Time, flowing outside the door, stopped here.
"Ha."
Every time Lacrahan's lips brushed against Bercheria's, dormant senses awakened.
His hands, cradling her, now sensitive, somehow only made her yearn even more.
“Lacrahan.”
Bercheria’s hands wandered in the air, unsure of what to do.
Wherever his gaze landed, wherever his breath touched, unbearable emotions blossomed.
Lacrahan whispered to her, sometimes gently, sometimes roughly,
“I’ll reward you for your long wait.”
When he first said he had fallen in love with a human, the gods had scoffed. They asked what he could gain from loving a human with such a short lifespan.
Was it even worth making such a sacrifice for a fleeting relationship?
They knew nothing.
They would never experience the fulfillment he felt holding this woman.
Even if he could go back in time, Lacrahan’s choice would be the same. Even if he had to live another long life of suffering, even if he had to meet Bercheria with scars etched all over his body, he would walk this path again without hesitation.
Lacrahan felt pity for others who had never experienced such overwhelming love. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Bercheria was a precious gift bestowed upon him alone, and no one else.
His hands, cradling her, now sensitive, somehow only made her yearn even more.
“Lacrahan.”
Bercheria’s hands wandered in the air, unsure of what to do.
Wherever his gaze landed, wherever his breath touched, unbearable emotions blossomed.
Lacrahan whispered to her, sometimes gently, sometimes roughly,
“I’ll reward you for your long wait.”
When he first said he had fallen in love with a human, the gods had scoffed. They asked what he could gain from loving a human with such a short lifespan.
Was it even worth making such a sacrifice for a fleeting relationship?
They knew nothing.
They would never experience the fulfillment he felt holding this woman.
Even if he could go back in time, Lacrahan’s choice would be the same. Even if he had to live another long life of suffering, even if he had to meet Bercheria with scars etched all over his body, he would walk this path again without hesitation.
Lacrahan felt pity for others who had never experienced such overwhelming love. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Bercheria was a precious gift bestowed upon him alone, and no one else.
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