Sunlight streamed through the ivory curtains, stinging my eyelids. My mind was so blank I forgot where I was. Only after hearing the occasional rattling sound did I remember I was in a special compartment on the train. And last night wasn't a dream.
'You can't run away. I told you I wouldn't let you go.'
The decadent gaze of the man who had been looking down on me as if he were dominating me came to mind. My back ached, and my face flushed.
It was the night we pledged to spend the long, long life together, and it was the moment when we became the closest people in the world. The moon, which followed us ceaselessly through the darkness outside the train window, and the breath that tickled my ear with its rich touch. The eyes, like the ocean on a cloudy day, that I met closest to me. I lost touch with reality, and dizziness and lightheadedness set in.
Noah seemed ready to barge in again, but as if he were considerate of my novice self, he downed two bottles of wine in quick succession, lay down, and with his eyes glowing red, warned me, "I'm only letting you off today." I don't know what I did wrong, though.
I fell into a deep, almost faint sleep in his arms, as he held me tightly, filled with regret. My eyes were swollen, and I knew I must be quite unsightly. My whole body ached and was numb, as if I had a cold. My thighs were particularly sore. I must have been uncharacteristically tense.
“Ugh, water...”
Burning with thirst, I reached out and grabbed a glass of water from the dresser next to my bed, quenching my thirst. Barely regaining my senses, I squinted my eyes and looked around.
The bed next to me is empty. I'm the only one lying on the wide bed. I clutch my head, feeling dizzy as if I had a hangover, and try to come to my senses. I wonder if it's a dream, but this heavy exhaustion, this lingering feeling clinging to my body, this strange sensation, it can't be a dream.
“Noah?”
I called out his name in a muffled voice, but there was no answer at all.
My pajamas, which had been tossed aside the night before, were neatly folded on the nightstand, and my slippers were neatly placed. I had been lying still, my eyes rolling, when I slowly sat up, picking up the slip and gown neatly placed beside the bed.
'If you don't relax, you'll have a hard time tomorrow.'
Noah's advice came to mind. I know it in my head, but my body doesn't. As a result, my legs are shaking. I took a shower, pulled back the curtains, and looked outside at a view that felt quite different from yesterday. Is this the world as seen through the eyes of a married woman?
Even the weight of my clothes felt like a thousand pounds, and I was sprawled out on the sofa, wearing a light muslin dress, when Noah returned. He was wearing a white cotton button-down collared shirt without a tie and black slacks, carrying a tray of food.
“Are you awake?”
The sunlight streaming through the train window illuminated her. Dazzling! How could he be so healthy, fluffy, and beautiful? Only I felt withered and worn out.
“I brought lunch myself. There was pudding, so I took three.”
It was lunch, not breakfast. Noah, considerate of me for oversleeping, stared at me, as if asking for my praise, and blushed.
"Good job."
“Please give me a prize.”
I don't know what he wants, but right now is a problem. I ignored his sweet, fixated gaze, and he smiled blandly. I tried to eat, but my hands shook so much that I dropped my fork several times. If my body, not particularly physically strong, could become so weak, I wondered if that one act had drained all my vitality. Noah, sitting next to me and slicing plain toast, asked.
“Why is that?”
That brazen, unconcerned face, claiming he knew nothing, was pitiful. I sighed deeply.
“It’s hard.”
“I did everything, so why are you tired?”
“That’s right.”
He chuckled like a wicked demon. He must be a demon of lust, someone who bewitches people with his handsome appearance. I was so captivated by him that I married him. After barely finishing my meal, my weakened body finally heard the announcement that we had arrived at our destination. However, I was stuck on the sofa, unable to move.
"Ugh..."
“Should I carry you?”
He did his best to help me up by grabbing my trembling hand. I quickly shook my head.
“No, but it’s our honeymoon, so I’ll do my best.”
It was like the day after I'd decided to start exercising for the New Year. Every part of me felt sore, as if I'd been thoroughly beaten. I felt like I'd fall apart if I wore heels, so I put on low-top shoes, clinging to Noah's arm as I hesitantly got off the train and made my way through the station.
Ariot, the capital of Hellas, boasts a long history, boasting a charming mix of temples dating back to the 11th century, ancient architecture, and modern buildings. I'd been tempted to ride one of the city's double-decker carriages, but I preferred comfort and took a taxi. As we headed to our hotel, a vibrant cobalt blue horizon stretched out before us.
Upon arriving at the large, luxurious hotel, a manager who spoke the language greeted me and guided me. I was led to a private villa with a terrace, hot spring, and garden. I collapsed onto the bed and blanket in a room decorated with luxurious, exotic decorations and furniture.
Beyond the white-painted terrace, the deep blue sea I'd seen from the taxi stretched endlessly. A cool sea breeze gently swayed the chiffon curtains. The dense white buildings lined up below, against the cool blue of the sea, looked clean and refreshing.
“If you’re tired, take a rest.”
"Yes."
Noah looked down at me with pity as I collapsed into my comfortable clothes, motionless. He took out a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, examined it, then poured a glass and asked, "What's your favorite?"
“Would you like a drink?”
The sound of the alcohol dripping down felt like a signal, so I covered myself with the blanket up to my head as if I was running away.
“No. It’s still broad daylight.”
“My Princess is quick-witted.”
I heard laughter from beyond the blanket. He was no longer acting so casually. I glared at him, eyes bulging.
“I need a break.”
"Yes."
Noah sat on the edge of the bed, looking out toward the terrace. The glass in his hand emptied and refilled several times, and before I knew it, the wine bottle was empty. I thought he must be quite a drinker. Yesterday, he downed two bottles by himself, but he didn't get drunk at all. That's why I was safe. He shook the empty bottle of wine wistfully, then turned to me and asked a question.
“Are you done resting?”
A red hue appeared under his eyes, perhaps from the alcohol or something else. I leaned against the headboard, peeling a hard-skinned orange, and then hesitated, biting my upper lip.
“No, this doesn’t come off well...”
Noah took the orange from my hand and quickly peeled it with a knife. He stared at me silently. His gaze was subtly demanding, suggesting that after I finished eating, he had something to do with me. I let my hand, holding the orange, drop, showing a tired expression. Noah, perhaps taking it in a different light or perhaps playing along, quickly brought his face closer.
“You don’t like it? You said you liked it yesterday.”
"That is..."
“Well, you definitely said it was good.”
“I don’t like it, so please don’t repeat it.”
Why did I do that yesterday? I must have been possessed by something. I gave up and slid down from the headboard, lying on the sheets. Noah's eyes instantly wet my skin. His gaze was quite provocative.
My breathing quickened as he pressed his lips against mine urgently, and I pulled away slightly. He tightened his grip on my waist, and as his lips brushed against mine, he let out a languid voice.
“It’s mine now, right?”
His eyes were voluptuous and sensual. Surrounded by the decadent atmosphere so openly displayed, a tingle ran down my spine. He was far more impetuous than I'd expected. How had he held back so long? He used to be incredibly patient, but now he seemed to be lacking considerably.
No, in another sense, the extreme patience is really strong...
“Diana, would you like to eat?”
Noah's soft voice came. "Is that man hungry too?" I, too, was feeling uneasy, my stomach occasionally sending out hunger signals. I quickly nodded, clutching my stomach in case I heard a growl.
“Yes... I’m hungry.”
As evening drew near, the crimson glow of the sunset cast its shadows over the pristine white blanket we'd shared. Shadows stretched beneath the lemon tree potted on the terrace. As I struggled to get up, Noah draped his robe over me and kissed my neck. I feared I'd be shaken again if I made eye contact, so I focused solely on the reverent chimes of the nearby bell tower.
“I heard there’s a famous restaurant nearby.”
Noah sat in his white gown, unfurling the tourist information sheet he'd picked up from the hotel counter and examining it intently. Then, perhaps having changed his mind, he folded it neatly again and placed it on the bedside table.
“I can go tomorrow.”
“What about food?”
“There’s room service, right?”
This guy doesn't want to go out. If that's the case, we should just stay in Loganfield. You might wonder why we came all this way, but that's what honeymoons are all about. I said with a sly chuckle.
“Are you going to be lazy like me?”
His arms wrapped flexibly around my waist. His soft, soap-scented hair tickled my chin. He nuzzled his head against my chest like a cat, causing my gown to rip open, making me uncomfortable. I tried to think of something good.
"I understand why you don't want to go out. Staying here all day isn't bad."
I like to stay locked in my room and be still, but that guy will never be still.
Knock knock.
A knock came, and the hotel maid arrived with food. We ate a meal of mussels, lamb, and a fresh salad with sheep's cheese, accompanied by wine. After we finished, he stroked my cheek like a cat's and began a difficult conversation.
“I think the Queen will investigate you separately.”
“Yes, I hope it never comes to light. If possible, forever.”
“You don’t want to be Queen?”
Noah stared at me intently, asking for my opinion. I nodded, expressing my firm refusal.
"I don't like it. Even if I could change the custom that requires Medean to marry each other. I just don't want to do it."
“I guess so. You don’t like being bothered.”
Noah was resting his chin on the table, looking at me. He paused, lost in thought, and then made a suggestion.
“Then, after the war, let’s go somewhere else. Somewhere far away, where no one knows.”
“Will war end in our generation?”
I asked, knowing this, but also wanting reassurance, hoping to hear the answer I wanted. Even though it was a different world, having traveled backwards in time through human history, I vaguely sensed that we could never escape war.
“So, let’s end it. I told you I didn’t want war.”
Noah, who sometimes tells unrealistic stories, smiled loosely, as if offering reassurance. The deepening evening light dyed his hair. Feeling a vague sense of unease, I placed my hand on Noah's other hand on the table.
“You’re not planning on joining the military and going to war, are you?”
“If necessary, I will do so.”
“No, that’s not what I’m asking you to do.”
Noah's perfectly straight chin tilted slowly. I just wanted to keep him as far away from the war as possible.
"You don't have to end it. Let's live, running away cowardly, until the very end."
My dream is to live as an ordinary person, completely uninvolved in the world and unnoticed in history. But Noah was different.
“There’s nothing I can do. That was the deal I made with the Queen in the first place.”
“A deal?”
I stared at Noah with a persistent gaze. He smiled.
“Do you think the Queen accepted me, even though I’m not of Medea’s blood?”
“You said you were close.”
My voice, which had suddenly dropped, was close to resentment, but he maintained a beautiful smile in harmony.
A consistent smile that never fades, no matter the situation.
"Yes. But since I was an officer from another country, I had to prove that I was fully affiliated with Medea. So I had no choice but to follow the Queen's orders."
“Even if you're drafted into war?”
Despite my fervent hope that it wouldn't be the case, the reality of his sacrifice for me remained unchanged. He spat out a cold-sounding answer.
“If the Queen commands so.”
'You can't run away. I told you I wouldn't let you go.'
The decadent gaze of the man who had been looking down on me as if he were dominating me came to mind. My back ached, and my face flushed.
It was the night we pledged to spend the long, long life together, and it was the moment when we became the closest people in the world. The moon, which followed us ceaselessly through the darkness outside the train window, and the breath that tickled my ear with its rich touch. The eyes, like the ocean on a cloudy day, that I met closest to me. I lost touch with reality, and dizziness and lightheadedness set in.
Noah seemed ready to barge in again, but as if he were considerate of my novice self, he downed two bottles of wine in quick succession, lay down, and with his eyes glowing red, warned me, "I'm only letting you off today." I don't know what I did wrong, though.
I fell into a deep, almost faint sleep in his arms, as he held me tightly, filled with regret. My eyes were swollen, and I knew I must be quite unsightly. My whole body ached and was numb, as if I had a cold. My thighs were particularly sore. I must have been uncharacteristically tense.
“Ugh, water...”
Burning with thirst, I reached out and grabbed a glass of water from the dresser next to my bed, quenching my thirst. Barely regaining my senses, I squinted my eyes and looked around.
The bed next to me is empty. I'm the only one lying on the wide bed. I clutch my head, feeling dizzy as if I had a hangover, and try to come to my senses. I wonder if it's a dream, but this heavy exhaustion, this lingering feeling clinging to my body, this strange sensation, it can't be a dream.
“Noah?”
I called out his name in a muffled voice, but there was no answer at all.
My pajamas, which had been tossed aside the night before, were neatly folded on the nightstand, and my slippers were neatly placed. I had been lying still, my eyes rolling, when I slowly sat up, picking up the slip and gown neatly placed beside the bed.
'If you don't relax, you'll have a hard time tomorrow.'
Noah's advice came to mind. I know it in my head, but my body doesn't. As a result, my legs are shaking. I took a shower, pulled back the curtains, and looked outside at a view that felt quite different from yesterday. Is this the world as seen through the eyes of a married woman?
Even the weight of my clothes felt like a thousand pounds, and I was sprawled out on the sofa, wearing a light muslin dress, when Noah returned. He was wearing a white cotton button-down collared shirt without a tie and black slacks, carrying a tray of food.
“Are you awake?”
The sunlight streaming through the train window illuminated her. Dazzling! How could he be so healthy, fluffy, and beautiful? Only I felt withered and worn out.
“I brought lunch myself. There was pudding, so I took three.”
It was lunch, not breakfast. Noah, considerate of me for oversleeping, stared at me, as if asking for my praise, and blushed.
"Good job."
“Please give me a prize.”
I don't know what he wants, but right now is a problem. I ignored his sweet, fixated gaze, and he smiled blandly. I tried to eat, but my hands shook so much that I dropped my fork several times. If my body, not particularly physically strong, could become so weak, I wondered if that one act had drained all my vitality. Noah, sitting next to me and slicing plain toast, asked.
“Why is that?”
That brazen, unconcerned face, claiming he knew nothing, was pitiful. I sighed deeply.
“It’s hard.”
“I did everything, so why are you tired?”
“That’s right.”
He chuckled like a wicked demon. He must be a demon of lust, someone who bewitches people with his handsome appearance. I was so captivated by him that I married him. After barely finishing my meal, my weakened body finally heard the announcement that we had arrived at our destination. However, I was stuck on the sofa, unable to move.
"Ugh..."
“Should I carry you?”
He did his best to help me up by grabbing my trembling hand. I quickly shook my head.
“No, but it’s our honeymoon, so I’ll do my best.”
It was like the day after I'd decided to start exercising for the New Year. Every part of me felt sore, as if I'd been thoroughly beaten. I felt like I'd fall apart if I wore heels, so I put on low-top shoes, clinging to Noah's arm as I hesitantly got off the train and made my way through the station.
Ariot, the capital of Hellas, boasts a long history, boasting a charming mix of temples dating back to the 11th century, ancient architecture, and modern buildings. I'd been tempted to ride one of the city's double-decker carriages, but I preferred comfort and took a taxi. As we headed to our hotel, a vibrant cobalt blue horizon stretched out before us.
Upon arriving at the large, luxurious hotel, a manager who spoke the language greeted me and guided me. I was led to a private villa with a terrace, hot spring, and garden. I collapsed onto the bed and blanket in a room decorated with luxurious, exotic decorations and furniture.
Beyond the white-painted terrace, the deep blue sea I'd seen from the taxi stretched endlessly. A cool sea breeze gently swayed the chiffon curtains. The dense white buildings lined up below, against the cool blue of the sea, looked clean and refreshing.
“If you’re tired, take a rest.”
"Yes."
Noah looked down at me with pity as I collapsed into my comfortable clothes, motionless. He took out a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, examined it, then poured a glass and asked, "What's your favorite?"
“Would you like a drink?”
The sound of the alcohol dripping down felt like a signal, so I covered myself with the blanket up to my head as if I was running away.
“No. It’s still broad daylight.”
“My Princess is quick-witted.”
I heard laughter from beyond the blanket. He was no longer acting so casually. I glared at him, eyes bulging.
“I need a break.”
"Yes."
Noah sat on the edge of the bed, looking out toward the terrace. The glass in his hand emptied and refilled several times, and before I knew it, the wine bottle was empty. I thought he must be quite a drinker. Yesterday, he downed two bottles by himself, but he didn't get drunk at all. That's why I was safe. He shook the empty bottle of wine wistfully, then turned to me and asked a question.
“Are you done resting?”
A red hue appeared under his eyes, perhaps from the alcohol or something else. I leaned against the headboard, peeling a hard-skinned orange, and then hesitated, biting my upper lip.
“No, this doesn’t come off well...”
Noah took the orange from my hand and quickly peeled it with a knife. He stared at me silently. His gaze was subtly demanding, suggesting that after I finished eating, he had something to do with me. I let my hand, holding the orange, drop, showing a tired expression. Noah, perhaps taking it in a different light or perhaps playing along, quickly brought his face closer.
“You don’t like it? You said you liked it yesterday.”
"That is..."
“Well, you definitely said it was good.”
“I don’t like it, so please don’t repeat it.”
Why did I do that yesterday? I must have been possessed by something. I gave up and slid down from the headboard, lying on the sheets. Noah's eyes instantly wet my skin. His gaze was quite provocative.
My breathing quickened as he pressed his lips against mine urgently, and I pulled away slightly. He tightened his grip on my waist, and as his lips brushed against mine, he let out a languid voice.
“It’s mine now, right?”
His eyes were voluptuous and sensual. Surrounded by the decadent atmosphere so openly displayed, a tingle ran down my spine. He was far more impetuous than I'd expected. How had he held back so long? He used to be incredibly patient, but now he seemed to be lacking considerably.
No, in another sense, the extreme patience is really strong...
***
“Diana, would you like to eat?”
Noah's soft voice came. "Is that man hungry too?" I, too, was feeling uneasy, my stomach occasionally sending out hunger signals. I quickly nodded, clutching my stomach in case I heard a growl.
“Yes... I’m hungry.”
As evening drew near, the crimson glow of the sunset cast its shadows over the pristine white blanket we'd shared. Shadows stretched beneath the lemon tree potted on the terrace. As I struggled to get up, Noah draped his robe over me and kissed my neck. I feared I'd be shaken again if I made eye contact, so I focused solely on the reverent chimes of the nearby bell tower.
“I heard there’s a famous restaurant nearby.”
Noah sat in his white gown, unfurling the tourist information sheet he'd picked up from the hotel counter and examining it intently. Then, perhaps having changed his mind, he folded it neatly again and placed it on the bedside table.
“I can go tomorrow.”
“What about food?”
“There’s room service, right?”
This guy doesn't want to go out. If that's the case, we should just stay in Loganfield. You might wonder why we came all this way, but that's what honeymoons are all about. I said with a sly chuckle.
“Are you going to be lazy like me?”
His arms wrapped flexibly around my waist. His soft, soap-scented hair tickled my chin. He nuzzled his head against my chest like a cat, causing my gown to rip open, making me uncomfortable. I tried to think of something good.
"I understand why you don't want to go out. Staying here all day isn't bad."
I like to stay locked in my room and be still, but that guy will never be still.
Knock knock.
A knock came, and the hotel maid arrived with food. We ate a meal of mussels, lamb, and a fresh salad with sheep's cheese, accompanied by wine. After we finished, he stroked my cheek like a cat's and began a difficult conversation.
“I think the Queen will investigate you separately.”
“Yes, I hope it never comes to light. If possible, forever.”
“You don’t want to be Queen?”
Noah stared at me intently, asking for my opinion. I nodded, expressing my firm refusal.
"I don't like it. Even if I could change the custom that requires Medean to marry each other. I just don't want to do it."
“I guess so. You don’t like being bothered.”
Noah was resting his chin on the table, looking at me. He paused, lost in thought, and then made a suggestion.
“Then, after the war, let’s go somewhere else. Somewhere far away, where no one knows.”
“Will war end in our generation?”
I asked, knowing this, but also wanting reassurance, hoping to hear the answer I wanted. Even though it was a different world, having traveled backwards in time through human history, I vaguely sensed that we could never escape war.
“So, let’s end it. I told you I didn’t want war.”
Noah, who sometimes tells unrealistic stories, smiled loosely, as if offering reassurance. The deepening evening light dyed his hair. Feeling a vague sense of unease, I placed my hand on Noah's other hand on the table.
“You’re not planning on joining the military and going to war, are you?”
“If necessary, I will do so.”
“No, that’s not what I’m asking you to do.”
Noah's perfectly straight chin tilted slowly. I just wanted to keep him as far away from the war as possible.
"You don't have to end it. Let's live, running away cowardly, until the very end."
My dream is to live as an ordinary person, completely uninvolved in the world and unnoticed in history. But Noah was different.
“There’s nothing I can do. That was the deal I made with the Queen in the first place.”
“A deal?”
I stared at Noah with a persistent gaze. He smiled.
“Do you think the Queen accepted me, even though I’m not of Medea’s blood?”
“You said you were close.”
My voice, which had suddenly dropped, was close to resentment, but he maintained a beautiful smile in harmony.
A consistent smile that never fades, no matter the situation.
"Yes. But since I was an officer from another country, I had to prove that I was fully affiliated with Medea. So I had no choice but to follow the Queen's orders."
“Even if you're drafted into war?”
Despite my fervent hope that it wouldn't be the case, the reality of his sacrifice for me remained unchanged. He spat out a cold-sounding answer.
“If the Queen commands so.”
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