At Barbara's funeral held at the church in Colin City, Commander Chelsea said to me, who was apologizing out of guilt.
"That's what I taught her, Princess. To think of others first. Barbara was a good child who listened to her parents."
She died because she was taught that way.
The commander lowered his head weakly. He knew his daughter had died saving others. Daniel, who attended the funeral in poor health, sat silently by my side. Daniel, who had loved Barbara, didn't cry, only caressing my hand. The child, who knew death meant eternal separation, asked.
"Why doesn't death give us time to say goodbye? I thought I'd see you every day, and then suddenly it says I'll never see you again."
I managed to speak, clenching and unclenching Daniel's small hand.
“Daniel, are you very sad?”
"I'm scared. They won't even give me a chance to stop them. I'm sad and scared that Father, the Princess, and Noah will all leave, leaving me alone in the end."
I watched the Duke of Hessen's back as he paid his respects from afar and said nothing. Daniel didn't say anything else either.
“Where did our good baby go?”
There was a voice mumbling like a person not in their right mind, and a sound so loud it bruised my chest. Baroness Chelsea, Barbara's mother, was wandering around the coffin like a ghost. Her fingertips were covered in scars, and her fingernails were completely gone.
“Mom will save you. Baby, Mom is here.”
She wandered around the coffin, then collapsed with a single scream, fainting. People supported her and poured water into her mouth. The caring father, who had affectionately called his daughter Cookie, didn't cry. His expression, though he tried to remain composed, was tinged with lament and loss.
The coffin, which had been adorned with lilies, was empty and tightly sealed. Most of those buried beneath the rubble were said to have been cremated in the intense flames. Therefore, identification could only be determined by the found accessories and medals. Dressed in black funeral attire, I gazed at the black coffin, silently listening to the funeral service. The sight was so burdensome and agonizing that I turned my head away.
The faint trace of a white moon lingered in the sky outside the window. Beneath it, I could see the undertakers waiting for the next funeral. I tried to ignore what was before my eyes and handed the commander a handkerchief embroidered with Barbara's initials.
“Barbara was my dear friend.”
"Yes. I was very proud of that fact. I hung the portrait you painted in my living room and treasured it. I'm so grateful. It brings back vivid memories of her life."
"She was a friend I was proud of. She always stood by her convictions, and I loved that."
He looked down at his handkerchief in silence. The bell ringer continued to toll, mourning the countless deaths. I turned my head again, watching the yellow daffodils sway beneath the church wall. A funeral procession, all black, trod the parched winter ground toward the cemetery. It seemed to be the same nobleman who had previously held the funeral. The coffin being carried was less than half the size of an adult's.
The young couple following behind were crying.
I tried to avoid the situation, trying to avoid eye contact, but all I could see was a pessimistic outlook. My gaze returned to Commander Chelsea. The father, grieving the loss of his daughter, remained steadfast in his soldierly demeanor, even as he felt like he was about to collapse. He spoke, his expression unwavering.
"As a soldier, I only worried about my daughter and wife, who would be left behind after I died. I never imagined my young daughter would be the first to leave. Even though I knew that with the start of the war, everyone was sentenced to a life with a limited time to live, with death at any moment."
“...A life with a limited time limit.”
'If I watch other people's misfortune, it will only be my turn next.'
How many times has the misfortune I ignored returned to me like a butterfly effect?
I felt the blood circulating in my veins suddenly stop. The anxiety I'd been trying to ignore came crashing down on me. Noah's wounds kept obscuring my vision. If he were to die, what would I do if I were left behind? What misfortune could be greater?
Oh, I wish I could die with him.
Vincent came to see me late in the afternoon, his face sad, repeatedly picking up and putting down his teacup. He seemed to have something to say, but he couldn't quite bring himself to say it.
“Vincent, what’s going on? You didn’t just come here to have tea with me, did you?”
His wheat-colored eyes slowly sank at the urging tone. He looked down at his teacup, then sighed deeply and spoke.
"Count Rotsilt have transferred over 15% of the Frogen Empire's bonds to Diana Parsene, and as a creditor, you hold real power. This is the work of my deranged partner."
“Bonds? That’s what Noah did?”
"We bought up the bonds that were being issued at a low price. At Mr. Rotsilt's request, the Medea royal family also cooperated."
I recalled the Queen's words when she spoke of 'results'.
Instead of providing the funds needed to barely recover by purchasing bonds, she held onto shares with rights, incurring the wrath of Emperor Frogen. The military funds and provocations led to the Loganfield raid. At this rate, a quick end to the war would be impossible, let alone a ceasefire. Realizing that the Queen had feigned trust and aid, using me as leverage, I felt a sense of emptiness. Vincent, seeing me at a loss for words, spoke.
"The Princess is protected by central banks and international financial laws around the world. Having pushed major military companies to the brink of bankruptcy, it was a dangerous situation."
"I felt I would be thoroughly protected while I was here as a Princess. I never imagined that Frogen would retaliate with a bombing attack."
"No one expected that. The Emperor of Frogen, unable to contain his anger, lost his temper and forced it through. They say this place was completely ruined after the Crown Prince's death."
Vincent clicked his tongue weakly, pointing to his head.
He continued speaking, placing the hand he had been holding on the table.
“It was also Mr. Rotsilt who personally killed the Crown Prince.”
“I already heard.”
"All of this was for the Princess's sake. To make himself a common target, a dangerous person. Mr. Rotsilt intervened because the princess was bound to become a target for Frogen and the capitalist forces in the military industry."
A common absurdity, a target of anger. That's what I was talking about. Noah turned all the swords against himself.
I let my arms hang limply and leaned back against the back of my chair. A subtle resentment crept into Vincent's voice.
“I don’t want him to die. He’s my old friend and a great colleague.”
“I don’t want that either, Vincent.”
“I understand that risking your life and attracting attention was a way to protect him, but that kind of thing will never work on a madman like Noah Rotsilt.”
Why can't I ever beat Noah? Why does he always see through my every thought, always running ahead of me, unable to keep up? I bit my lip in frustration. A pang of regret crossed Vincent's face as he looked at me.
"The only thing he fears is the princess's death. And the Princess, too. From the beginning, you were never meant to be together. It shouldn't have been that way. This happened because you each tried to abandon your respective positions and roles."
“Are you trying to say that it was wrong from the beginning?”
"It's true that long-held missions and plans were shattered because of that. We also ended up turning our backs on many capitalist powers."
If Noah had gone his separate way as Duke and Colonel of Frogen, and I as Crown Princess here, then Noah wouldn't have been in danger. No, if we hadn't met in the first place, then Noah wouldn't have been in danger. I didn't answer. Honestly, I don't know what to say. Were we toxic to each other? It was too sweet a poison to think so. Even if we held each other, broken and damaged, it would only leave scars. After a long silence, Vincent smiled bitterly.
"That's not really the point. The problem is that you're desperate to sacrifice yourselves for each other. I don't even want the Princess to die."
"Loganfield, the capital here, is a global financial center. Capitalist forces and allied nations, intent on preventing the premature collapse of Frogen and continuing the war, will begin to pressure Her Majesty Queen Grace II. They're demanding that Noah Rotsilt be eliminated first."
After Vincent left, I paced around the room, trying to soothe my anxiety. The truth that death is fair and comes without warning was so terrifying that I couldn't bear it. The emptiness and anxiety reached an extreme. He was on the front lines, surrounded by countless deaths. By the Queen's orders, by someone's assassination attempt, in the midst of a fierce war. Every time I thought about it, I felt dizzy. Sometimes, the air raid warnings and tinnitus from that day would ring out like hallucinations, deafening my ears.
"Diana, do something right now. No, not Diana, I..."
I felt a sense of dissonance and disorientation so strong that I almost felt dizzy, as if I were berating myself. I closed my mouth. The thoughts and emotions that had been surging and tangled all subsided.
I looked up into the sky and asked.
“What was my original name?”
I just realized I can't remember my original name or appearance. I've always tried to recall things and failed. I've struggled to remember things I can't remember.
“Am I a real person?”
Am I the real me here, or the real me of the real world? Why on earth am I here, and what am I supposed to do? My gaze fixed on the ceiling painting, as chaotic and ornate as my confusion. An angel with countless eyes gazed down at me. I collapsed on the bed, curled up, but I couldn't fall asleep. I clutched my head, a splitting headache threatening to break.
“Ugh...”
I've been suffering from severe insomnia. For a while now, I've been having nightmares about receiving news of his death.
Even the dead people told me the news of Noah's death with their own words and expressions.
Ted and Millia took pity on me and said:
"Princess, Captain Noah Rotsilt has been killed. I'm truly... sorry."
Admiral Claire said with a look of hatred in her eyes.
"I heard your husband died. So many people are dying because of you. You're the cause of all this misfortune."
Erita spoke with tears and resentment in her eyes.
"In the end, you failed to protect Noah. You abandoned him without taking responsibility for him. I would have been different, obviously."
Dr. Rugen said with a bitter smile.
"I wanted you to be happy. I'm sorry."
Barbara held my hand and cried loudly.
"I know it must be hard for you. I'll be by your side to support you."
The obituaries from the dead were more horrifying than I'd imagined. They were dreams that embodied my karma, anxiety, and regret. I usually don't remember my dreams well, but these were vivid. The goosebumps that ran down my spine and to the tips of my hair were vivid. Even though I knew it was a nightmare, I would wake up in despair, trembling from the shock of hearing such tragic and devastating news. I'd experienced the loss of someone precious to me without fail. They were cruel and repulsive dreams. Only occasionally would I dream of my past. Now, I couldn't bear it anymore, so I poured sleeping pills into my mouth, hoping to dream of good memories.
“I want to go back.”
I closed my eyes, muttering a wish. I prayed that this was all a dream, that when I opened my eyes, I would return to my happy daily life.
But it was still a nightmare. This time, it was Celine who appeared. Dressed in a white flapper dress, she looked pristine and beautiful, even though her entire body had been burned to death. She, who had become immortal, asked me with a detached expression.
"Would the Lieutenant Colonel have been as sad as you? He didn't love me."
I thought of Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal, the last person I met.
“He was sad. He tried to keep your will.”
Only then did Celine open her eyes and smile gently. It was a smile I'd never seen before. It was a sincere expression, one she'd only shown to her own people.
"He's a kind person. I regret so many things. I didn't give up on him, and that's how things ended up. I lost my future, and there's no turning back."
The tone was calm, as if everything had been let go. Perhaps it sounded even more so because it was the words of a dead person. I nodded.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“This is the regret you are afraid of.”
The warrior's notice in her hand slowly shook. I stood still, silently observing it.
"So, do whatever you can. When you die, everything becomes meaningless. You can't turn back the clock, but as long as you're alive, you can remember it."
The calm voice gradually faded away.
"That's what I taught her, Princess. To think of others first. Barbara was a good child who listened to her parents."
She died because she was taught that way.
The commander lowered his head weakly. He knew his daughter had died saving others. Daniel, who attended the funeral in poor health, sat silently by my side. Daniel, who had loved Barbara, didn't cry, only caressing my hand. The child, who knew death meant eternal separation, asked.
"Why doesn't death give us time to say goodbye? I thought I'd see you every day, and then suddenly it says I'll never see you again."
I managed to speak, clenching and unclenching Daniel's small hand.
“Daniel, are you very sad?”
"I'm scared. They won't even give me a chance to stop them. I'm sad and scared that Father, the Princess, and Noah will all leave, leaving me alone in the end."
I watched the Duke of Hessen's back as he paid his respects from afar and said nothing. Daniel didn't say anything else either.
“Where did our good baby go?”
There was a voice mumbling like a person not in their right mind, and a sound so loud it bruised my chest. Baroness Chelsea, Barbara's mother, was wandering around the coffin like a ghost. Her fingertips were covered in scars, and her fingernails were completely gone.
“Mom will save you. Baby, Mom is here.”
She wandered around the coffin, then collapsed with a single scream, fainting. People supported her and poured water into her mouth. The caring father, who had affectionately called his daughter Cookie, didn't cry. His expression, though he tried to remain composed, was tinged with lament and loss.
The coffin, which had been adorned with lilies, was empty and tightly sealed. Most of those buried beneath the rubble were said to have been cremated in the intense flames. Therefore, identification could only be determined by the found accessories and medals. Dressed in black funeral attire, I gazed at the black coffin, silently listening to the funeral service. The sight was so burdensome and agonizing that I turned my head away.
The faint trace of a white moon lingered in the sky outside the window. Beneath it, I could see the undertakers waiting for the next funeral. I tried to ignore what was before my eyes and handed the commander a handkerchief embroidered with Barbara's initials.
“Barbara was my dear friend.”
"Yes. I was very proud of that fact. I hung the portrait you painted in my living room and treasured it. I'm so grateful. It brings back vivid memories of her life."
"She was a friend I was proud of. She always stood by her convictions, and I loved that."
He looked down at his handkerchief in silence. The bell ringer continued to toll, mourning the countless deaths. I turned my head again, watching the yellow daffodils sway beneath the church wall. A funeral procession, all black, trod the parched winter ground toward the cemetery. It seemed to be the same nobleman who had previously held the funeral. The coffin being carried was less than half the size of an adult's.
The young couple following behind were crying.
I tried to avoid the situation, trying to avoid eye contact, but all I could see was a pessimistic outlook. My gaze returned to Commander Chelsea. The father, grieving the loss of his daughter, remained steadfast in his soldierly demeanor, even as he felt like he was about to collapse. He spoke, his expression unwavering.
"As a soldier, I only worried about my daughter and wife, who would be left behind after I died. I never imagined my young daughter would be the first to leave. Even though I knew that with the start of the war, everyone was sentenced to a life with a limited time to live, with death at any moment."
“...A life with a limited time limit.”
'If I watch other people's misfortune, it will only be my turn next.'
How many times has the misfortune I ignored returned to me like a butterfly effect?
I felt the blood circulating in my veins suddenly stop. The anxiety I'd been trying to ignore came crashing down on me. Noah's wounds kept obscuring my vision. If he were to die, what would I do if I were left behind? What misfortune could be greater?
Oh, I wish I could die with him.
***
Vincent came to see me late in the afternoon, his face sad, repeatedly picking up and putting down his teacup. He seemed to have something to say, but he couldn't quite bring himself to say it.
“Vincent, what’s going on? You didn’t just come here to have tea with me, did you?”
His wheat-colored eyes slowly sank at the urging tone. He looked down at his teacup, then sighed deeply and spoke.
"Count Rotsilt have transferred over 15% of the Frogen Empire's bonds to Diana Parsene, and as a creditor, you hold real power. This is the work of my deranged partner."
“Bonds? That’s what Noah did?”
"We bought up the bonds that were being issued at a low price. At Mr. Rotsilt's request, the Medea royal family also cooperated."
I recalled the Queen's words when she spoke of 'results'.
Instead of providing the funds needed to barely recover by purchasing bonds, she held onto shares with rights, incurring the wrath of Emperor Frogen. The military funds and provocations led to the Loganfield raid. At this rate, a quick end to the war would be impossible, let alone a ceasefire. Realizing that the Queen had feigned trust and aid, using me as leverage, I felt a sense of emptiness. Vincent, seeing me at a loss for words, spoke.
"The Princess is protected by central banks and international financial laws around the world. Having pushed major military companies to the brink of bankruptcy, it was a dangerous situation."
"I felt I would be thoroughly protected while I was here as a Princess. I never imagined that Frogen would retaliate with a bombing attack."
"No one expected that. The Emperor of Frogen, unable to contain his anger, lost his temper and forced it through. They say this place was completely ruined after the Crown Prince's death."
Vincent clicked his tongue weakly, pointing to his head.
He continued speaking, placing the hand he had been holding on the table.
“It was also Mr. Rotsilt who personally killed the Crown Prince.”
“I already heard.”
"All of this was for the Princess's sake. To make himself a common target, a dangerous person. Mr. Rotsilt intervened because the princess was bound to become a target for Frogen and the capitalist forces in the military industry."
A common absurdity, a target of anger. That's what I was talking about. Noah turned all the swords against himself.
I let my arms hang limply and leaned back against the back of my chair. A subtle resentment crept into Vincent's voice.
“I don’t want him to die. He’s my old friend and a great colleague.”
“I don’t want that either, Vincent.”
“I understand that risking your life and attracting attention was a way to protect him, but that kind of thing will never work on a madman like Noah Rotsilt.”
Why can't I ever beat Noah? Why does he always see through my every thought, always running ahead of me, unable to keep up? I bit my lip in frustration. A pang of regret crossed Vincent's face as he looked at me.
"The only thing he fears is the princess's death. And the Princess, too. From the beginning, you were never meant to be together. It shouldn't have been that way. This happened because you each tried to abandon your respective positions and roles."
“Are you trying to say that it was wrong from the beginning?”
"It's true that long-held missions and plans were shattered because of that. We also ended up turning our backs on many capitalist powers."
If Noah had gone his separate way as Duke and Colonel of Frogen, and I as Crown Princess here, then Noah wouldn't have been in danger. No, if we hadn't met in the first place, then Noah wouldn't have been in danger. I didn't answer. Honestly, I don't know what to say. Were we toxic to each other? It was too sweet a poison to think so. Even if we held each other, broken and damaged, it would only leave scars. After a long silence, Vincent smiled bitterly.
"That's not really the point. The problem is that you're desperate to sacrifice yourselves for each other. I don't even want the Princess to die."
***
"Loganfield, the capital here, is a global financial center. Capitalist forces and allied nations, intent on preventing the premature collapse of Frogen and continuing the war, will begin to pressure Her Majesty Queen Grace II. They're demanding that Noah Rotsilt be eliminated first."
After Vincent left, I paced around the room, trying to soothe my anxiety. The truth that death is fair and comes without warning was so terrifying that I couldn't bear it. The emptiness and anxiety reached an extreme. He was on the front lines, surrounded by countless deaths. By the Queen's orders, by someone's assassination attempt, in the midst of a fierce war. Every time I thought about it, I felt dizzy. Sometimes, the air raid warnings and tinnitus from that day would ring out like hallucinations, deafening my ears.
"Diana, do something right now. No, not Diana, I..."
I felt a sense of dissonance and disorientation so strong that I almost felt dizzy, as if I were berating myself. I closed my mouth. The thoughts and emotions that had been surging and tangled all subsided.
I looked up into the sky and asked.
“What was my original name?”
I just realized I can't remember my original name or appearance. I've always tried to recall things and failed. I've struggled to remember things I can't remember.
“Am I a real person?”
Am I the real me here, or the real me of the real world? Why on earth am I here, and what am I supposed to do? My gaze fixed on the ceiling painting, as chaotic and ornate as my confusion. An angel with countless eyes gazed down at me. I collapsed on the bed, curled up, but I couldn't fall asleep. I clutched my head, a splitting headache threatening to break.
“Ugh...”
I've been suffering from severe insomnia. For a while now, I've been having nightmares about receiving news of his death.
Even the dead people told me the news of Noah's death with their own words and expressions.
Ted and Millia took pity on me and said:
"Princess, Captain Noah Rotsilt has been killed. I'm truly... sorry."
Admiral Claire said with a look of hatred in her eyes.
"I heard your husband died. So many people are dying because of you. You're the cause of all this misfortune."
Erita spoke with tears and resentment in her eyes.
"In the end, you failed to protect Noah. You abandoned him without taking responsibility for him. I would have been different, obviously."
Dr. Rugen said with a bitter smile.
"I wanted you to be happy. I'm sorry."
Barbara held my hand and cried loudly.
"I know it must be hard for you. I'll be by your side to support you."
The obituaries from the dead were more horrifying than I'd imagined. They were dreams that embodied my karma, anxiety, and regret. I usually don't remember my dreams well, but these were vivid. The goosebumps that ran down my spine and to the tips of my hair were vivid. Even though I knew it was a nightmare, I would wake up in despair, trembling from the shock of hearing such tragic and devastating news. I'd experienced the loss of someone precious to me without fail. They were cruel and repulsive dreams. Only occasionally would I dream of my past. Now, I couldn't bear it anymore, so I poured sleeping pills into my mouth, hoping to dream of good memories.
“I want to go back.”
I closed my eyes, muttering a wish. I prayed that this was all a dream, that when I opened my eyes, I would return to my happy daily life.
But it was still a nightmare. This time, it was Celine who appeared. Dressed in a white flapper dress, she looked pristine and beautiful, even though her entire body had been burned to death. She, who had become immortal, asked me with a detached expression.
"Would the Lieutenant Colonel have been as sad as you? He didn't love me."
I thought of Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal, the last person I met.
“He was sad. He tried to keep your will.”
Only then did Celine open her eyes and smile gently. It was a smile I'd never seen before. It was a sincere expression, one she'd only shown to her own people.
"He's a kind person. I regret so many things. I didn't give up on him, and that's how things ended up. I lost my future, and there's no turning back."
The tone was calm, as if everything had been let go. Perhaps it sounded even more so because it was the words of a dead person. I nodded.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“This is the regret you are afraid of.”
The warrior's notice in her hand slowly shook. I stood still, silently observing it.
"So, do whatever you can. When you die, everything becomes meaningless. You can't turn back the clock, but as long as you're alive, you can remember it."
The calm voice gradually faded away.
Comments
Post a Comment