Psst! We're moving!
Najane looked around the familiar room. The spacious room had a pleasant scent, and the fire in the fireplace burned brightly. However, the child lying in bed, curled up, struggled with a fever that wouldn’t subside.
Next to the bed, a nightstand was lined with various types of medicine bottles, some of which were nearly empty from frequent use. These were expensive medicines that commoners would never have seen.
Najane sadly watched the child shivering with cold despite it being a warm spring. The child was Emaydis Powley. Najane looked down at their own small and fragile body, wearing a bewildered expression.
This was a memory from Najane’s childhood.
“Miss. Your throat must be hurting, right? Drink this.”
Mikael entered the bedroom and offered a warm cup of tea mixed with medicine. However, the young Emaydis refused to drink it. The medicine Mikael gave was particularly bitter and had a foul smell.
When Emaydis tightly shut their mouth and hid under the covers, Mikael quietly moved the cup with the medicine away.
“You need to take the medicine.”
“...I don’t want to.”
“You need to take it. It will help you recover from the cold and also improve your swordsmanship training.”
“...Did Mother allow this?”
“Swordsmanship training? That’s not the case. But if you take this medicine regularly, she will surely be happy.”
“...Really?”
“Of course.”
With a gentle smile, Mikael made Emaydis swallow the bitter medicine. Emaydis almost threw it up, but after hearing that Nellis would be happy, they forced themselves to swallow it.
Najane was briefly confused by the scene, one that seemed to have occurred when they were about five or six years old, based on the child’s size.
“It’s noisy outside, Mikael...”
Emaydis, who had reluctantly swallowed the medicine, muttered quietly. Mikael tucked the blanket around them and explained as if he had forgotten.
“The King has visited Powley Territory.”
“King... His Majesty? Why...?”
“Every few years, His Majesty travels around the country to prevent local nobles from causing trouble. Today, he’s visiting Powley Territory. But this time, he says he’ll just stop by briefly before leaving.”
“...Shouldn’t I meet him?”
“In order to meet the King, you need to debut in society. You’re not able to meet him yet.”
“But... I’m his child...”
“Do you want to meet him?”
“Just... just...”
Young Emaydis hesitated, unable to speak honestly. Najane, standing behind Mikael, looked at the shy expression of their younger self. Mikael gently patted Emaydis and kindly said,
“You might be disappointed.”
“Why?”
“Most children are born with love, but not all children are.”
“...Mikael, I don’t understand what you mean...”
“It means that not all parents love their children just because they are their children.”
“...Does the King... hate me?”
“I’m not sure.”
Mikael’s answer was ambiguous.
Young Emaydis became even more frightened.
“You two... you love each other... so...”
“Would you like to find out?”
“...How?”
Instead of answering, Mikael picked up young Emaydis and left the bedroom. The mansion was silent. The servants were outside, welcoming the king’s procession.
Najane, following Mikael, stood frozen in the hallway. Finally, they remembered what happened after that...
Mikael took young Emaydis to Nellis’ bedroom and hid her in a cabinet used to store vases and heavy ornaments.
“No matter what happens, you must not leave here.”
Emaydis, who knew nothing, covered her mouth with a frightened expression and nodded. Najane lowered their head, covering their face with both hands.
From there, young Emaydis witnessed Nellis crying quietly. Leon was harsh toward Nellis. He whispered that he loved her and made her bear two daughters, but he was always cold to her.
So, Najane thought Nellis cried out of guilt for committing adultery and the sorrow of not being loved properly. Otherwise, the steel-like Nellis would never have shed tears.
What conversation had they overheard in that cupboard that day? Najane struggled to recall the words, sitting down. But the more they tried to dredge up the memory, the more their consciousness sank into a dark abyss.
“The pope’s ... will never fail. You know that well, Nellis. One of the two children must...”
Leon spoke to Nellis, sounding frustrated. Then Nellis shouted at him. She seemed angry.
“Does His Majesty only plan to... with those children?”
There was anger in Nellis’ voice.
But Leon responded coldly, as if annoyed.
“Are you accusing me now? I thought you agreed with my will when you had the children.”
“...You think I agreed with His Majesty’s will? Who would dare refuse the king of this country... Who would!? I saw the pope’s ... and how could I...?”
Nellis raised her voice, letting out a deep sigh as if in pain.
“I’ve told you repeatedly. Neither of these children can ever become a sword master. They don’t have the talent. Emaydis... she’s interested in the sword, but her body is too weak. Did the pope really say that...?”
“You think I deceived you?”
“I’ve heard that you and Queen ... are...”
“Well, I can’t see ... from Audelica.”
“Your Majesty!”
Nellis cried out. Najane, in pain, covered their ears.
Leon grabbed Nellis’ shoulder and spoke firmly.
“Between us, ... would become ... in this world. If there’s an heir from the queen, the position of your child will surely be shaken.”
Najane, curled up on the floor, exhaled heavily.
Nellis slapped Leon’s hand away and spoke coldly.
“...I won’t let my child become ...”
“Nellis!”
“His Majesty is right... I followed His Majesty’s will because of loyalty, because I believed I had to give everything for the country as a member of the Powley family. But... I know what entering ... means. Even if I am a blindly loyal fool, I can’t send my child there.”
Najane’s ears felt muffled as if submerged in water.
Feeling as if their body was sinking somewhere, Najane slowly removed their hands from their ears.
“I will never... never teach Emaydis the sword. Even if it’s her fate! Let Audelica and I be the ones used by His Majesty!”
Najane heard Nellis’ sobs and opened their eyes.
Sunlight, filtered through the curtains, poured yellowishly onto the side of the bed. As Najane looked at the dust floating in the sunlight, they rubbed their eyes. A few tears had gathered at the corners of their eyes.
Sniffling softly, Najane tried to sit up from the bed but was startled when a small hand firmly grabbed their ankle, preventing them from getting up.
Surprised, Najane looked down and saw a child poking their head out from under the bed. The child, looking much younger than any soldier boy, shook their head, signaling that Najane should not get up.
“Not yet... you shouldn’t get up yet...”
The boy spoke in a shy voice.
Najane paused, halfway through sitting up, and stared at the unfamiliar child.
“Who are you...?”
“If you move too suddenly... you might hurt yourself. So... um... slowly...”
Instead of responding, Najane nodded. The boy, relieved by the gesture, adjusted his round glasses on his nose.
The boy’s eyes were a beautiful shade of purple, much like Gwyneth’s. The purple eyes were a symbol of a holy power user.
Carefully pulling back the blanket, Najane fixed their gaze on the boy. Just as they were about to ask if the boy was a holy power user, the boy stepped closer and politely spoke.
“Now that you’re awake, I... um, I need to go to the relief center. But while you were lying down, someone asked me to deliver a message.”
“A message? Who is it from?”
“Well... it’s... it’s a little hard to explain...”
The boy blinked his round eyes rapidly, looking embarrassed.
“The person said... that sacrificing one’s life to save others is meaningless. But the sword’s destructive power, shape, and trajectory were all perfect for the first time. I don’t really understand what that means, but... they asked me to deliver it like this...”
The boy fidgeted with his fingers while faithfully relaying the message.
Najane tilted their head in confusion at the boy’s words. Who could have said such things? But the boy seemed to have found it difficult to explain. Still, he seemed relieved to have completed the task, and he bowed to Najane.
“Now that I’ve delivered the message, I’ll be going.”
“Wait, kid!”
As the boy was about to leave the room, Najane urgently called out to him.
The boy, who had been turning the doorknob, looked back at Najane.
“What’s your name?”
“Boris.”
“Did you treat me?”
“No. By the time I arrived, you were almost fully treated.”
While holding the doorknob, Boris was answering faithfully but suddenly took a step back. Someone had just opened the bedroom door.
Gwyneth, who had opened the door, skillfully caught Boris before he could fall. After steadying Boris, Gwyneth removed his hand from the doorknob and smiled.
“Hello, Najane. It’s been a while. How are you feeling?”
“Your... Highness...”
Feeling embarrassed for greeting Gwyneth in their pajamas, Najane quickly tried to get out of bed. But as soon as their bare feet hit the floor, their body wobbled.
Startled, Gwyneth rushed over to support Najane. Flustered, Najane grabbed onto the nearby furniture and managed to sit back down on the bed. Boris, who had been watching the sudden situation near the door, looked between Najane and Gwyneth with a confused expression.
Gwyneth, having seated Najane back on the bed, turned to Boris and asked.
“Can you take a look at their ankle?”
“Yes, yes!”
Boris quickly approached Najane and placed his hands on their delicate ankle. A warm energy rose from the spot where his fern-like hands touched.
After withdrawing his hands, Boris shook his head.
“You’re not injured.”
“Hmm, it seems like your body was shocked from fainting in the field. Well... you’ve only been asleep for two full days...”
“Two days?”
At the unexpected words, Najane’s eyes quickly filled with alarm. They had only thought half a day had passed, with the midday sunlight pouring in.
But two days? What had happened during that time? Maximón? Amelia?
As Najane desperately tried to recall what had happened in the field, their expression grew darker. They remembered using the sword aura and then vomiting blood.
Najane pressed their palm to their mouth, and their eyes trembled wildly. Gwyneth, who had been sitting in a chair, gently patted Boris on the back, signaling him to leave.
Boris, noticing Najane’s reaction, left the room where the priests were waiting. When the bedroom door closed and the surroundings grew quiet, Gwyneth spoke calmly.
“Where should I start...?”
Gwyneth let out a brief sigh.
“Since you’re remembering what happened in the field, let’s talk about your body first.”
Gwyneth’s gaze, meeting Najane’s, carried a trace of sympathy.
“Did you know that every time you use the sword aura, your life span shortens?”