The Embers Become Fire Again (2)

“Sorry.”

The Prince of Dotrin did not know what else he could do as he looked at the two royal men of Leonberg.

“I’m really sorry.”

He kept his head down and apologized as if all the catastrophes had been his fault.
The king opened his mouth, his dry lips hardened, and he closed his mouth.
No sound escaped from those lips.

The king murmured silently many times as if he had forgotten how to speak.

“Sire,” the palace commander said as he looked at the king’s regret-filled face.
The king did not answer.

“Sire!” Nogisa called out, tired of the tension.

Only then did King Lionel make a sound.

“I am just grateful for the hard work of the prince who flew here in bad weather to deliver the news.”

The king spoke in a dry, haggard voice as if all the moisture had been sucked from his body.

“Your wyvern will not be able to fly in this weather, so we will provide you a place to rest.
This is a fortress in wartime, so there will not be much comfort.
But on such a bad day, the imperials tend to prepare for winter, so leave your concerns aside,” the king instructed in that same dry voice.

“It looks like the snowfall is increasing.
The commanders will have to double-check to make sure that all supplies and material in the citadel does not become wet or frozen.”

“Sire,” repeated Nogisa.

“On snowy days, it always seems that it is less cold, so it is not so great an issue.
But it is unusually cold today.
The hardships of the soldiers on the wall will be indescribable, so ready the supplies you have stored away so the soldiers can warm up.”

The king had seemed to forget how to speak a while ago, now he spoke without stopping.

“It will be okay to light bonfires on the wall-“

“Sire!” came the reckless shout of the palace knight commander as he interrupted the king.
“Leave the work of the citadel to us.”

The king grew silent as he heard Nogisa’s words.
He turned, but he did not take a step.
King Lionel stood there, his back turned, for a while and then asked, “Her body… Did you find her body?”

The king wanted to know what was done with the queen’s corpse.

“They haven’t found it yet,” Doris replied.

The king looked up at the sky in response.
His back looked unusually old and slumped, perhaps because of the snow piling up on his head and shoulders.

“Once more, I am grateful for the prince’s hard work in delivering this news without reluctance by traveling over a vast distance.
I hope there will be no inconveniences during his stay.”

King Lionel spoke of Doris’s toil in a subdued voice and departed.
The Prince of Dotrin stayed for a while and then hurried away.
All who remained was the first prince and his knights.

Arwen’s attention had been focused on her master all this time.
The prince seemed shocked and incapable of believing the news of his mother’s death.
He did not look normal.

“Your Highness,” Arwen called to the prince in a deeply subdued voice.

“Uh? Uh,” the prince replied as he shook his shoulders.

“The wind grows cold.
We must go inside.”

“We should.
I have to go in.”

Prince Adrian’s answer sounded somehow lost, and his eyes twitched; they couldn’t find a place to focus on.
Arwen had seen the prince like this in the past when he had been barely conscious after his mortal wounding in the battle against the Warlord.

The prince looked exactly the same that time as he did now.
Arwen was filled with sorrow as she took in his appearance, so much so that she couldn’t offer comforting words.

Bernardo Eli didn’t notice this, asked suddenly, “Well then.
Are you okay?”

“What?” the prince asked.

Eli couldn’t mention the queen’s death with his mouth, so he was left speechless.

“Oh, you don’t have to pretend to be so calm in front of us,” Eli then said, and so uncomfortable his words that they sounded absurd to those hearing them.
Eli did not know of the first prince’s sincere thoughts, and Arwen wanted to seal the mouth of a man so unaware of matters in the most radical way she could.

“Bernardo Eli.”

“Sir Arwen?”

“Shut that mouth.”

Eli did not know why Arwen would say this, did not realize that he had spoken awkwardly.
Still, he was taken aback by the sorrow in Arwen’s voice, so he kept quiet.

“What? Why is everyone looking at me with such faces?” the prince asked in a cheerful tone.

“I’m fine.
It’s really nothing,” he added.

The prince did not seem to know what his face looked like or how his voice sounded to the others.
hazy with tears, and Bernardo Eli, still unaware, merely chewed on his lip, his face pale.
The other knights also looked at the prince as if they were sorry, and they left their hatred for the empire to the side.

“I mean it if I say I’m okay,” the prince emphasized, and it wasn’t a lie; he really seemed to believe it.
That was even more regretful, and Arwen’s stomach felt a bit cramped.

To her eyes, the first prince looked like a child who had made a big mistake, and not getting the punishment he deserved made him restless.
He had looked like this in the days when he had believed that his uncle’s death was his fault.
His burden and his sickness to bear alone.

“Oh really! If a person says they’re okay, they are,” the prince said in anger.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

After a while, he turned around and went quickly followed him.
Arwen gave a small sigh.
And then, the prince was out of sight.

* * *

When I had first awoken in the body of the prince, the queen had been a mere nuisance.

It was very uncomfortable to see her look at me with those intense, calm eyes, without her knowing that someone had taken over her son’s body.
It was unbearably uncomfortable, so I always made all kinds of excuses to avoid the queen, to avoid any encounter with her if possible.

And when I was forced to sit by her, all I could think of was how to get out of that seat.

“Why don’t you look straight at your mother?”

“You don’t even call me mother anymore.”

The queen had been regret-filled then, and I could see the sadness in her heart on her face.
Nevertheless, she always looked at me with a steady gaze.
At that time, I had closed my eyes and pretended to sleep, and she had sat by my bedside in silence for a while.
Her hand then clenched mine, and she left.
After she was gone, my mind had been blank for some time.

The warmth of her grasp had remained on the back of my hand, my palm, my fingers, and it had worried me.
It was a kind of emotion I had never felt before, but I knew: The unconditional love and warmth she showed were not for me.
It was her motherhood expressed toward her real son, the original owner of this body.

Knowing that had made me more uncomfortable because her love was a reminder of my sin of taking the body of another person.

It was different when dealing with the king and the others because they had wanted me to do things.
I figured that it was enough to satisfy their wishes because they hadn’t liked the original owner of this flesh in the first place.
I believed I truly deserved their praise and feelings expressed toward my achievements.

But the queen was different.
She asked nothing of me, and she was the only one who loved Adrian, who everyone hated.
I never knew how I could pay back such unconditional love.

As time passed, my feelings did not diminish but instead grew greater.
Later, even listening to her voice made my heart overflow with emotion.

The queen was an uncomfortable being to me, and I had thought that I wouldn’t have any feelings were she to die.
It was not so.

“However… It has been confirmed that the queen is not included among those who have safely escaped.”

The moment I had heard Doris speak, my heart sank.

“I will say it again.
Her Majesty the Queen resisted the enemy and attracted their attention until the very end.
At the last moment… she cast herself from the wall.”

An unknown emotion had welled up from deep inside my body.
It wasn’t sadness.
I never had enough emotional exchanges with the queen while she lived for me to mourn her death.
My relationship with her had always been what she had given unconditionally.
The emotion was also different from what I had felt at the time when my uncle had died.
I had clearly known what I was feeling at that time.

It was not so now.
I couldn’t understand my heart; it was just confusing.
That was probably why Arwen and the others couldn’t stand looking at me, filled with sorrow as they were.

It felt as if their gazes were rebuking me.
As if they pointed their fingers at me for not being sad about the death of my mother.
It felt like they were decrying my brazenness for taking the body of another.

Of course, I knew that I was just projecting my emotions onto them, but I couldn’t control my heart even though I knew this.

I eventually got angry and left them, almost fleeing.
I had existed as a sword for centuries and had the spirit of a Master, and yet my emotions felt unclear.
My chest felt cramped as if some weight was crushing it.
My turmoil became real because I couldn’t figure out what the hell this emotion was that was squashing me like some big rock.

So, I took up my sword.
I thought that my inner atmosphere would become less suffocating if I trained.
The winter’s weather was rough when I went to the citadel’s courtyard.

I breathed in the cold air, yet no matter how much of it filled my lungs, the constriction inside of me was not released.
I swung my sword like a madman, and I swung and swung as I sang a poem until all the mana within my body drained away.
I sank to the floor, exhausted.

My emotions were still the same.
I was sitting there, blank and staring at the sky, when someone put fur over my shoulders.

“Your body looks like an ice cube.
Stop this and get up.”

It was Arwen’s voice, and when I turned around, I saw Adelia’s tearful face next to Arwen’s stern visage.
It seemed that Adelia had called Arwen when she saw me run into the blizzard like a crazy person.
I looked at them for a while and then turned my head back.

“Your Highness.”

Arwen forced me to stand when I didn’t get up.
She then pulled me with force.

“Agh,” I spat out as she led me on.

When I woke up, I was lying on a bed in dry clothes.
I felt a chill.
I trembled, and I grabbed the hem of the blanket as I curled my body up.

I was sick all night, and in the midst of that confusion, someone’s voice came to me.

“There is no need or reason for anger and sadness.

“Cry when you are sad, and be angry when you are angry.”

I would do that from now on.
I tried to ask who it was who spoke, but my lips failed to form words.
All that escaped from my throat was a fevered moan.

And when the next day dawned, I woke up well.
The high fever that had boiled within me, and the emotions that had suppressed my heart, had disappeared as if they had been illusionary.

“Your Highness!” Adelia, her face haggard and eyes watery, as if she had been by my side all night long, ran into my arms.
One foot away from the bed was Arwen, her complexion also shabby as she looked at me.

“I have caused you useless worry,” I told them.

“You are good now, so that’s it,” said Arwen, the relief clear on her face.

“But who came to me at night?” I asked as I wiped away Adelia’s tears.

Arwen nodded and said, “His Majesty was here overnight.”

“His Majesty?”

“He did not stay for a long time, but he personally took care of your Highness’s body during his stay,” stated Arwen.

“His Majesty also dampened a towel and wiped your Highness’s sweat off,” Adelia said with a slight snort.
I could only frown as I heard it.
How did the king feel after he had lost his lifelong companion? The words I had heard amid my confused fever dreams have become caught in my heart.

“I will go to his Majesty.”

I immediately located the king.
I had thought he would be wracked by heartache for the loss of his wife, but he was not in his bed; he was in the conference room of the citadel.

“You are in a better shape,” the king greeted me, his face pale.
Unlike his hazy white hair, his eyes shone clearer than ever.

“When this blizzard ends, I will be away from the citadel for a while.
I will let the Crown Prince do his best to keep the citadel while I am away.”

The same held for his voice: It possessed great clarity.

“What do you mean, leave the citadel?” I asked, frowning at the sudden statement.
The king then replied in an embarrassed tone.

“Don’t we have to pay them back in kind?”

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