Chapter 56: Two People at the Crossroads (9)
Eustar shook his head.
“No, it’s not always like that… If it were, I wouldn’t be able to do anything.”
Lyla was curious about what he meant, but she didn’t press the question.
Still, she was relieved that Deceptor wasn’t always nearby. She hadn’t thought about it yesterday in her rush, but if he had been watching them from somewhere while she was tracing In…
“Don’t worry,” Eustar said, as if reading her mind. “He left as he was last night and hasn’t returned yet.”
A small sigh escaped Lyla’s lips.
She quickly finished the remaining food, washed up while Mel attended to her, and changed her clothes. The careful way Mel massaged her neck and shoulders felt slightly unusual, and Lyla asked.
“Mel, what happened?”
Mel looked at Lyla, glanced briefly toward the living room where Eustar was, and lowered her voice.
“I should be the one asking, Lord Chrisrad. Were you alright?”
Lyla’s expression turned puzzled.
“What do you mean?”
Mel blinked, seeming unsure how to phrase it, and said,
“Yesterday, His Highness… suddenly entered your room. He didn’t tell me to stay outside. He was so different from usual that I got scared.”
“Ah, that’s…”
Lyla’s lips froze as she was about to respond. She couldn’t tell Mel about Deceptor. Nor could she mention almost being deceived by a demon…
“It’s nothing. I think he was just curious if I was alright.”
However, Mel looked even more suspicious at Lyla’s answer.
Lyla hurriedly put on her uniform shirt, then the vest and jacket one after another. When she pinned on the badge signifying her as a member of the Sentinella, Mel adjusted her suspenders and sighed softly.
“You’ve just become the Princess Consort, Lord Chrisrad… You should be meeting noblewomen and making your presence known at the palace, but there’s hardly time for that.”
“I don’t care. This is better, actually.”
Lyla answered immediately, though Mel didn’t seem convinced. Considering she had been paid by the royal family since she was fifteen, it was a natural reaction.
“I’m off, Mel.”
“Lord Chrisrad.”
Lyla turned, looking at Mel with a “what’s wrong?” expression.
Mel hesitated, then dug into her sleeve and pulled out a very old, tiny pouch, handing it to Lyla. Though obviously old, it gave off a strangely pleasant scent.
“What’s this?”
Mel replied,
“It’s a charm my grandmother gave me when I came to work at the palace. I always carry it, but I thought it would be better if you took it with you, Lyla.”
Lyla blinked a couple of times without responding and shook her head.
“It’s precious. You shouldn’t give it to someone else. Keep it.”
She tried to return the charm, but Mel refused. For a moment, there was a small struggle between Lyla trying to give it back and Mel refusing to take it.
“Lyla, are you ready yet?”
Eustar’s voice called from outside. Seeing the opportunity, Mel snatched the charm from Lyla’s hand and slipped it into the inside pocket of her jacket.
“Take it with you.”
Lyla gave a momentary awkward look, then, seeing no other choice, fastened her boots.
“I’ll return it when we get back.”
Mel gave a smile that was neither confirming nor denying. As Lyla stepped into the living room, Eustar reached out as if urging her forward. Mel, standing a few steps behind, bowed and saw them off.
“Take care, Your Highness. Lord Chrisrad.”
When the two entered the Cersita headquarters, Gallon Tot, who had been inspecting something busily, stood up straight to greet them.
“Your Highness, you’ve arrived.”
He greeted Eustar first, then paused for a moment—perhaps debating the proper title—before politely bowing to Lyla.
“Princess Consort.”
“You can just call me Lyla. Chrisrad is fine too.”
Instead of answering, Gallon looked at Eustar, silently asking if it was alright.
Eustar said,
“I didn’t give the order, Gallon.”
Gallon responded with an “Ah,” then turned back to Lyla.
“My apologies. Then I will call you Lord Chrisrad.”
“Thank you.”
As Lyla nodded, Eustar spoke immediately.
“Where did the report come from, Gallon?”
“The Third Branch. But the site of the sync is a bit far from the branch.”
“Is it okay to bypass other stops?”
“Calculations show it’s actually better this way.”
Good. Eustar muttered under his breath and walked toward the portal. Another waiting agent handed him a report.
While setting the portal coordinates, Eustar skimmed the report. Meanwhile, Lyla placed three or four oranges into her leather pocket to prevent motion sickness during the portal travel—though she hoped she wouldn’t need to eat them.
“A small village. Helos? I’ve never heard of it.”
Gallon answered,
“On the map, it only shows as a dot. It was just recently added to updated maps.”
“Not a monster?”
“No, not a monster. Probably an unknown spiritual phenomenon…”
Gallon trailed off, then continued openly.
“Seems like a type of ghost. It’s physically affecting the area.”
“Mainly what kind of effect?”
“Hallucinations, it seems.”
“Hallucinations, huh.”
Eustar repeated quietly to himself and tucked the report away.
“Alright, if it’s not monsters, we’ll go first. Still, let’s contact Director Jimias just in case.”
“Understood.”
Lyla stepped onto the portal after Eustar, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. Every travel required a different method depending on the location—being submerged in water or shattered into pieces—and she wondered what this one would be. Her heart raced.
“Don’t tense up, Lyla. It will worsen motion sickness. Portals are magical tools, and if energy is unstable, it will affect you.”
“After about ten more trips, it should be fine,” Lyla said with a blank expression. Only Eustar knew she was joking.
He smiled faintly and gently held her hand.
“Does this help you relax?”
Lyla looked down at their joined hands, then turned her head without answering. A faint warmth spread across her cheek, but she tried to ignore it. She appreciated that he showed just enough kindness without being overwhelming.
“Ten seconds to transfer,” Gallon said while checking coordinates. The moment he spoke, Lyla felt the ground beneath her feet drop.
It felt like standing on a swamp… Lyla almost grabbed the portal’s edge. But Eustar gripped her hand tighter before she could.
“It’s alright,” he said again.
“Don’t worry.”
“Eight seconds,” Gallon called. Lyla now felt as if she had sunk to her knees, a chilling shiver running through her. It truly felt like a swamp—damp, sticky, and even what seemed like decayed weeds wrapping around her ankles…
“Who is Director Jimias?” Lyla asked urgently, trying not to cling to the portal. Not that she was truly curious—she just wanted to divert her thoughts. The cold, sticky swamp seemed to rise toward her chest.
“He’s the head of the Third Branch in Gilonik. Quite charming. Though, today you probably won’t meet him.”
“In what way… charming? Wait, Eustar, it feels like something is pulling my foot.”
“Hmm, it probably is pulling, but don’t worry… Jimias comes from a non-noble family. At first glance, he seems like a handsome, pensive gentleman. But…”
Plop. Lyla tasted the bitter mud in her mouth and regretted not eating an orange first.
King Od, the monarch’s closest aide and chamberlain, Basso, looked extremely tired, having not slept a wink all night.
Despite handling delicate matters with care, he was still resilient, though age had begun to show in the dark shadows under his eyes.
“Basso, I’ve brought the medicine,” said the physician quietly as he entered. His voice was almost inaudible, but Basso frowned and signaled for him to stay quiet.
“His Majesty just fell asleep. Step outside.”
“But if you don’t give him the medicine now, then—”
“I won’t say it twice.”
The physician, a mix of worry and fear on his face, turned. As he stepped a few paces away, Basso said,
“Leave the medicine.”
He heard the sound of the container being set down and the door quietly open and close. Even with his back turned, Basso could clearly imagine the physician’s movements.
Hunched over, taking small, hurried steps. Anyone entering Od’s chamber would move in terror like that.
Why wouldn’t they? Basso thought. The king, wilting from an unknown disease, committing violent acts, with a face that contorted into a skull-like mask before bursting into laughter—he could seem mad enough to terrify anyone.
But not now. Basso whispered internally and approached Od’s bed.
The canopy curtains were down, but even in faint silhouette, he could see that Od was sleeping deeply.
Regular breathing and body cooled to a calm temperature. Basso could tell Od’s condition without touching or checking.
“Your Majesty.”
He murmured quietly. Od slept as if dead. The scene of him vomiting blood, clutching his chest, and thrashing last night was gone.
“May you live in health until that day comes.”
A groan slipped from Od’s mouth. A nightmare seemed to pierce the gentle sleep, making him frown and curl up. A single tear fell from his eye, mirrored by Basso’s own.
