Chapter 40: “You’re Back?”
But the voice that escaped his lips was as dry as sand grinding between one’s teeth.
“I didn’t care enough to notice.”
Greta, as if expecting that response, flashed a dazzling smile.
“Of course. Naturally. You’ve never cared about mere humans.”
She murmured like a song, gently stroking his arm as she continued.
“Someone like you, resurrected from death by divine will, wouldn’t even notice something so trivial.”
Even though she was the one who branded him with an unwanted resurrection and an even more unwanted slave’s mark, Cryer didn’t get angry. He merely focused on a particular element in her rambling that grated on his nerves. But he couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. It was no different from the usual madness she always spouted. So why, all of a sudden…? But he couldn’t follow the thought any further.
“…Anyway, it can’t be dealt with right now. But the sooner, the better.”
Before she could finish suggesting that they kill Olivia—or worse, make her suffer a fate more brutal than death—Cryer curtly cut her off.
“No. Leave her be.”
“What?”
“I said, leave the princess alone.”
Greta blinked, then slowly unwrapped her arm from his. She had heard what he said, but couldn’t understand it. Tilting her head, she asked,
“Leave her alone? Why? Isn’t it better to eliminate annoyances quickly?”
Despite her persistent urging to get rid of Olivia, Cryer didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow. However, hidden from Greta’s view, his hand was clenched into a fist so tightly that the veins bulged on the back of it.
“You’re tied to the Empire because of her, aren’t you? When you should be here—where you truly belong.”
As Greta tilted her head further, shadows swallowed half of her face.
“If you don’t get rid of her, you’ll remain far from me, endlessly…”
“I’m not staying in the Empire because of the princess.”
Cryer wasn’t lying. His presence in the Empire had nothing to do with Olivia herself, but everything to do with the deal he had made with her. Upon hearing this, Greta nodded calmly, as if all her earlier outpourings of emotion had been a lie.
“I see. Then that means you’ll be staying in the Empire, yes?”
“Yes.”
With that confirmation, Greta joined her hands and looked up at him respectfully—like a devout follower awaiting a divine revelation.
“Will you bless me with the reason why?”
His blood-red eyes gazing down at her were utterly still, as if time itself had stopped. As she met that gaze, Greta’s face began to flush. Yes. That was it. Those were the eyes—eyes that saw nothing, held nothing, and regarded everything with detached contemplation.
“No.”
Even as Cryer denied her, Greta didn’t push for more. His will was divine. She was the first slave of the ancient god, his knight, his vessel. One who enacted, or rather had to enact, the will of the divine. Even if it was agonizing, even if she longed for him painfully, she had no choice but to endure.
“Yes. Only after enduring hardship can one taste sweet fruit.”
Her words sounded normal, but carried a twisted, mad undertone. She took a step back. As Cryer looked down at the crown of her bowed head, the corners of his mouth faintly twisted. He hadn’t followed Greta here because of the crown prince’s summons. No—he had come to see the mage. Just before arriving at the palace, Olivia had pulled him into her carriage and blurted out frantically:
“No matter how I think about it, it’s all about information! We need intel! Sure, Isaac is gathering what he can, but you’re the one who can get the closest and hear the most secretive things!”
But then Olivia slumped her shoulders.
“I know you don’t see it that way.”
Cryer, reclining with his legs crossed in the carriage, spoke.
“What do you mean?”
“That you’re not some comrade walking the same path as that crazy mage and her daughter. But still, to them, you’re more of an insider than anyone.”
In truth, he was more than an insider. Without him, there would be no such thing as “purification by the ancient god.” Cryer was essentially everything to the mad duo. Everything else they did was secondary.
“So, what I mean is… hmm, never mind. I guess it’s not right. You don’t have to go out of your way to see that damned mage.”
But Olivia quickly shook her head. Information? It was crucial. And yes, Cryer could obtain it more effectively than anyone else. But even that didn’t justify forcing him into a situation he clearly didn’t want to be in. No way. As Olivia shook her head fiercely, Cryer looked at her silently before murmuring without realizing it,
“No, I’ll go.”
“Huh?”
“As you said, I’m the best person for the job.”
“That may be true, but…”
Olivia hesitated, then asked softly,
“Are you okay facing those… lunatics? You’d have to talk with them to gather info.”
He gently pushed her forehead with his hand and nodded.
“If necessary.”
With his firm reply, Olivia’s face lit up in excitement, her cheeks flushing.
“Go, agent of the enemy within!”
With dramatic flair, she pointed forward, but quickly grabbed his arm again.
“If you even feel the slightest disgust, drop it. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Recalling her small figure anxiously urging him like a worried mother, a faint, fleeting smile crossed Cryer’s lips. Now that he had stopped Greta from acting on her impulses toward Olivia, there was no more reason to remain here. As he passed Greta without another glance, treating her as though she didn’t exist, he said flatly,
“I’ll go see the mage before heading to the Empire.”
With that, he ensured he’d meet the mage before the coronation ended. It wouldn’t take long to extract the information. If Cryer even hinted at curiosity, the mage would probably spill everything. Until now, he’d ignored the nonsense that mage spouted, but now, even that nonsense had to be sifted for crumbs of intel. Without so much as a farewell to Greta, he exited. Behind him, her voice, tinged with laughter, rang out.
“My father? I purified him.”
Knock knock.
Almost before the knocking ended, Olivia called out in her usual elegant tone:
“I said I want to be alone. Leave.”
Cryer paused with his hand on the doorknob. It wasn’t because Olivia told him to leave. He just didn’t understand why he had returned to her so willingly.
“Send him back.”
It wasn’t because the imperial princess had commanded it. He already knew why she’d said it in such an overbearing tone. Then why? Logically speaking, with Greta now aware of Olivia, it was dangerous for him—Greta’s main obsession—to linger near her. Though he had stopped Greta for now, the longer he stayed by Olivia’s side, the more likely Greta would target her again.
Even so, Cryer had returned to Olivia without hesitation or thought. As if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“I… came back?”
Without even realizing it, he had returned to her side. When did this happen? Why? But as he stared at the firmly shut door, unable to find an answer, he reached for the handle. The stagnant air inside the room drifted out, carrying a faint scent of roses.
“That smell? Ah, the rose scent? It’s natural. Runs in my blood. A trait passed down through generations in Bolsheik.”
Olivia had said that once, shaking her head with a bashful grin.
“Bright red hair and rose scent—it’s embarrassingly stereotypical.”
Cryer recalled her sniffing her own arm, and his steps quickened. Soon, he spotted the large, bulging bed. Walking over in one stride, he looked at the small, lumped shape wriggling beneath the covers and said,
“If you want to be alone, I can go somewhere else.”
A low voice fell from above her head. Olivia’s eyes shot open.
“Cryer!”
She flung the covers back and tried to sit up, but dizziness struck her hard. Naturally, Cryer caught her, and Olivia, half-leaning against his arm, chuckled lightly and said,
“You’re back?”
It was the kind of greeting that slipped out effortlessly. The kind someone says when a loved one returns home. Perhaps it was because they had become so used to being together, it no longer felt strange. Olivia had come to see his return as a given. And in the next moment, Cryer’s face flashed with an unreadable expression before gradually softening.
Tilting her head, Olivia then furrowed her brow sharply.
“Cryer? Did that crazy mage’s daughter—or wait, she’s a mage too—did that lunatic do something to you?”
Her piercing blue eyes, which boldly uttered words no imperial princess should, were filled with nothing but Cryer.
“I just told you to come back! I should’ve yanked her by the hair for acting so smug!”
As Olivia grumbled, Cryer’s quiet, slightly hoarse voice trickled into her ears.
“I’m… back.”
