Chapter 78
Translator: Yonnee
—
These were her following words.
“The things you mentioned just now, there’s too many responsibilities tied to them. It’s also dangerous, as is the case for such a high position.”
Ophelia further explained that if one had power, they would be able to live more freely, but this also meant that they could suddenly fall to ruin as well.
Power was something that could never be grasped forever—the higher the position someone had, the narrower their field of view would be.
Considering how, at the end of their lives, men of power would usually come to the realization that they’ve lost sight of what’s important, this statement wasn’t all too shocking for Alei.
“I know myself very well. I’m someone who is truly, very greedy.”
“That’s surprising to hear.”
Alei thought that Ophelia was the most unavaricious person there was. When he expressed his shock, Ophelia just smiled.
“If I wasn’t greedy, I wouldn’t have kept you close, you know.”
There was nothing she wanted on this land, and that meant that she truly did not feel any greed.
Now that Alei thought of it, that’s probably what her smile meant.
At least, what Ophelia wanted was not on this land. Neither was it a tangible thing.
“I once wanted that, too. At the end of the day, I am an imperial princess. I’ve always been surrounded by splendor.”
She once wished for wealth, honor and power. So that no one would be able to look down on her.
She believed that these things would make her free—that they would make her happy.
But reality was different, she said.
“Emotions change, people change. No amount of jewelry, not even the highest of titles would be able to set me free.”
It was a life bound by shackles.
In the future that was the product of her preoccupation of greed, Ophelia already saw how it would all end.
So, she said, she had become so tired of everything. The title of an imperial princess, for one. All these emotions, for another.
“So at first, I wanted to die. But you know how that turned out.”
“Am I to blame?”
“Rather than to blame, I am indebted to you.”
Ophelia smiled as she said this. This woman, who always seemed to burn like a flame, seemed—at least for a moment—like a vast, tranquil body of water with not a hint of a wind blowing by.
Right, like the ocean.
No matter how hard you’d look at the ocean, it was difficult to tell what’s inside. Apart from that, there was always a storm brewing, and you wouldn’t know what had caused it. She was like that.
With the night becoming entirely swallowed by darkness with nothing else that could be seen, moonlight would scatter, and finally, in the end, a beautiful sound would be evoked. She was like that.
Containing both the red of the sunset and the blue of the midday sky, anyone’s eyes would inevitably gravitate towards this sight.
This was the wish of Ophelia, who considered herself to be very greedy. Unlike what she claimed, she wished for simple things.
For all her choices to be made by her own will.
For no gaze to pose a threat to her.
For her to be free.
Even when she was given the chance to have the entire continent at the palm of her hand, anyone would wonder who exactly would covet only this.
Indeed, who else but Ophelia.
“Alei, a bird in a cage would not want freedom. Once it becomes accustomed to its shackles, it will feel more empty without them.”
Freedom was an endeavor more empty than one would think. If you were to fall alone from the sky, you’re bound to feel terrified.
This fear was something that could never be understood by someone who was not afraid of the sky—not afraid of freedom. Like a siren perhaps.
“Alei, I want to be free. I don’t want to be afraid of it. I tried to imagine being able to seize that freedom, and when I thought about it again, I don’t think I’ve ever felt afraid of it while I’m with you.”
So, Ophelia continued, she thought that she should go to the tower.
There really was no reason to stay here. It would be even more difficult to go back to that life when there was already a clear, simple path right in front of her.
How on earth could she say such a thing, was something he wondered. But now, Alei understood Ophelia completely.
That was to say, the magic tower was her chance at freedom.
Ophelia also knew that, when she’d enter the tower, it might be different from what she had imagined. Even so, she already decided that it would be worth it.
Why? Well, because Alei would be in the tower.
The one who could free Ophelia—the one who could make her fears go away.
This blind faith and goodwill made him speechless. All the worries he had before this felt futile.
That was all it was about.
Unlike him, who wanted to escape somehow, Ophelia was someone who upheld her place.
How could he ever turn a blind eye to Ophelia’s fears?
Even after he had regained his memories later, even after the moment of terrible regret would return.
Though frightened, he couldn’t run away.
Every moment Alei had been avoiding Ophelia, he felt shameful for it. He felt it even more distinctly when he had faced Ian.
So, Alei went back to Ophelia.
I’ve been keeping my distance from you. I’m sorry.
I tried to bring myself to confess that I’m afraid you’ll abandon me.
I wanted to ask you what transgressions against you I had committed in the past—is that why I always feel guilty in front of you?
And while he was now at Ophelia’s door, raising his hand to knock after such great difficulty,
“…I have a guest right now. Come back later.”
He was answered with rejection.
It was understandable that she had to prioritize a guest who had come first before him, but at that moment, why did he feel so devastated?
Perhaps it’s because the voice beyond the door sounded as if he was not welcomed at all.
As if she wasn’t comfortable with him, as if it was to the point that she felt awkward that he visited her.
Grimacing, Alei leaned the middle of his forehead against the door. The urge not to let go of the doorknob was exceptionally strong.
“…Do I have to wait long?”
“It looks like it will take a while. Let’s meet after sunset.”
It would be several hours until the sun would go down.
However, he did not dare complain. Though he could not agree verbally, Alei took a step back from the door.
To the tip of his ears, his entire face was red, and he looked like he was about to cry. No one was there to see him, but he raised his arm to try and cover his face.
He was ashamed.
Naturally, he felt ashamed for expecting that Ophelia would accept him.
He acutely felt his determination shatter. His heart, which had plummeted that much, was now lodged inside his throat.
All of the disappointment he felt now revealed the depth of his feelings.
Just how deep and heavy it was, just how dark it was.
The most terrible thing here was the realization that he could no longer deny what to name this black heart of his.
People think that such deep emotions emerge from dramatic moments in one’s life, but reality reflected a poorer experience than one would expect.
Just as naturally as you would realize that the sun had set, as the moon had risen, and as a gust of wind would come in. Just as normally as you would notice that drops of ink might splatter when you write.
Much more so would the realization be apparent when one would be denied entrance to a room that once had been free for him to come and go into.
Why was it that, during the lowest moment of one’s life, the thing you’d yearn for the most was love?
‘I didn’t want to realize it in this way.’
Didn’t want to start it in this way…
Alei covered his face with both hands.
This feeling of being so insignificantly small. It was too much to bear.
* * *
Tak.
Velran closed the door and left Ophelia’s office.
His cold, tranquil expression was filled with doubts that he could not put into words.
‘Still, it’s suspicious.’
That time when someone knocked on the door and briefly talked to Ophelia a while ago.
She could have just opened the door and talked that person face to face for a second, but instead, Ophelia kept the door closed and sent that person back.
—Who was standing outside? I don’t mind, so you could have let that person in.
—No, it wouldn’t have been polite of me to let someone else in when there’s already a guest inside. I’ve already sent that person back.
Ophelia turned her back against the door and said this. After she had just spoken to Alei, her stiff voice now was so distinctly different from then.
Velran had just given her a blatant warning, so it’s no wonder why she was being vigilant.
Shaking his head lightly, Velran stood up.
—In any case, my business here is over. If Your Highness will allow me, I’ll be off now to go back to the temporary temple and rest for the day.
—Is that so? I didn’t think that was the case.
Ophelia replied in this way, as if she truly didn’t quite realize. Even so, it still seemed as if she had no qualms sending her guest out.
—You must have had a hard time on your way here, so of course, you may leave.
What’s worse was that, even as soon as she uttered those words, she quickly dropped formalities towards Velran.
Like a person who was hiding something.
‘I should have interrogated her more.’
If this was another time, he could have done so without any difficulties. But this time, he couldn’t.
There was one simple reason.