TNLA 49

Chapter 49

“Azen, I… I did what I wanted to do.”
She spoke in a thin, trembling voice, slowly closing her eyes and then opening them again.

On that summer night, wanting to buy time to save the man who was hovering between life and death, she had run without rest with that single thought in her mind. She hoped that, by doing so, he would come to his senses, elude the pursuit, cross the border—she wished for that…

“I wanted to save you. That was what I truly wanted…”

“Then I want to save you too, and you want to save me, so if we both survive, that’s enough, right?”
He forced a smile and looked at her. The hand that had been gently holding hers shifted and slipped between her fingers.

“Please tell me what you really want. Do you want to leave here, or do you want to stay? If you want to leave, I will take you; if you want to stay, I will stay as well. So please tell me, from your heart, what you want.”

His callused hand closed warmly around hers.

“…Last summer we already tried to run away together. And back then you…”
She remembered the forest they had crossed together the previous summer.

The endless chase, her own clumsy hiding, and his image—alone, soaked in blood, finally drifting at the edge of life…

Back then at least his legs had been fine.

But now, with a body that couldn’t walk even a few steps alone, was it even possible to escape?

“Back then we were ambushed and had no time to prepare, and the capital was entirely their territory. But Shuel is our territory, and this time we’ll prepare properly and leave safely. I’ll take care of everything: you just need to tell me the secret passage and keep yourself healthy.”

“But, Azen, actually my legs… it’s not temporary. I can’t walk.”

“You won’t have to walk—I’ve prepared a way for you to be taken somewhere safely. Both you and I will go, absolutely safely. I won’t do anything dangerous. And about those legs…”
Azen looked again toward her ankle as he continued.

“If you receive proper treatment you’ll be much better than you are now. And with crutches you could move around freely on your own. I will make sure of it. Freedom—truly.”

“…”

“You wanted to be surrounded by the people you love, to close your eyes with a happy smile.”
He looked up at her while still holding her hand warmly.

“Please, let me be the one to close your eyes.”

His eyes trembled too. He looked at her with desperate earnestness.

“Please, Arlene…”

She closed her eyes.

Even though she thought it wrong, she kept wanting to hold that warm hand. She heard a voice calling her to take his hand—please, take it—and he was waiting.

If she closed her eyes for a moment, feigned reluctance, and took a single step toward him, would that be allowed?

“Together…”

Could she really dare to want to live a life together?

The capital belonged to Kashien.

But Shuel was my territory.

Azen thought this way.

While she was being held in the capital, it was difficult even to approach nearby. From the start, getting a single step inside the city gates was a huge obstacle.

Because he had spent his childhood drifting around the slums, he remembered a few small access holes; but after the sewer exit they had used during last year’s escape was discovered, it seemed like every possible crack for getting in and out of the castle had been heavily guarded.

After barely infiltrating the capital, he was speechless at the horrifying sight.

He faced the mutilated corpses of the people he had spent ten years with—the people she had loved, the people who had cared for and raised him. The people that his former self, ‘Kashien’, had killed without hesitation and left to rot.

He prayed that the woman who had been dragged into the capital had not seen these scenes. She had been taken straight to the duke’s residence and had never gone outside—perhaps she hadn’t seen them. He felt some relief at that possibility.

Because there could be no trail left for that monster to follow, they hadn’t even been able to collect the bodies. He could only grit his teeth and watch as his benefactors and comrades rotted, picked at by crows and insects, and at last were dumped onto the plains and burned.

Rumors ran rampant through the capital.

The atmosphere in the city had turned grim; people whispered about the noble families who’d been wiped out in the square, and about those noble houses suddenly rising to the center of power. Quiet murmurs spread about the duke’s curse that had once brought blood to Barun, the tale from twenty years ago.

Among those rumors, there were many about the woman the newly dominant Duke Requies had brought with him.

Ignorant, romantically twisted gossip was somewhat tolerable. But when filthy, disgusting slanders and obscene rumors reached his ears, he felt an unbearable impulse to cut out every filthy mouth on the spot.

He trembled, restraining the urge to kill them all; with shaking hands, he wanted to tear out the ears that had heard those filthy words.

The duke’s residence—the very place he’d come to the capital for—was not easy to approach.

The coup had only just ended and the bloodshed was not yet fully finished. The duke’s mansion, which had been at the core of the countercoup and had become a symbol of martial power and of many enemies, was guarded more strictly than the royal palace.

Worse, even though he had lived there for several years, had mapped it thoroughly, and had personally organized its guards, he could not picture its structure at all.

It was ridiculous. That he could remember nothing about the duke’s mansion he had once lived in.

He felt déjà vu. Even when he had fought desperately to stop Duke Requies’ countercoup—an event so huge he could never forget—the memories were so faint they yielded no useful information.

Why were memories from his past life so selective? Always to his disadvantage.

If a god had planned this cursed reincarnation, that damned god seemed not to wish to help him.

‘Fine—understandable that the god wouldn’t want to help a bastard like me… but why her? What sin has she committed?’

Accepting that he might never see a single lock of her hair while she remained in the capital, and acknowledging the low chance of getting her out alive even if he did see her, he finally realized: his only opportunity would come when they returned to Shuel.

If his past-life memories gave him no help, he would have to rely on the experience of his present life.

There was one thing his past-life memories had helped with: he knew they would come down to Shuel before winter.

And he knew, roughly, what condition she might be in by the time they returned—enough to prepare in advance.

Shuel was his domain. He had lived there daily for ten years—patrolling and exploring it. Knights had to know the layout both inside and outside the castle, and after becoming her escort knight he had been taught a few additional escape routes.

He could draw the structures of Shuel’s inner and outer walls with his eyes closed; he knew the nearby geography well and had many contacts who could help.

And in Shuel there were many people who owed favors to his precious lady, and many who held grudges against the Requies family. The Requies had slaughtered people inside the inner castle, and the families left behind nursed their hatred while still living in Shuel.

He understood why, in his previous life, that escort knight had attempted escape not from the capital but from Shuel.

Every day dragged like madness. Each day was another day of her suffering, another day closer to her death.

Still, the hope of meeting her again in winter was what kept him going.

He prepared day after day. Waiting for the day he would see her again—perfect and thorough preparation.

Even if that damned god wasn’t on his side, he would make sure to win.

As spring deepened and summer slowly approached, a rebellion broke out in the west.

Kashien frankly thought it was just the flailing of small fry and that he didn’t need to go personally. But Crown Prince Juhead wanted him to go personally and crush it to set an example.

“You won’t have to go every time. But this time, you should stomp them out overwhelmingly to prevent future uprisings. You’re the right one for it.”

“Sigh…”
He sat up on the bed, raking his short bangs back with his hand and frowning. He would have to leave soon.

Juhead was annoying. If someone handed him a crown, they should be able to keep it themselves. How long would he be bothered by petty things and call him off to deal with them?

Because this was a mission to suppress a rebellion, he had to bring many knights and troops—unlike a light trip to the capital. Of course he would still leave some behind at Shuel, but not as many as he would have liked.

He checked the itinerary in his head and then looked down at the woman sleeping beside him as if dead.