Chapter 39
Cartarch’s face turned pale with shock.
Seeing the clear, bead-like tears roll down Argana’s eyes, Cartarch instinctively wrapped his arms around her without thinking.
“Wihwi, what’s wrong? Why are you crying all of a sudden?”
Argana didn’t answer. She only clutched his collar tightly, swallowing back her sobs.
“Wihwi…”
“…I don’t know. The tears just came.”
Argana whispered softly, forcing a smile onto her trembling lips.
Even she was startled by the sudden tears. She hadn’t planned to cry. Not at all.
Yet the moment she heard Cartarch’s voice, her heart tightened uncontrollably, and she burst into tears.
No one knew she was still haunted by nightmares. Not even her closest attendant, the perceptive Bartazo, had noticed.
Even if she fell into a peaceful sleep, she would wake up to find herself still trapped in dreams.
On those cold, dark nights when the icy wind swirled, she relived the time she had clung to her father’s already cold body, sobbing silently, alone.
“Who do I go to when I’m sad and lonely now?”
She would repeat the words she had muttered alone in front of the hall, over and over, desperately pondering how to bring her father back…
Even knowing it was a futile hope, she couldn’t bear the pain without entertaining that thought.
People whispered about her for never shedding a tear, but they didn’t understand that her heart was quietly breaking inside.
What is the greatest sorrow in life? It is losing the parents who gave you life.
Argana had lost her mother at a young age and now had lost her father. How could she remain calm?
The immense pain she had endured before fully processing her grief repeated every night at her pillow.
Suppressing her sorrow to avoid showing it, Argana had grown unusually exhausted.
There were times she wanted to speak to someone, but she hated feeling weak. Even toward Cartarch.
Yet Cartarch had been the first to touch the part of her that hurt.
“…It’s okay now.”
Argana, having finally stopped crying, turned her head slightly, pushing him away with a shy determination.
Still, the sadness and loneliness lingered in her hand, and Cartarch couldn’t easily let go.
“…Wihwi.”
Argana, sniffling, rubbed her reddened eyes and looked at Cartarch.
“Why did you call me?”
“I know you’re stronger than anyone else.”
“….”
“But strong people have it harder. They can’t show weakness in front of anyone.”
“I don’t have any weaknesses.”
Cartarch chuckled softly at her stubborn, pouty reply.
Holding her hand, he caressed it naturally. It wasn’t unusual; he had done it since she was a child. Yet today, he found her hand unusually small.
“That’s right. My Wihwi doesn’t grow any weaknesses.”
“Who’s your Wihwi?”
“Alright, alright. ‘My friend’ Wihwi.”
Argana giggled.
“You’re so annoying.”
“Listen. You really are someone without weaknesses. And no one would forgive anyone who sees you that way. I admire your strength, but no matter how strong, no one can be entirely without weak points as a human.”
“Yes, Master.”
“So if there’s something too hard for you to handle alone, I hope you’ll tell me…”
Cartarch trailed off mid-sentence, giving her hand a faint squeeze with a smile.
“That’s all I’m saying.”
“You treat me like a child sometimes! My birthday’s even earlier than yours!”
“Just two months difference.”
“Two months and nineteen days! Do you know how much a newborn grows in that time?”
“Fine, fine. You’re my older sister and brother. You do everything.”
Argana, with a playful smile, shrugged her shoulders and picked up a small peanut snack, popping it into Cartarch’s mouth.
Cartarch glanced at her sideways, resting his elbow on the table and chin on his hand.
“Come to think of it, it’s been a long time since you cried in front of me. The last time must have been before you were ten. Eight years old, maybe?”
“Seven.”
“Do you remember?”
“I do. I lost in training….”
Argana paused, making a small exasperated sound, and popped a snack into her mouth.
Cartarch said,
“Yes. You lost to Prince Ishuder and cried out of frustration. You cried almost two hours straight. Do you remember that?”
“At that time….”
The small snack crumbled between her fingers, scattering crumbs onto the plate. She stared at the powder and then shook her hands free, letting her shoulders slump.
“I was really frustrated then. It was less than a year since my older brother passed away.”
“Ah… I see. That was it.”
Argana nodded and sighed.
“But at the court….”
At that time, Argana had an older brother, Tardaga.
Born from her mother Ayulwiran and Khan Astrahan, Tardaga was the firstborn and heir to the throne.
Khan loved and cherished Tardaga as much as he loved Argana now.
Tardaga, meeting his parents’ expectations, grew up to be a bright and capable young man.
But he never reached his sixteenth birthday, dying on the battlefield.
Ayulwiran could not let go of her son’s coffin for a long time, and the Khan grieved like never before, avoiding court officials for four days.
Before that grief could fade, another blow struck Ayulwiran’s heart.
The hidden faction of Empress Marata II spread rumors claiming that Prince Ishuder should be enthroned as the crown prince.
“So I wanted to crush that idea, just to show them.”
“You did crush it a few times after that.”
“Yes. That defeat was the first and last time I lost.”
A fire ignited in Argana’s golden eyes.
“This time, he stood in my way again. Next time, I won’t forgive him. Then…”
Cartarch felt the boiling rage inside her and placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Calm down.”
Argana, clenching her teeth and breathing hard, flinched and looked at him.
When consumed by anger, she sometimes could think of nothing else. Her mind would go blank, and she would feel compelled to tear apart and destroy everything in front of her.
Cartarch was the only one who could stop her.
Without him, her reputation would surely have been far worse, though many would still fear her.
“I’ve wanted to ask, is that why you’ve always hated Prince Ishuder so intensely?”
“….”
“You’re not that bad with the other princes. But with Ishuder, you’ve hated him since childhood. Was it because of that rumor?”
“That’s part of it.”
“Any other reasons?”
Argana moved her lips and slowly closed her eyes. Rage welled up again, but this time she controlled it herself.
She could almost hear the tapping of running footsteps. Her own footsteps.
She faced the vivid memories before her, feeling the faint sting of pain once again.
