Chapter 65
“W-what just—”
The girl, who had been shoving logs into the fire, widened her eyes and stared at the suddenly appearing Julian.
“There was definitely a cat here, wasn’t there? Who on earth are you?”
Julian frowned.
He wanted to answer, but his throat felt parched, and he couldn’t get a word out.
The girl stared at him for a moment, then hurriedly opened her backpack and brought out some water.
She placed Julian’s head on her lap and let water flow into his mouth.
Julian gulped down the life-giving liquid as it slid down his throat.
“You must be hurt, just like that cat. But I’m trapped here too, so I can’t get a doctor right now. Don’t worry—my father will come to rescue us soon.”
As water moistened his dry throat, his mind began to clear.
Julian looked around with his blurred, returning vision.
The entrance of this cave-like place was firmly blocked by rocks, as if there had been a landslide.
Julian slowly turned his gaze to the girl.
Her golden hair, warmer than the firelight, was tied back tightly.
Julian struggled to speak.
“Y-you… you…”
“N-no, don’t say anything. My goodness, why is your body so cold?”
The girl lay down next to him and, without hesitation, hugged him.
Her plump cheeks were glowing, and she was about a head taller than him.
Having been away from home for so long, Julian had grown thinner than usual, and he sank into her embrace.
He could hear the steady beat of her heart.
The warmth she gave him was the warmest he had ever felt.
A tear slid from his eye as if the frozen ice within him was melting.
Seeing his tear, the girl comforted him.
“Don’t worry. The people of this village follow the Kadir faith. They never turn away someone they rescue. So someone will definitely come for us.”
Her blue eyes, bright with intelligence, spoke words beyond her years.
Yet fear still lingered in her; she trembled in Julian’s arms.
Julian quietly watched her shivering shoulders.
Just as she comforted him, he wanted to soothe her in return.
But his eyelids were unbearably heavy.
Gradually, Julian drifted into sleep.
And when he opened his eyes:
“Your Grace! Oh my goodness, you’ve regained consciousness!”
‘Ah…’
Julian stared blankly at the ceiling fresco of cherubic angels playing. His head throbbed.
‘It was just a dream.’
He sat up.
His throat was still dry, as in the dream.
“Water…”
“Here you go!”
A servant quickly handed him a cup of water.
As Julian drank, the bedroom door burst open roughly.
“Your Grace!”
Croa rushed in upon hearing the news that Julian had woken up.
She moved her lips as if about to scold him at length.
Julian groaned and waved his hand.
“Quiet. My head is pounding, and I can’t think straight.”
He let out a single groan and lay back on the soft pillow.
But soon he noticed Croa’s face, silent yet on the verge of tears.
Sighing, Julian spoke irritably.
“Alright, fine. Speak. No crying. Just get to the point.”
“Your Grace! I really thought you were going to die! You’ve never been this sick before.”
“I was sick?”
“Yes. That day you came in soaked from the rain and lay ill for a whole week. Luckily, it was just a cold and not your heart condition. I really thought that… you might not make it.”
“What? A whole week?”
Julian flung the blanket aside and sat up hastily.
His startled eyes stared blankly at Croa.
“And Rebecca? No word from her all this time?”
“Ah, one letter did come.”
“When?”
“A week ago.”
“So she must have known I couldn’t reply?”
“Huh? I wouldn’t dare send a reply on my own—you know what kind of scolding I’d get from you.”
“So you didn’t say a word?”
“Uhm… yes, that’s right. I actually forgot about the letter while nursing you. I’m sorry.”
“What…?”
Julian grabbed his head.
Not only had he kissed her and foolishly run away, but he had also failed to reply for an entire week. He’d become a coward.
“Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!”
He slammed his fist onto the pillow, making a dull thud echo through the room.
Croa swallowed hard, feeling as if the destroyed pillow represented herself.
“Sh-should I send a reply now?”
Croa looked up cautiously at Julian.
He thought about hitting her but stopped.
He knew all too well how irrational she became when he was ill.
As a child, Croa fussed over his health so much that even a minor paper cut would have her bandaged for a month.
After a week of him lying sick, her lifespan must have been halved.
Julian examined her face carefully and clicked his tongue.
“Enough. I’m fine now, so you should rest. You look a mess.”
“Oh, really?”
Croa awkwardly touched her rough chin.
Now that she thought about it, when was the last time she had properly washed? Sniffing herself, she grimaced.
“Oh dear, the smell is awful. I’ll take a bath first.”
“Good. Prepare my bathwater too.”
“Yes.”
“Bring the letter from Rebecca as well.”
“Ah! Yes? Oh, of course! I understand.”
Croa reluctantly nodded, her face full of dismay.
As he left, his expression was pale.
‘Where did I put that letter…?’
Croa racked her brain.
If she failed to fetch the letter, she might end up as frustrated as the pillow earlier.
Once Croa and the servants left, Julian got out of bed.
After lying down for a week, his whole body ached.
He drew back the curtains.
The summer garden of the ducal estate shone brilliantly.
Beyond it, birds chirped cheerfully in the forest.
Julian gazed blankly at the scene and thought about the dream he had just had.
It had been a long time since he had dreamed.
As a child, unable to bear his dreadful fate, he had once run away from home.
At first, it was fine—he even enjoyed the sense of adventure.
But when he saw Leo following him, despair struck.
Leo’s vacant eyes seemed to mock him, as if asking, “Do you really think you can escape God’s grasp?”
Julian spat all the curses a boy of eight could muster at Leo.
‘I wish you were dead!’
He remembered clearly the words he had shouted.
Now he could have cursed even harsher, but back then, that was all he could manage.
Feeling a flush of embarrassment, he rubbed his forehead.
Leo, quietly listening to Julian’s curses, slipped away while Julian was out of breath.
That night, after Leo disappeared, Julian fell gravely ill in a shabby inn of an unknown village.
Severe pain, enough to make his young self sense death, overcame him.
The girl from his dream saved him then.
Even after meeting her in the cave, Julian had swapped bodies with Leo several times.
It seemed to happen whenever his life was in danger.
The puzzling part was why he, and not his father, was linked to the person he swapped with.
When an heir was born, both the heir and Duke Johannes were simultaneously connected to Leo.
But the young heir’s divine power was still weak, so the connection was incomplete.
It was only when Julian turned ten that he could communicate with Leo.
Julian thought of the nameless girl.
The girl who nursed him silently, even after multiple body swaps with the cat.
Though he barely remembered her face, her warmth remained vivid in his memory.
Once he woke up in the inn, the body swaps ended.
Ducal servants immediately arrived and took Julian away.
Since then, he had tirelessly searched for the girl who saved him.
He scoured the empire for news of the landslide and the missing girl but found nothing.
She had vanished like a mirage.
When Julian could finally speak with Leo, he asked about that day.
But Leo always replied that he didn’t know.
Julian sensed that Leo was hiding something, but he didn’t press.
Even recalling that day seemed to cause Leo great pain.
“Julian. Are you feeling better now?”
A sudden voice called him, and he turned.
Leo was approaching slowly.
Julian didn’t mention the dream.
Everyone has memories they’d rather bury, even a messenger of God.
Instead, he smiled gently and sat to meet Leo’s eye level.
“I’m fine. You know I’m not going to die anyway.”
Leo blinked, his eyes conveying unspoken words.
For a moment, the shadow of resignation he had always seen in Duke Johannes crossed Julian’s face.
It was the sight Leo hated most.
Bang—bang—bang—
The serene shooting range of the ducal estate was suddenly filled with sharp gunfire.
Every bullet Julian fired missed the target.
“Damn it!”
He shoved a new bullet into the gun and lifted the rifle again.
Croa stepped in front of him.
Julian growled.
“Step aside. Before I fire.”
“Stop! Someone could really get hurt! Even the cat might get hit!”
Julian flinched at the mention of the cat and looked around.
A few cats had gathered around him, almost as if watching his humiliation.
Julian exhaled and handed the rifle to Croa.
“You just got up from bed. You’ll hurt yourself if you keep this up.”
A few days ago, during an unprecedented downpour, Julian had returned to the estate soaked and bareheaded.
No matter how Croa asked, he said nothing, his lips sealed tight.
All that could be heard from inside was the violent kicking of the blankets.
