Chapter 8
Edith stared through the narrow opening of the wooden window, watching the fading red light outside. Sitting still made time feel unbearably slow.
She opened and closed the secret passage several times, the entrance Baron had shown her. Just sitting and waiting made her chest tighten.
Why hasn’t there been any news yet?
What if they were discovered along the way?
Please… come back safely…
As Edith paced anxiously, she suddenly heard the Baron’s voice.
“Your Highness, it’s Rowan.”
She jumped up and opened the door to find the Baron and Karl standing there, their expressions grave.
“You must prepare to leave the castle immediately.”
“What happened?”
Seeing their hesitation, Edith’s face went pale.
“I’ve only heard bits of it myself. It’s best that Your Highness sees it firsthand,” the Baron replied.
“Then let’s go at once.”
The Baron reopened the door to the secret passage Edith had just closed. The three of them passed through the corridor, wading through water that lapped at their ankles. By the time they emerged, the sun had already disappeared. Darkness pressed in, and Edith felt her heart grow heavier with each step.
Suddenly, a knight appeared to meet them.
“My apologies. We could not move any further safely.”
Despite knowing the full situation, the knight, who had been working tirelessly, did not ask Edith or Karl a single question.
“Where have you brought him?”
“To the communal warehouse in the fallow village.”
“Good. I assume no one has seen him?”
“Yes. We thoroughly searched the surrounding area.”
Knights guarded the entrance to the communal warehouse. Edith stepped inside cautiously. At the sound of movement, someone turned to look at her from within.
“Lucas!”
Edith approached. Lucas only moved his lips before dropping to his knees. Behind him, Ian lay covered with a blanket.
Ian’s face was deathly pale, his lips parched and white.
“O-brother!”
Edith sank beside him. His condition was severe at first glance. Even the clothes and blanket couldn’t fully cover the bluish discoloration of his skin.
“Edith… I’m glad you’re safe.”
Even in shallow breaths, Ian managed to whisper her name, barely able to open his eyes or pronounce it clearly.
When Ian shifted slightly, a necrotic wound revealed itself beneath the cloth covering his shoulder. It hardly looked like human skin. Edith’s jaw trembled.
Tears she could no longer hold back streamed down as she spoke.
“Where’s the doctor? You said the physician was sent.”
A cautious, older man by the bedside answered in a sharp tone.
“The arrow wound was too severe… by the time we arrived… it was already… too late.”
“No! He hasn’t even properly been treated yet! My brother is the Crown Prince of this country. And you’re just giving up?”
Edith’s insistence went unanswered, the doctor bowing his head without affirmation or denial. After a brief silence, Lucas spoke in a hoarse voice.
“Since Your Highness departed, his condition has only worsened.”
Pain seeped through his words.
“All I could do was keep him from losing consciousness.”
Lucas wiped Ian’s face with fingers stained with dried blood. The trace left on his fingertips showed he had repeatedly given his own blood to try and save Ian.
“I take full responsibility for failing to properly serve Your Highness. If you demand my life as penance, I will accept it. Even with my meager life, I will repay this debt however I can.”
Lucas’s words carried unbearable anguish, as if freshly pulled from the flames of hell, and Edith could not bring herself to blame him.
The knight who stayed with Ian was not at fault. The guilt weighed on Edith herself, for leaving Ian, for feeling relief at the comfort of a warm bed and water while he suffered.
If she had known his condition would deteriorate so quickly, she would have done whatever it took to keep him safe, even against his wishes, even in the perilous early hours. She should not have stopped, no matter what.
Every moment now was filled with regret.
“So… then… tell me honestly. I’ll do anything if there’s a way. Please…!”
“Well…”
“Speak.”
The doctor reluctantly said, “It’s unlikely he will survive through the night.”
Edith trembled violently. Her chest felt as if it were being ripped out, and darkness consumed her vision.
She wanted to scream, to lash out in rage, to roll on the floor releasing all her fury.
But at whom? No one had done wrong. Disease and death spare no one. There was no one to blame.
Tears blurred her vision, escaping as helpless sobs.
“…It’s okay, Edith. You crying… it hurts me.”
“Wh-what’s okay?! He’s… he’s like this! This isn’t okay! I… I can’t… it can’t end like this!”
No one spoke. In the heavy silence, only Edith’s wailing filled the space.
“Your Highness, can you hear me? Rowan Bart.”
The Baron approached, whispering in Ian’s ear. Ian strained his brow in response.
The doctor brought a basin with a wet cloth closer, and Edith took it hesitantly. She gently wiped Ian’s face, dabbing at tears that blurred his features.
Ian slowly lifted his eyelids.
“From the moment we received the first dispatch, we requested assistance from the allied nations so that it could be handled as soon as Your Highness arrived.”
Ian blinked slowly. The Baron continued, observing the Crown Prince.
“From Callion, the leading state, we received a positive reply. They are sending an envoy in person.”
“Who…?”
“Prince Terdian. He reached near the border last night and should arrive within three days.”
“If he comes, we can be relieved. Thank you.”
Edith struggled to keep up with the conversation, hearing details she had never known. She couldn’t comprehend how Ian could remain so composed listening to the Baron while she could barely accept the present situation.
She felt utterly useless—unable to save her family, unable to discuss the affairs of the nation. Why was she alive while Ian was dying?
She wished she could sell her soul to the devil to trade their lives. Emotions swirled violently in her chest.
“Could I… step aside? I need to speak with Edith.”
“Understood.”
The Baron dismissed the knights. Karl and Lucas reluctantly exited the warehouse, Karl wrapping an arm around Lucas, both heavy with sorrow.
The night sky, starless and dark, pressed down on them.
The warehouse, emptied of everyone else, felt like winter itself. Ian waited until all had left before speaking.
“Edith. This… may be the last time.”
“Don’t say such things. Tomorrow, we’ll seek another doctor. There might be a way, okay?”
Edith tried to deny it, but Ian shook his head faintly.
He struggled to lift his mottled hand, and Edith grabbed it immediately. She felt something solid and round—it was the Imperial Seal, even without looking.
“This… is now yours.”
“No. No, O-brother.”
Edith instinctively rejected it. Receiving the seal felt like accepting the end of everything.
“As Crown Prince… I entrust the throne to you…”
“Only the heir can inherit, don’t you know? It has to be you, O-brother.”
“If I’m gone, the succession will pass to you… whomever you choose may inherit the throne.”
Edith shook her head, hearing nothing.
“Only you.”
“I don’t know anything. I can’t do what you do. I haven’t learned, no one has taught me.”
Tears fell on their joined hands.
“I still need you. We’ve only just started returning to how things were…”
“I’ve always had… a sense for people. You were fine even without me for a long time.”
Ian seemed resigned, having accepted everything. Edith’s anger at this only grew.
“Will you keep saying such strange things? If you leave like this, I won’t forgive it. Crown Princess, noble title, none of it matters. I’ll hide away forever where no one knows!”
“If that’s truly what you want… I won’t burden you.”
Ian exhaled deeply.
“Learn kendo from Karl again… meet a good person… live normally.”
Edith immediately regretted saying that. She didn’t want to disappoint him at the very end.
“No, O-brother… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please… don’t speak further.”
“I want you to be happy. Whatever you choose… it’s your freedom… but…”
Suddenly, Ian trembled violently. Death’s shadow darkened his face. Edith held his weakening hand desperately.
“When you close your eyes, you’ll see the palace you returned to.”
Tears streamed relentlessly down Edith’s cheeks. Ian’s eyes gradually blurred.
“I love you, Edith.”
Edith’s tears fell, stubborn and relentless. Even a moment of pause might have let her speak more calmly.
She wanted to tell him how happy she had been to have him, how sorry she was for keeping distance, how grateful she was for letting her learn swordsmanship, dream, and for taking her to the hills of Shurt someday. Words she could not voice scattered as tears.
Through the choking sobs, she managed to say one sincere truth:
“I love you. I love you, O-brother.”
In Ian’s fevered vision, that hill appeared. Amidst swaying flowers, he saw Edith’s face carrying a full basket of cornflowers and poppies.
“I always wanted to see your smiling face.”
Edith tried to smile through her tears. Though her expression was twisted, unable to laugh or cry properly, Ian gave a faint smile and closed his eyes.
It was the briefest spring of his life.
