CHAPTER 129
Arabelle grabbed Tristiny’s hand and hurried towards the bedroom.
After making sure no one else followed them, she closed the bedroom door.
The two cousins sat on the bed, facing each other.
“What do you mean by that? How can you say that my mother—no, my aunt—is still alive...?”
Arabelle's voice trembled slightly.
When Tristiny had revealed the truth about their switched destinies, she had said, *“Mother has passed away. She was coming to Laicanoer to find Aunt Elenia and me, but the ship she was on met with a storm, and...,”* and had shed tears.
They had cried together, embracing each other.
But now, to hear that she was still alive... Arabelle’s eyes, which had been wide with shock, now sparkled with joy.
Kisha was not just an aunt. To Arabelle, she was the beloved mother who had raised and cared for her since she was a baby.
Jonathan had mistreated and despised young Arabelle, who had not shown any signs of healing powers.
It was as if he blamed all his failures on her, venting his anger on his helpless, gentle daughter.
Unlike his other two daughters, who were quick to sense danger and either flee or resist, his middle daughter seemed an easy target.
Unable to accept himself as a man, a father, or a husband, Jonathan transferred all his responsibilities onto Arabelle.
The more pathetic a person is, the more they target those weaker than themselves.
By blaming his failures on her, he could deny his own shortcomings.
*“If only you had been born with healing powers, we could have combined the powers of all four of us and enjoyed immense wealth and power! It’s all your fault. The reason we’re living so miserably is because of you!”*
Jonathan possessed healing powers barely stronger than a fingernail, and Arabelle's sisters had such weak healing abilities that it was embarrassing to even mention them.
Drowning in gambling debts and even despised by the employees of his sister’s estate, Jonathan was desperate to blame someone. That way, he didn’t have to face the reality that his failures were his own fault.
When no one was on young Arabelle’s side, her mother, Kisha, protected and cherished her.
After working all day in place of the useless Jonathan, Kisha would come home and comfort Arabelle in her arms.
She would stroke Arabelle’s hair as she silently cried in a corner.
*“Arabelle, your light is so noble and radiant that it’s invisible to those who are unworthy. One day, someone who recognizes and cherishes your light will appear. When that time comes, your light will beautifully illuminate the entire world.”*
Arabelle didn’t understand her mother’s words. How could anyone value someone as worthless as her? How could she, who was so useless, ever illuminate the world? It seemed impossible.
But she nodded in her mother’s warm embrace.
Even though she knew that Elenia was her biological mother, Kisha was the mother of her heart.
“Then why did you tell me she had died...?”
Arabelle unconsciously reached out to take Tristiny’s hand.
Tristiny subtly moved her hand behind her back so Arabelle wouldn’t notice.
Her dark brown eyes dropped to her lap.
“When I first met Your Majesty, I wasn’t confident that you would be happy to see me. I thought you might not want to hear the truth.”
“How could that be? I am so grateful that you found me, Lady Tristiny.”
Arabelle’s eyes shimmered with genuine emotion.
Tristiny’s lashes quivered slightly, casting a shadow over her cheeks.
“The reason I told you that she had died is...”
Tristiny raised her head to meet Arabelle’s gaze.
The hands hidden beneath her shawl clenched tightly.
“Because I couldn’t tell you the truth when you were on the brink of marriage. Even though my mother is alive, it’s as if she’s already dead...”
“What do you mean?”
“A witch named Vessilkia from Mount Ecol has kidnapped my mother.”
“Vessilkia... isn’t she the witch who practices black magic and is said to be hundreds of years old, with goblin blood?”
“You know of her, Your Majesty?”
Tristiny looked slightly surprised.
Arabelle nodded slightly.
Count Corald, who had been investigating the curse on the Emperor and Lumen Savior, had met with the witch Vessilkia.
It was Vessilkia who, after reading the papyrus written in the ancient language, had told Arabelle how she could save the Emperor from his curse.
She had mocked Arabelle’s fate of falling into the underworld after giving all her light to the Emperor.
Of course, in exchange, Count Corald had to give her the only red diamond in the Empire.
But Arabelle couldn’t tell Tristiny about that.
Tristiny continued speaking with sorrowful eyes.
“My mother was kidnapped by Vessilkia on the ship she was taking to Laicanoer. The witch knew my mother was Lumen Savior and wanted to use her for experiments...”
Arabelle’s wide eyes widened even more with shock.
She forced herself to stay composed, flaring her nostrils as she struggled to process the news.
“There’s no time to waste. We must inform His Majesty the Emperor and ask for his help.”
Arabelle stood up quickly, but Tristiny grabbed her wrist.
Then, Tristiny gently released her hold and stepped in front of Arabelle to block her path.
“No, we can’t. It would only put my mother in even more danger!”
“More danger? What do you mean?”
“Vessilkia told me that if I informed anyone else or sought help, I would never see my mother again.”
Tristiny slowly rolled up her long sleeve.
She showed Arabelle a long scar on her wrist.
“This is a mark that connects me to Vessilkia. She watches my every move. This scar was caused by the witch when I went searching for your mother and mine. Before, I told you that your mother passed away from illness...”
“Then... Are you saying my mother was killed by Vessilkia...?”
Arabelle’s voice faltered as she struggled to speak.
Her entire body trembled uncontrollably at the unexpected revelation.
Tristiny’s head bowed, nodding weakly.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth when you were so happy and smiling.”
“And I... I was so carefree, preparing for the wedding... Hah, hah...”
Arabelle buried her face in her hands, overcome with guilt.
For a moment, the sound of quiet sobbing filled the room.
Two slender arms wrapped around Tristini’s shoulders, which were trembling for a different reason.
“How much pain have you been carrying alone, Lady Tristine... You’ve been suppressing your sorrow just to protect my happiness, all while worrying about my mother... sob, sob…”
Arabelle’s warm words of comfort brought tears spilling from Tristini’s eyes. The embrace of the smaller, more delicate Arabelle felt wider and more comforting than Bergen’s.
“Now, let’s share your worries with me. I will be your strength. I’ll find a way to save Aunt Kisha.”
Tristini wanted nothing more than to cry in this endlessly warm embrace and pour out everything. But that desire lasted only a moment until she saw the ugly scar beneath her rolled-up sleeve.
She bit her lip hard and gently pushed herself away from Arabelle, wiping her tears.
“There is a way to save my mother. Besilcia contacted me.”
“H-how…?”
“I mentioned before that I can understand the language of certain animals, though not all. Besilcia sent her raven to me.”
“What does the witch want?”
Arabelle asked urgently. Tristini looked her straight in the eye with a cloudy gaze.
“The witch wants... the blood of the Lumen Savior. To extend her life, she needs five drops of Lumen Savior blood. But she knows that neither my mother nor I are perfect Lumen Saviors…”
Arabelle’s voice came from above Tristini’s lowered head.
“So the witch wants my blood.”
“She promised to return my mother if I give it to her. She even provided some of her hair as collateral.”
It wasn’t uncommon for a witch’s hair to be used as collateral. If a witch broke her promise, burning the hair would cause her immense pain, as if she were being burned alive.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, for asking you to take on such a great burden. But...”
Tristini’s voice broke off as she began to cry again. Thin arms wrapped around Tristini’s neck, holding her tightly.
A voice rang out, firm and without hesitation, near her ear.
“Don’t worry. I will help you. We will bring Aunt Kisha back.”
***
At the palace of the King of Lycanor.
Tristini returned to her chambers, having secured Arabelle’s promise.
Bergen was waiting for her in her room.
His eyes gleamed with delight when he saw her pale smile.
“You did it.”
Tristini nodded without meeting his eyes.
“We are to meet tonight at midnight in the cherry tree grove behind the old palace.”
It was a location Arabelle had chosen.
The blood had to be dropped onto the raven’s wings sent by the witch. Outdoors, under the night sky, rather than indoors.
'The old palace, where I was once a candidate, is used by no one but me. During the day, the soldiers are with me, but at night, since I don’t go, there are only a few guards,' Arabelle had explained.
Listening to her, Bergen found the unbearable headache he’d been suffering more tolerable. Soon, Arabelle would be his. Not only would she take away his headache, but she would also take on the curse, a true Lumen Savior.
Bergen, who had been sitting comfortably on the bed, rose to his feet. He slowly approached Tristini, who was standing by the door.
His smile, once dazzling and enchanting, spread across his face as he looked at her.
Had the naive young ladies, like the granddaughter of King Ator, seen this smile, their hearts would have fluttered, their faces flushed. But now, Tristini felt nothing. In fact, she found his affectionate expression, mannerisms, and even his hand gestures revolting.
Suddenly, it was as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes. His fake expressions, his tone of voice, his every gesture—they all filled her with disgust.
She thought of how, not long ago, she had longed for affection from him, even after he’d grown cold. The thought made her bite the inside of her cheek in shame.
A long shadow fell over Tristini’s head. Bergen’s large hand brushed against her thin cheek.
In the past, she would have rubbed her cheek against it like a compliant cat.
But now, the mere thought of it made her want to gag.
After meeting Maxwell, she realized that Bergen was nothing but a cheap imitation of the real thing.
Tristini took a step back and turned her head away from his touch.
“Hmph.”
Bergen scoffed as he withdrew his hand, a corner of his mouth curling upward.
“Now that it’s time to change masters, you don’t want to be touched by me? Afraid your sharp new master will suspect something? I’m surprised. You’re more cunning than I thought.”
“I only had one teacher.”
Tristini met his gaze head-on and replied.
“If you had shown this much spirit from the start, I might have kept you around a little longer, just for fun.”
Bergen ran his thumb slowly over his lips as if lamenting the loss.
He leaned in close, his lips almost touching her ear as he whispered.
“Now you’ll have to be even more careful to avoid suspicion. Don’t forget to act surprised when you hear the news tomorrow morning.”
***
Late at night, as midnight approached.
The magnolia design on the edge of the mantlepiece in the Empress’s chamber rotated.
Click.
A door opened behind the elegant tapestry hanging next to the fireplace.
A secret door is known only to the Emperor and the Empress.
The hand resting on the magnolia design was withdrawn, and a corner of the velvet tapestry was lifted.
A small figure, hooded and cloaked, stepped through the opening behind the tapestry.
As the figure disappeared behind the tapestry,
Click.
The door closed quietly.
There was no one in sight in the Empress’s chamber.
***
As dawn approached.
“Her Majesty, the Empress, has disappeared!”
Vera’s urgent voice woke the sleeping Emperor.
Comments
Post a Comment