Chapter 41: Live To Sienna Pt.41
“Azrael, I think you’re making fun of me a little too much?”
“Didn’t Your Highness throw a spider into Lord Pavenik’s face the other day?”
“You also oiled Pavenik’s horseback the other day. It made me laugh so hard to see his butt sticking out and shaking for fear of falling off his horse. It’s definitely a shameful history for Pavenik to remain in his lifetime.”
“That’s when the Lord laughed out loud.”
“How can I not laugh at that? Seeing a grown man hanging from a horse and shouting for his life.”
In their response, Pavenik breathed a deep sigh as if he had given up. He knew it was useless to be angry. Ignorance was the answer. He just hoped to get to the castle of the Baroness Louise in the Bellhorse.
The castle of Baron Louise, the lord of the Bellhorse, was simple but well managed. Carl was greeted with his hospitality.
Baron Louise introduced his sons and daughters to Carl. Occasionally, local aristocrats pushed their daughters into his bedroom to carry favor with the prince, but fortunately, his daughter was only five years old. He thought he could go to bed comfortably tonight.
The baron boasted of his son’s skill in swordsmanship. Carl commended his son for having good physical conditions for catching the sword accordingly, saying, “If he trains as hard as he does now, he will surely see good results.”
The baron’s son, unlike his built-up physique, blushed at Carl’s praise and bowed his head. He thought he would put his nose on a plate if he could give it a little more praise.
Even a small aristocrat with no power needed to win their favor. He had to gather even a small amount of strength to compete with Empress Arya, who had taken over he southern aristocracy and many nobles in the capital, in comparison, to a baron who only owns a small castle.
When Carl, who had finished his meal with Baron Louise, came into the room, Azrael familiarly listened to Carl’s navy ramblings.
“Shall we prepare a bath?”
Carl nodded because he wanted to soak himself in hot water.
Azrael’s hands were icy cold. He covered them with the bathrobe while saying he had heated the water. It wasn’t that cold. Carl was bothered by the temperature of his hand.
“Be in the bathtub before the water cools down.”
He followed Azrael into the bathroom set aside by the room. The hot steam rising up from the pot hung on the fireplace for a long time. Azrael pumped the water heated with a ripper and poured it into the bathtub. He then mixed the cold and hot water moderately and put his hand in to check the water temperature.
“Lord, Prince Carl.”
Azrael’s voice calling him was somehow different from usual. He couldn’t pinpoint it. Carl thought his voice contained guilt and hesitation. He has seen him around for a long time, so he noticed the subtle difference. Sienna’s words to watch out for Azrael filled Carl’s mind with complexity.
Azrael leaned against the wall next to the bathtub and said to Carl.
“Thank you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? We’re not in a relationship to say that, are we?”
Azrael’s expression remained firm despite Carl’s reaction that he didn’t need to say thank you.
“I just wanted to say that.”
Shoot it.
The air was heavy today, and a thick stream of water fell from the sky. Azrael’s biting voice was buried in the sound of the rain.
“…”
“What?”
“Thank you, I mean it.”
“What is this nonsense all of a sudden? Do you know that? You’re the only friend I can trust, and you’re the only one I can give my heart for. If anything, I’ll thank you. You’re the only person I can trust while I have to look at the world with distrustful eyes. You’re the only person I can show myself to defenseless like this, not wearing or having any weapons equipped on me as I am now.”
Carl was sincere.
The only one whose hands he could hold in a world where no one could believe him was just him, Azrael. He had never expressed his gratitude to him.
Carl approached Azrael and tapped him on the shoulder. Azrael, who leaned over and checked the water in the bathtub once more, said.
“The water temperature is reasonable. Please enter the bathtub.”
“Yes.”
Carl pushed his leg into the bathtub. The water was lower than usual. He enjoyed a bath in the usual hot temperatures. Azrael always correctly picked up the temperature. It was not sour water but hot water.
Carl pushed himself into the bathtub without saying a word to Azrael. He instinctively identified the iron potter next to the bathtub with his eyes.
The iron grating for use in the fireplace looked hard. Enough to stop a sword. He closed his eyes and spoke in a low voice while leaning against the bathtub.
“Fifteen years? The years I spent with you.”
“Fifteen years. Has it already been so long?”
“It’s been a long time. It was enough time to give you my heart.”
Azrael did not answer Carl’s words but instead looked at him.
“Has there ever been a time I said that? What my mother’s will was?”
Carl was six years old. The change of his mother, who was smiling mildly…
The young mother, who was supposed to exude beauty, was as dry as an old tree. She swung her fingernails at the ladies who were trying to feed her food. Then she held Carl in her arms and whispered in his ear.
“They poisoned our food. They’ll kill me and take my place.”
Carl thought his mother was strange even at a young age. Whenever she said such a thing, the maids had an unfair face. Father Rodbius, the Emperor, shouted “Leave herself to blame” and “Crazy.” Then. his mother shouted “Someone is trying to kill me so she can sit next to you” as she threw up blood.
My father gradually reduced the number of visits from about once every two days to once a week and once every fifteen days. Eventually, he did not go to find her anymore.
“Carl! You have to believe me. That they’re trying to kill me. You have to trust me! Because you’re my son!”
Isabel slapped away the bread from Carl as he was trying to put it in his mouth and prevented him from eating. The maids struggled to bind her limbs and shouted. Even in his eyes, his mother seemed like a madwoman, not the Empress of the Empire.
Even though he was afraid of his mother’s appearance, Carl slipped the bread lying on the floor into his pocket. It was bread that she said not to eat because it was poisoned. When he returned to his room, he threw a piece of bread at a canary that he had been raising. The canary, who was pecking at the pieces of bread, perished after three or four hours.
At the tender age of six, Carl realized that Isabel’s voice was not just crazy.
He knew his mother’s words were true, but he hadn’t visited her for quite a long time since. He didn’t want to see her turn into a demon. He only dreamed in his heart that his mother would hug him with a benevolent smile as before.
It was an exceptionally rainy dawn. Carl opened his eyes early in the thin air. He couldn’t remember the dream he had last night, but maybe it was a nightmare, his bedding was soaked with sweat.
He felt he had to see his mother suddenly, so he hurried to her place without changing his pajamas.
Shoot him. Shoot him.
It was raining hard as if a hole had been drilled into the sky. Little Carl ran with the rain all over him. Every time he ran through the corridors of the Imperial Palace, he found a puddle of water from the rain that fell from him.
“Carl…”
As he hurried into the door, Isabel called in a soft voice. She didn’t wear an alligator as she did last time, nor did she look at the maids with a spiteful look. As if she had gone back to her old days, as if she had been when he was young, she had a pretty smile.
“At this time… Did you have a nightmare? You’re soaked in the rain.”
Carl dived into her arms, not caring about his wet clothes. Isabel drew the quilt over him with her polished, parched hand and wrapped him up.
“I had a scary dream.”
He whined like a child and dug into Isabel’s coquettishness.
“Don’t worry. It’s just a dream.”
She patted Carl on the cheek. Her hands on his face were as cold as ice. It was colder than him, who was deprived of warmth by the rain. He got goosebumps on the back of his neck.
“Carl.”
She called his name over and over again.