During their stay in Arashan, Lyle and Elaina were treated with great hospitality. The week they spent there passed by in the blink of an eye.
On the final day, the king invited a special guest for Lyle and Elaina. It was an elderly woman, her entire body cloaked in a head covering, with only her eyes exposed. Her age could only be guessed from the wrinkles around her eyes, but from her gaze alone, it was clear she was no ordinary person.
“Her name is Morai. She is a very ancient priestess. Morai will read your fortune.”
The prince introduced the old woman. She was said to be in charge of royal rituals and particularly gifted in divination.
The interpreter quickly added more details about Morai. She was the highest-ranking priestess in the Arashan temple, a position equivalent to the Pope in the Empire. Elaina’s mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Someone that important…”
“This is our gift in return for the friendship you have shown us.”
The prince smiled as he spoke.
“Ask whatever you wish. No matter what it is, Morai will answer.”
Elaina looked up at Lyle. She herself had no particular questions in mind. After a moment of thought, Lyle opened his mouth.
“When will a child come to us?”
Though his voice was flat, Elaina’s face instantly turned bright red.
“Lyle! What are you saying?! Honestly!”
“…That’s the only thing I’m curious about.”
As the interpreter translated Lyle’s question, a wave of laughter broke out among the Arashan nobility. Elaina’s face flushed even deeper.
The Arashan people already knew how deeply the Archduke of the Empire loved his wife, and how close the two were.
“Truly, inviting the two of you was the right choice.”
Lyle Grant. The unparalleled hero who brought about the revival of the Empire’s north. His reputation had already reached even distant Arashan.
But seeing him in person, Lyle was even more impressive than the rumors had said.
The lavish gold necklace around Elaina’s neck was proof of Lyle’s victory in martial contests against Arashan’s finest warriors.
That such a great warrior would ask the greatest priestess of Arashan about the birth of his successor—while the king had expected a broader, more strategic question, he laughed heartily and gave a nod to Morai.
Morai handed them a container filled with long, split wooden sticks. As she shook it briskly, the sticks clattered and shuffled about.
“[Focus your minds and each draw one stick.]”
Morai’s voice had an air of mystique—sounding both like that of an old woman and a very young child.
In the Empire, fortune-telling was generally considered a frivolous activity for unmarried noble girls. Having a priestess from a foreign land divine their fortune could easily be dismissed—but Elaina swallowed hard and, visibly nervous, reached into the container.
Each of them drew a stick. Elaina was the first to hand hers over.
At the sight of Elaina’s stick, Morai appeared to smile. Her mouth was hidden beneath her garments, but the way the deep wrinkles around her eyes curved into half-moons was unmistakable.
As Morai quickly muttered something under her breath, the people of Arashan broke into applause once again.
“Congratulations!”
Still confused, Elaina blinked wide-eyed. The interpreter beamed as he explained, “Morai says the god of war of Arashan walks with you both.”
Hearing those words, Elaina recalled what she’d been told on their first day here. The season of love. That a child conceived in Arashan’s sweltering summer would be the incarnation of the god of war.
That alcohol-blurred night with Lyle. Elaina instinctively placed a hand over her lower abdomen and looked up at Lyle with wide eyes. He, too, seemed stunned, his face frozen in place.
“They say you’ll have a remarkable child. Stronger than the desert’s sandstorms. A warrior more valiant than any before.”
The prince’s congratulatory message followed. Though she had never given the matter much thought before, Elaina’s heart began to race at the very idea.
“The Archduke’s fortune will now be read.”
Lyle silently placed his stick onto Morai’s outstretched hand. The elderly priestess, who had taken Lyle’s draw with a smile, suddenly widened her eyes.
Her gaze sharpened as she urgently murmured something to the prince.
“Wh-what is it?”
Elaina, startled by Morai’s drastic change in demeanor, asked anxiously. There was no way Morai could understand the Imperial tongue, but she looked straight at Elaina and held up two fingers.
“Two? What do you mean, two?”
The prince’s expression darkened. He asked Morai several more questions in a grave tone. After a brief exchange, he finally turned to Lyle and Elaina.
“The Archduchess is said to be carrying twins.”
The answer came as a bit of a letdown after such a dramatic reaction.
“Twins? Is it really possible to know that already?”
It was hard enough to believe they might even be expecting—now she was told it would be twins? Even coming from a revered priestess, it was difficult to accept.
“Even so… is having twins really that shocking?”
Trying to appear nonchalant, the prince forced a smile and shook his head.
“You remember what I said before, don’t you? That children born during the season of love are said to be blessed by the god of war. Arashan holds a myth about the children born of that god during this season. That’s why Morai was so shaken. Please don’t be too alarmed.”
But behind the prince, Morai’s expression remained deeply grave. The nobles who had previously clapped and cheered were now noticeably subdued. Their averted gazes only deepened Elaina’s unease.
***
“You’re still thinking about it?”
“Of course I am.”
On their journey back to the Empire, Elaina still wore a serious expression as she stared at her book. The title read Myths of Arashan. For several days, she hadn’t turned the page.
“It’s just a superstition. Don’t worry too much.”
“How can I not worry? What if we really do end up having twins?”
With a solemn face, Elaina thrust the book under Lyle’s nose.
“Just look at this—how badly those twins of the god of war got along.”
The god of war in Arashan mythology, Rakal, had twin children, Latek and Zara, with the goddess of love, Nunu. Born in the season of love, the two inherited Rakal’s fierce nature and refused to acknowledge one another. Constantly clashing, they quarreled whenever their eyes met.
“I’m not the god of war. You’re not the goddess of love either. We don’t even know for sure if you’re pregnant. And even if you are, there’s no way our children would fight like that.”
Lyle tried to reassure her.
Since leaving Arashan, Elaina had become wholly absorbed in its mythology. Lyle had heard the story so many times by now that he could recite the gist of it himself.
“If you’re worried about sibling rivalry, then think about Knox and me. We didn’t get along at first, but now we do. It’s the same with those twins in the myth. So don’t worry too much. Just remember the good parts.”
“…I suppose you’re right.”
Elaina finally relaxed her tense shoulders. Leaning against Lyle with a drowsy sigh, her eyes still lingered on the book.
In the myth, the feuding twins ultimately took each other’s lives. Their mother, the goddess Nunu, wept over their bodies and carried them to her friend, the god of sleep, Kalim…
“You’re right. There’s no need to worry ahead of time.”
Elaina closed the book.
“Do you think Knox will like his gift?”
“I’m sure he will. He was really curious about foreign swords.”
“I got so used to wearing thin clothes in Arashan. I can’t believe it’ll be winter again when we get back. What about you?”
“Same here.”
“Still, I’m happy to be going home. I hope everyone likes their gifts.”
“One thing’s for sure—Colin’s going to love his.”
Elaina giggled at the memory of Arashan’s potent liquor that had once left Lyle intoxicated. His eyes curved in amusement. Seeing her mood brighten, Lyle gently kissed her soft lips, not letting the moment pass.