Chapter 33
Ever since I entered Irene’s body, the persistent ringing in my ears had slowly turned into something clearer—sharper.
If I sat still and looked at the leaves… I could hear the sound of rain.
There were times before when I’d mistaken rustling leaves in the wind for rainfall, but this was different.
It was as if I could smell the rain—damp, earthy, and far off, yet vividly present.
“Is it because I stopped taking the medicine?”
After I got rid of the doctor Chloe had placed in my care, changes began in this body.
A surge of energy had returned, along with a strange yet familiar rhythm that pulsed through me—like something I had once known.
“You carry the power of Mergen!”
That’s what my grandfather used to say when I was a child.
But after I turned twelve, that power vanished. Now, I could feel something similar—something stirring deep within me.
Irene…
How had she switched bodies with me?
I was now convinced—it had something to do with this power.
“It’s going to rain. I’m sure of it.”
“You can tell that?”
The Duke had said there would be a typhoon soon.
And I… felt the same.
I had no doubt. A massive storm cloud would soon sweep across the continent.
“The smell of rain is heavy in the air.”
“I don’t smell anything… Wait—are you saying you can actually sense something?”
Hope lit up on Elliot’s face.
“Let’s prepare the ritual. And move the schedule forward.”
“Move it forward…?”
“If it rains before the ritual, we’ll lose our moment. We need to get ahead of it.”
Elliot hesitated briefly, then nodded.
Though his trust in me had wavered lately, he still chose to follow.
“I’ll need more tools this time. Let’s increase the number of sacred items—enough that losing one or two won’t matter.”
“Your cunning never disappoints.”
“Thank you for the compliment.”
He likely wasn’t convinced.
Truthfully, neither was I.
But one thing was certain—this would be the perfect test.
I may not have the power to summon rain…
But if I could understand the will of the forest—Then no one would dare stand in my way.
* * *
“Do you think it will rain?”
All of the Empire’s former court meteorologists were gathered in Chloe’s chambers.
“We can’t say for certain. But with current conditions, it’s unlikely.”
“When do you think it might rain?”
“Maybe… around the time of the ritual?”
Roosevelt, tapping his foot impatiently, pressured the scholars.
“Who started this rumor about rain anyway? It’s not just our Empire—the whole continent is withering in drought! And even if it does rain, it won’t be enough to soak a field.”
“Exactly.”
“Yes. Unless something truly unnatural occurs.”
Chloe listened to their conclusions, but the unease in her chest refused to fade.
“I’ll conduct the ritual myself.”
Those confident eyes of Irene’s—they had left an unpleasant echo in her mind.
“Roosevelt. We need new ears.”
“You’re planting more spies? But if they betray you like that maid Karlin—”
“Then maybe you should have managed them better.”
Chloe’s eyes flashed cold and sharp.
“M-my apologies.”
“Find out what she’s plotting.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Even if you have to press your ear to her walls yourself.”
“Understood…”
— Kyareureureuk! It can hear us now!
— We finally met!
— It said it wants water!
— A whole lot of water!
It’s that dream again.
No—those voices again.
The cheerful chatter of children.
But this wasn’t a dream. It felt more like… the voice of the forest.
— You don’t have to hide anymore!
— No more hiding!
Hide? What was I hiding?
I want to see you.
What are you?
— We’re everywhere. Beside you. Inside you.
— We’re everywhere!
— That’s right!
Their fading voices echoed with pure joy.
They must be happy.
And as I slipped into deep sleep, the corners of my lips curved upward.
* * *
The Rain Ritual preparations were going smoothly.
Too smoothly, in fact—enough that I managed to wrap up some lingering issues with the shipping business along the way.
Aside from getting measured for ceremonial attire, there wasn’t much else for me to do.
Tonight, I decided to take a walk. I’d grown fond of the sounds I heard when walking through the garden.
Tonight’s walking companion? A hummingbird I happened upon by chance.
No bigger than two joints of my finger, the tiny bird was dipping its beak into a small vial of nectar I held in my hand.
Even something this small flaps its wings fiercely to survive.
“How admirable.”
Not something I would’ve thought in the past.
Entranced by the easy sweetness, the hummingbird perched lightly on my finger.
I kept walking, absorbed in watching it flutter.
That’s when I saw Abel swinging his sword in the clearing ahead.
Of course. It had to be him.
Not that I particularly wanted to run into him… but our eyes met. Turning away now would just be rude.
So I walked a bit closer—just enough to make conversation.
“Practicing hard, even at night.”
Abel, shirtless, was training under the moonlight. His top tossed somewhere aside, revealing his body.
My gaze drifted over him.
He had the kind of body I could never have, even if I died and came back again.
Sharply sculpted muscles, old scars, thick beads of sweat.
As I approached, Abel grabbed a towel from the weapon stand and wiped his face.
“The night air’s chilly.”
“Well, I can’t exactly lock myself in my room just because it’s cold.”
He slung the towel around his neck.
The sword was still in his hand—gleaming.
“You’re not planning to use that on me, I hope. Maybe put it down?”
I nodded toward the blade, and Abel followed my gaze.
He moved.
And hung the sword on the rack. His hand—covered in thick, rough calluses—stood out to me.
I had calluses too, once.
Tough little ridges between my fingers from constant writing—worn down through fierce effort.
Well… they’re soft now.
My fingers, currently serving as a perch for a hummingbird, were pale and smooth.
“What is that?”
Abel noticed the bird and asked.
“You’ve never seen a hummingbird?”
“Something this small can fly?”
“Despite its size, it’s the fastest bird in the world when it comes to wingbeats.”
The hummingbird, still drinking its fill, fluttered excitedly.
“The sound of their wings is so fast, it hums—just like a bee. That’s why they’re called hummingbirds.”
“Small and fast… I suppose that gives it an advantage in survival.”
I burst into laughter at Abel’s response.
To think he could watch such a tiny, adorable bird and immediately start talking about survival…
It was just so Abel.
“In order to flap its wings so fast, its heart has to beat at an incredible rate. I heard it has to feed on nectar every ten minutes just to stay alive.”
“Every ten minutes?”
“If it goes without food for even two hours, it can die. That’s why so many hummingbirds die in their sleep. It’s kind of brutal, isn’t it?”
I gently stroked the hummingbird’s tiny head.
Rather than flinching, it leaned into my touch.
“If it had given up flying and evolved differently… maybe it wouldn’t have to live so desperately.”
Most people would find the hummingbird’s fate cruel after hearing this.
“There were times I thought this bird’s destiny… reminded me of someone.”
It couldn’t stop flapping its wings.
It had to move with everything it had, as if its heart might burst—just to gather nectar, to survive.
I’d stayed awake, night after night, unable to rest… afraid I’d die if I let my guard down for even a second.
My life, in many ways, resembled that of a hummingbird.
“I once believed I had great wings… Have you ever thought that about yourself?”
I asked Abel.
Because if he was still under that illusion, someone needed to tell him—the world he’d be flying through would be no different than a hummingbird’s. Small. Limited. Exhausting.
I really do have a twisted personality sometimes.
“If it were me, I would’ve ripped the wings off and stood on my own two feet.”
“To stand… on your feet.”
“If the sky only brings pain, then I’d rather let it go.”
“And if, despite that… you still want the sky?”
“Then I’d build a tower—tall enough to reach it—and climb all the way up.”
Strangely, his words satisfied me.
I should’ve been annoyed—should’ve disliked him—but instead, I found myself pleased.
At that moment, the hummingbird, now full of nectar, lifted off my finger.
It buzzed in circles around me once, then fluttered off into the dark.
“You’re a smart one, Abel.”
Why couldn’t we have been born of the same blood?
If we had, maybe we would’ve truly understood each other.
It was a melancholy thought—that no matter what, even after dying and coming back, Abel and I were destined to never belong in the same world.
“No matter who your family is… don’t let them use you up like you’re disposable.”
“…Why are you telling me this?”
“Because if you’re going to stand on your own two feet, then you should also choose your own path.”
He’s too valuable to be strung up like a puppet for Chloe’s games.
“Maybe you won’t understand what I mean until the day you die.”
And I couldn’t exactly recommend he try that just to get it.
“Don’t let Grandfather, or your mother, take what’s yours. Protect it.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll leave this place eventually. And when you do… you shouldn’t lose anything that belongs to you.”
“Why do you want to become the next head of the family?”
Abel asked me then.
Once, I wouldn’t have been able to answer that question.
But now, the answer came instantly.
“Because I have no reason not to.”
“…”
“And because… it’s the thing I’m best at.”
