Chapter 107
Chapter 107. Never to Return (END)
Following the failed rebellion within Veshnu, the newspapers were filled daily with details about the trial of Emperor Emeritus Maxiul of Tessibania. Next, there was a story about the Empress blessed by divine grace, but under pressure from the imperial court, it only filled a small corner of the newspapers. The dream of Grand Duke Gartan Aktavil, who led the rebellion in Veshnu, was shattered by the hand of his brother, Emperor Orban. Known for their close relationship, Emperor Orban showed no mercy, personally ending the Duke’s life by sword and sharing evidence of his collaboration with Emperor Emeritus Maxiul to reignite war with Tessibania.
Amidst these fleeting moments of peace at the palace, new news emerged—the Empress was expecting a child. Stories of the Emperor and Empress’s love, having protected and cherished each other through tumultuous times, circulated throughout the empire. The one person who had believed the Emperor would return from the dead had once been accused of stealing the Sefitiana, the source of malicious rumors that now turned in her favor.
As the newspapers, noisy for months over tantalizing scandals, finally quieted, news reached the journalists that the Emperor was lavishly acquiring everything deemed beneficial for the soon-to-be-born child.
Empress Vinea, annoyed, closed the newspaper with a sigh.
Tatar rose abruptly, approaching her with urgency, as if on the brink of death. “Is there something wrong, Empress?”
“I should have delayed the announcement. If I had known it would cause such a fuss.”
At Vinea’s comment, Tatar’s face hardened. His gaze shifted to Vinea’s now fully rounded belly. “Don’t even joke about drying up and dying.”
The mere thought was horrifying. What if something happened to the child while he was unaware? He was already enduring an insurmountable pressure every day, every moment.
Vinea, lying in bed, stroked the tired lines around Tatar’s eyes. “Don’t push yourself too hard. Assassins aren’t coming anymore.”
His dark eyes moved to rest his hand on her belly. “Did we die only because of assassins? Empress, humans die too easily. We know that better than anyone. I’m terrified of losing you even for a moment, afraid that if I blink, I might find myself back on that red carpet, that all this might disappear like a momentary dream.”
His fears were not far-fetched, and Vinea shared them. “It’s today, you know. Just today, and it’s over.”
Today marked exactly one year of their marriage. If they could get past today without experiencing the usual deadly ordeal, they would truly escape the cycle of regressions.
“Not much time left. Shall we go to the garden? I feel stifled.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to stay in the room?”
“Seeing you like this, I think we need to go out.”
Reluctantly, Tatar accompanied Vinea to the garden. Recently renovated, the Baloua flowers that had been in the glass garden on top of the Empress’s Palace had been transplanted here.
Standing amid the flourishing blue blossoms, Vinea closed her eyes to feel the breeze.
From a few steps away, Tatar watched her, his hand over his pounding heart. How much time was left? The palace bell always stopped his heart on its sixth toll.
If only time could stop now. The dimming sky, the cooling breeze, his world, his love—this perfect scene should just freeze.
But time flowed on, and the first bell toll reached his ears.
Dong—
Vinea opened her eyes. Her blue gaze moved from the blossoming Baloua flowers to the sunset.
Dong—
She turned around and looked at him. A scared, pitiful man reflected in her blue eyes.
Dong—
Her lips curled slightly, reassuring him not to worry, her eyes softening the harsh lines of his distraught face.
Dong—
He stepped forward. Slowly. Deliberately, as if wishing to stay in this moment forever.
Dong—
Finally reaching her, Vinea lifted her head to look up at his face and placed her hands gently on his cheeks.
The last bell tolled.
Dong—
“I love you. My world, my eternity, my salvation. Tatar, you.”
As the sixth bell rang, his heart still beat fiercely, and the first moment of their future beyond the seventy-seventh regression welcomed Vinea and Tatar.
His face twisted as if he was about to cry, he managed to respond:
“I love you too, Vinea.”
* * *
The news of the failed rebellion in Veshnu followed by the trial of Emperor Emeritus Maxiul of Tessibania filled the papers daily. Next, the newspapers carried a story about the Empress, hailed as ‘blessed by divine grace,’ though it occupied only a small corner due to pressure from the royal court. The rebellion led by Grand Duke Gartan Aktavil of Veshnu was crushed by his brother, Emperor Orban of Veshnu. Despite their close relationship, Emperor Orban showed no mercy and personally ended the Duke’s life with a sword, sharing evidence of his plans to reignite war with Tessibania alongside Emperor Emeritus Maxiul.
As the palace seemingly approached a period of peace, new news arrived—the Empress was pregnant. The tale of the Emperor and Empress, who had protected and cherished each other through tumultuous times, circulated throughout the empire. The one person who had steadfastly believed the Emperor would return from the dead was once vilified as the thief of the Sefitiana, a basis for malicious rumors which now turned in her favor.
Just when the newspapers had quieted down from months of feeding on juicy scandals, it became known that the Emperor was lavishly purchasing anything deemed beneficial for the unborn child.
Empress Vinea, annoyed, closed the newspaper with a sigh.
Tatar stood up abruptly and approached her with urgency, as if death were imminent. “Is something amiss, Empress?”
“I should have delayed the announcement. Had I known it would cause such a fuss.”
With Vinea’s comment, Tatar’s face hardened. His gaze then shifted to Vinea’s now fully rounded belly. “Don’t even joke about drying up and dying.”
The mere thought was horrifying. What if something happened to the child while he was unaware? He was already enduring insurmountable pressure every day, every moment.
Vinea, lying in bed, stroked the tired lines around Tatar’s eyes. “Don’t overexert yourself. We no longer have assassins coming after us.”
His dark eyes moved to rest his hand on her belly. “Did we die only because of assassins? Empress, humans die too easily. We know that better than anyone. I’m terrified of losing you even for a moment, afraid that if I blink, I might find myself back on that red carpet, that all this might disappear like a momentary dream.”
His fears were not far-fetched, and Vinea shared them. “It’s today, you know. Just today, and it’s over.”
Today marked exactly one year of their marriage. If they could get past today without experiencing the usual deadly ordeal, they would truly escape the cycle of regressions.
“Not much time left. Shall we go to the garden? I feel stifled.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to stay in the room?”
“Seeing you like this, I think we need to go out.”
Reluctantly, Tatar accompanied Vinea to the garden. Recently renovated, the Baloua flowers that had been in the glass garden on top of the Empress’s Palace had been transplanted here.
Standing amid the flourishing blue blossoms, Vinea closed her eyes to feel the breeze.
From a few steps away, Tatar watched her, his hand over his pounding heart. How much time was left? The palace bell always stopped his heart on its sixth toll.
If only time could stop now. The dimming sky, the cooling breeze, his world, his love—this perfect scene should just freeze.
But time flowed on, and the first bell toll reached his ears.
Dong—
Vinea opened her eyes. Her blue gaze moved from the blossoming Baloua flowers to the sunset.
Dong—
She turned around and looked at him. A scared, pitiful man reflected in her blue eyes.
Dong—
Her lips curled slightly, reassuring him not to worry, her eyes softening the harsh lines of his distraught face.
Dong—
He stepped forward. Slowly. Deliberately, as if wishing to stay in this moment forever.
Dong—
Finally reaching her, Vinea lifted her head to look up at his face and placed her hands gently on his cheeks.
The last bell tolled.
Dong—
“I love you. My world, my eternity, my salvation. Tatar, you.”
As the sixth bell rang, his heart still beat fiercely, and the first moment of their future beyond the seventy-seventh regression welcomed Vinea and Tatar.
His face twisted as if he was about to cry, he managed to respond:
“I love you too, Vinea.”
[END]
