Chapter 69
Chapter 69. Oh God
Tatar downed the whiskey half-filling his glass. Though the alcohol content was high for morning drinking, he set the glass down with practiced ease.
Was it the tenth day, or perhaps the fourteenth?
Though he knew this gap was necessary to completely bind Vinea to him, he couldn’t help the burning in his throat and heart.
She’d probably hate him for now. She might even despise him, or perhaps turn away. But soon she’d understand. That a life settling by his side was better than holding onto hope that only kept breaking and shattering.
Haven’t we already broken once before?
Because of keeping Balak Utar close in an attempt to find a way to end the regression, because we didn’t focus on each other and sought other partners, we experienced that hell over just a cup of tea.
He intended to block her path until Vinea finally gave up everything.
Even with broken wings, she could still live, albeit painfully. For he would be standing at the bottom of the abyss, arms outstretched towards the falling bird.
On the desk lay information about bodies that were probably being burned in some mountain behind the imperial palace by now. He read the text with indifferent eyes.
“One, two… three this time?”
Isn’t he tired of this? The Emperor Emeritus’s obsession with constantly sending assassins to Vinea after being set free was truly remarkable.
So far, there had been five assassins trying to infiltrate the Empress’s bedroom, and two who came for him. Considering that the blade was finally pointed at him too, it seemed the Emperor Emeritus intended to put a new emperor on this throne.
“Your Majesty the Emperor Emeritus, what do you think you can do with that old body of yours?”
The Emperor Emeritus, who had spent his entire life on battlefields, had a surprisingly solid body and stamina for his age, but that was all. If he could have had an heir so easily, he would have had another one long ago.
The Tessibania imperial family had always had few children.
Only one son per generation. Perhaps due to the scarcity, they tended to have long lifespans, rarely dying early or suffering from chronic illnesses. Even if by chance another child was born, it was always a girl. Just look at the Emperor Emeritus and his half-sister, the Duchess Castallo.
This wasn’t a trait that had persisted for just one or two changes of imperial power. It had been this way for 800 years since the founding of the empire.
He didn’t even consider the tiny possibility of a half-sibling being born, as there was absolutely no chance that God – who doesn’t exist, or even if He did, wouldn’t be on humanity’s side – would suddenly bestow a miracle upon his biological father.
“Even though the Empress must know this, she’s helping with the wedding instead of thinking about dealing with the Emperor Emeritus. What on earth is my Empress planning?”
Unlike his lips curving up as if amused, his sunken gray eyes were only empty.
He muttered, lightly swirling the empty whiskey glass in his hand.
“She acted so frighteningly, as if she would burden me with something I couldn’t handle, but now she’s so quiet…”
She’s been holed up in the Empress’s Palace for over a week, not coming out. He didn’t know how she was controlling it, but no information was leaking from inside at all, making him feel frustrated now.
Her personal maid, Lineue, seemed to be moving busily, but perhaps he should have forcibly brought her in and made her spill everything about Vinea.
As he fidgeted with the fingers holding the whiskey glass, he belatedly recalled that the Empress had one appointment today.
“Didn’t she say she had an appointment with the Emperor Emeritus?”
The Emperor Emeritus. The moment he could completely sever the blood ties was probably when he saw with his own eyes the Emperor Emeritus raising his hand to her cheek.
Even though he was his husband’s biological father, when he learned that she had hidden the fact that she had been slapped several times before being discovered, he seemed to have swung his sword at the Emperor Emeritus without hesitation.
But with each regression, it all comes back to life regardless, so no matter what punishment he inflicts on the Emperor Emeritus, it ultimately becomes as if nothing happened. In the end, only those who remember everything must live bearing that humiliation and anger.
“―Your Majesty.”
Deron, who had gone to check on the Empress’s whereabouts on Tatar’s orders, returned.
The door flung open without seeking his permission, and Deron’s disheveled appearance, as if he had been running for a while, made it easy to guess that something had happened.
“Her Majesty the Empress has collapsed.”
* * *
The Emperor Emeritus sneered at the sight of Vinea bringing the cup to her lips without any suspicion.
“Your uncle Gartan Aktavil didn’t drink even a single sip of tea here. Knowing what I might have done.”
Vinea smiled brightly at him.
Vinea slightly lowered the cup from her lips and focused her gaze on the rippling tea.
She could see her own distorted face reflected on the shaking surface.
“Even if you did nothing, it would end up like this.”
What on earth is she saying? The Emperor Emeritus paused to process Vinea’s words, then twisted his face and abruptly stood up.
The table rattled loudly as it collided with his body, causing the documents on top to fall to the floor. The sheets of paper fluttering like feathers were mercilessly crumpled in the Emperor Emeritus’s hand.
“You wench…!”
The heat of the not-yet-cooled tea stung Vinea’s throat. Click, Vinea set down the empty teacup and drew an arc with the corner of her wet lips.
“Just watch. You will eventually lose your life at the hands of your child.”
“Hey! Is anyone there?”
As the Emperor Emeritus shouted, Vinea’s body shuddered and recoiled greatly with a cough. Soon, splat, dark red blood fell like paint onto the documents scattered across the floor.
Knights rushed into the room. The Emperor Emeritus standing up from his seat and the Empress coughing up blood. The teacup empty only in front of the Empress.
Along with her swaying vision falling to the floor, complete darkness finally engulfed Vinea.
* * *
Deron drew in an anxious breath. Her Majesty the Empress had collapsed, so why were his master’s steps so calm?
Even after hearing the news of the Empress’s collapse, Tatar showed no sign of agitation.
His sharp eyes narrowed lazily.
Although they said her breathing was shallow and her life might be in danger, he didn’t seem to care much.
His heart was still beating properly. His vision hadn’t turned black, nor was he standing on that damned red carpet in the wedding hall again.
She would not die. Even if she did, what would it matter?
We will live for eternity, and that end will never come. As it has been until now, so it will be in the future.
However, Tatar’s steps, which had been moving at a steady pace towards the separate palace where the Emperor Emeritus stayed, came to an abrupt halt at Deron’s next words.
“…Say that again. What happened to the Empress?”
“She collapsed immediately after drinking tea in the presence of His Majesty the Emperor Emeritus. She was urgently moved to the Empress’s Palace, and medical staff are currently examining her.”
Blue veins stood out prominently on the back of Tatar’s clenched fist.
No. It can’t be.
His footsteps, passing Deron, headed towards the Empress’s Palace.
His regular stride gradually widened and quickened.
His steps, passing by the servants standing in front of the Empress’s bedroom, finally arrived before Vinea.
The doctors, noticing him, hurriedly bowed their heads, but upon meeting those chillingly cold eyes, they trembled and stepped back.
“Y-Your Majesty. First, the tea Her Majesty the Empress drank was Arpanium, which Your Majesty had previously forbidden…”
Arpanium. That cursed tea again?
“Step aside.”
His gray eyes turned to the chief physician. It was an eerie atmosphere, as if it would be strange if he didn’t kill someone right away.
Deron, who had followed belatedly, hurriedly ushered the doctors out of the room.
Click.
As the door closed, silence fell. Yes, silence. In this space where even breathing sounds were too faint to be heard, were there really two living people?
The figure of a person lying quietly inside the thin canopy could be seen.
He slowly pulled back the canopy. The mist-like fabric covering Vinea’s body was pushed aside, finally revealing her face, lying as if dead.
“…Empress.”
A low, trembling voice filled the room. No answer came. Just like in the thirty-fifth regression, when she had abandoned him in fear and fled into dreams.
“Vinea.”
The owner of the name did not answer.
I know you’re not dead. I know you won’t die.
But I know you will kill me, who cannot die.
Tatar’s rough hand grasped Vinea’s pale cheek. His thumb brushed Vinea’s lips. A very faint breath, as if it might break at any moment, grazed him slightly.
“Wake up. Wake up and say my name. Whisper the hell we’ve been through.”
Open your eyes and ask which regression this is. Then he would whisper in her ear that the seventy-seventh regression, which the Empress cherishes so much, is not over yet, so she can enjoy it a little longer.
Despite his desperate wish, the voice that never came finally erupted into resentment, and then anger.
“Wasn’t my sin from that time avenged by the Empress of the next and the next life abandoning me and fleeing into dreams? Is that not enough, that you do this to me?”
His hand traveled from her lips to Vinea’s neck. A small pulsation was felt through his palm.
Finally, he pressed the back of his hand firmly between Vinea’s chest and collarbone.
Thump, thump, thump―
That regular heartbeat, more surely than the shallow escaping breaths and the throbbing of her pulse, announced that she was alive.
However, no relief crossed his despairing face. It wasn’t an action taken to confirm that she was alive in the first place.
It was just a conscious action to confirm whether she was really by his side.
“You allowed it, didn’t you? You said I could do as I pleased, that I could break those wings.”
‘In exchange, bearing the consequences, whatever they may be, is your share―’
The distant afterwords scatter.
“You said bearing it was my share. Then you should have only done as much as I could bear.”
As if mocking him, the words she had spoken to him all this time bored into his ears like ridicule.
‘How frightening it was. Fearing that when you opened your eyes, you would look at me as if for the first time, that I would face you who had finally abandoned me and fled alone.’
Only now, as that hell she must have experienced alone at the end of the thirty-fourth regression, and at the beginning of the thirty-fifth and thirty-sixth regressions, unfolded beneath his feet, did he truly understand those words.
‘That’s what I think hell is, Your Majesty. When we, driven mad, fail to recognize each other and throw each other into the abyss―’
He knelt at Vinea’s feet.
He took her hand that had slipped out from under the blanket and covered his terribly distorted eyes with it.
He prayed to a God he didn’t believe in.
“If there’s a damn God out there, please.”
Don’t take away his world.
In response to his desperation, the Vinea in his memories whispered to him.
‘―That’s the worst ending we could face.’
