Chapter 22

The scorching hot liquid flowed down my throat.

Alcohol is generally like that, but this cheap distilled liquor was especially so. No flavor or anything, just a liquid that exists to get you drunk.

If that’s the purpose, it might be more efficient than any other drink, but I didn’t particularly like it.

“Surprisingly strong, this drink.”

“It exists solely to get you drunk. Also, you’re drinking it straight without even adding water. The alcohol in your glass is evaporating in real-time, it’s almost visible.”

“Alcohol is meant to get you drunk. If I wanted to dilute it, I’d just drink water from the start.”

“You sound like a dockworker.”

“Considering we both do physical labor, I don’t think there’s much difference.”

She was more elegant and enchanting than any other woman, yet at the same time, rougher and more daring than any warrior.

Of course, she also carried the venomous schemes and malice unique to nobility.

She had the head of a raptor that captivated all, the body of a lion that tore apart enemies, and behind it all, the tail of a venomous serpent.

Like some mythical creature, she charmed countless men on the battlefield and buried countless enemies.

“Camilla, what kind of existence do you see me as?”

That’s why I wanted to know what kind of existence I was in the eyes of such beings.

“…A tragic heroine who built walls instead of bridges.”

“I think the gender is wrong.”

“A baby left by the river, the youngest in our group.”

“I’m a year older than you.”

“And… always the apologetic friend.”

Even someone as clueless as me could understand the reason for that apology.

That reason was the yoke that bound me now and the cause of my fiancée’s hatred for me.

“Killing her was something someone had to do, and I was the one who did it. That’s all there is to it, so there’s no need for you to feel sorry.”

I’d rather suffer myself than see others suffer.

“But my fiancée seems intent on never forgiving me until her death.”

“You weren’t actually planning to marry her in the first place, were you? It was all about making that scrawny kid the family head…!”

“Camilla.”

She was now a proper family head herself. So, she wasn’t the type to be found in such a humble tavern with cheap snacks.

She was competent, so she’d do well even without me.

“Speaking of family heads… my younger sister will soon have her inauguration ceremony.”

“I’m not going. If I see her face, I don’t know what I might do.”

“That child will be angry.”

“But since His Majesty is going, that should suffice.”

His Majesty was as sharp as the famed sword he wielded.

Even if it was my sister’s inauguration ceremony, he would handle it officially, and that would be enough to maintain the dignity of a family head.

“Right. Her Majesty the Empress or you might, but His Majesty the Emperor wouldn’t swing his sword at such an event.”

“Right. That fool wouldn’t stop at just that… Ah, never mind.”

Trailing off, she tried to lighten the mood by filling my glass to the brim.

I took it without hesitation, and once again, the hot bitterness flowed down my throat.

I wasn’t particularly strong with alcohol, but I could pride myself on being stronger than the average person.

“Shall we get going now?”

“Just when the buzz is starting to kick in?”

“Alcohol is best stopped at that point. And we’ve already gone through over ten bottles of this distilled liquor.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m a boring person, but if you follow me, I’ll show you something interesting.”

“Something interesting?”

She stood up, seemingly intrigued. His Majesty and Camilla both suffered from an incurable curiosity, like children who couldn’t resist something interesting.

On the battlefield, Her Majesty had often been driven to frustration by this trait. Of course, Her Majesty would unleash curses too foul to repeat each time.

“Follow me to where I’m staying.”

I also placed money on the table and walked straight out.

“You’re drunk.”

“As you can see, I’m more sober than anyone.”

“Your tongue might be fine, but your steps are wobbly. You might fall.”

She grabbed my arm and started supporting me.

Handling me as if I were a child who couldn’t walk properly, she held me firmly yet gently, so I couldn’t resist and had to be led along.

“Turn right after leaving here, then left at the main road, then walk a bit more and…”

“You’re drunk. I get it, so stop rattling off directions like a machine gun.”

As I walked supported by Camilla, her hair seemed to shimmer under the moonlight.

“…It’s sparkling.”

“My beauty is something, isn’t it?”

We must both be drunk. Walking while exchanging such trivial banter.

There aren’t many people who would entertain such pointless conversations.

“Camilla…”

“What, are you going to confess your love now?”

“I know my place, so that’s out of the question.”

“…This is all someone’s fault.”

“If… just if… I had been a bit more selfish, how would things have turned out?”

I hate “what ifs.”

Yet, lately, I can’t stop this bad habit of thinking about those “what ifs.”

“If I hadn’t cared about the pain my family would feel after learning the truth… If I had just shouted at them, ‘What do you know?’… If I had screamed that I sacrificed myself for them and demanded their love…”

“…”

“If I had yelled at my fiancée, ‘Someone had to kill your sister!’… ‘I was the one with the ability to do it, so I fulfilled my duty!’… ‘Do you know how hard I worked to make you the family head?!’…”

“……”

“If I had demanded that everyone respect the little life I had left… If I had sweetly enjoyed the guilt I owed them and lived on… If I could have ignored the pain they would feel after I was gone…”

It’s not like I hadn’t thought about it.

I’m human too.

I wanted to be loved too.

It’s just that when I weighed the pain, guilt, and what they would feel after my death against my own suffering on a scale.

“If I could have been that selfish…”

If I could have tipped the scale in favor of my own suffering by belittling theirs.

“That’s a foolish thing to say. You really are drunk.”

“What…?”

“That’s not being selfish.”

When I stopped walking, she also stopped and looked at my empty face.

“That’s being honest.”

“Being honest and being selfish are the same, aren’t they?”

“To the people who drove you to think selfishly, they are.”

“It’s hard. Really hard. To know who deserves it and who doesn’t. And how being honest and being natural are different. I really don’t think I’ll ever understand.”

“It’s okay. You’ll figure it out someday. Before you die.”

“In the less than a year I have left, it doesn’t seem like something I can easily figure out…”

I won’t be able to repeat the same date.

Every date will be my last. I won’t see a second June 1st.

“…So we have to try.”

“We…?”

“You just go with the flow. It’s us who have to go against it.”

Trying to make sense of her incomprehensible words, I decided to go with the flow.

Leaning on her as she supported me, I miraculously made it to the lord’s mansion.

“…See. As you can see, I’m not drunk. The fact that I made it here safely is proof.”

“I’m the one who brought you here.”

“…I don’t know.”

“Should I really hit you every time you say ‘I don’t know’?”

I only said “I don’t know” because I really don’t.

Now I’m becoming a fool who can’t understand anything.

Even if that understanding is an escape from the pain that comes with knowledge.

“…By the way, you said you’d show me something interesting.”

I always strive to keep my promises.

If I said I’d show something interesting, then showing something interesting is my creed.

I wobbled up the stairs and took out the cage hanging in my study to show Camilla.

“This is the crow I keep…”

“I’ve seen countless crows like that on the battlefield.”

“This one can speak human language. It’s quite a unique fellow. It even curses as well as Her Majesty the Empress…”

But Camilla seemed scared of the crow and turned her head away.

“Make it say something.”

Come to think of it, has this crow ever spoken to anyone other than me?

I don’t remember.

“Caw, caw…?”

“It’s just a crow.”

“Caw…!”

“But why does this crow’s cry sound so unnatural?”

Something was off.

This crow was supposed to speak human language and understand my feelings to some extent.

It even had the intelligence to bring me medicine when I was in danger.

“Strange… It definitely spoke before…”

“With all the nonsensical chatter around, maybe the crow’s cries just sounded like words…”

“It definitely spoke to me several times…”

“Damn those women. How much did they torment the kid to drive him to this state?”

The atmosphere started to shift as if I were crazy enough to converse with a crow.

“Truly unfair.”

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