#74
They were skilled at mimicking words and expressions. While acting as if they possessed emotions, their inner selves were hollow. Others’ emotions were processed through analysis and replication, and they could make one mistake that as their own emotions.
They still couldn’t be certain how different Ersen was from them.
From the observers’ standpoint, even the criteria for judging whether he was human or not had become ambiguous. His actions seemed human, and his reactions were humanlike. But they couldn’t tell whether that was “real” or an illusion mimicking someone’s form. That uncertainty was making both Skyle and Theodore more cautious.
“What will you do?”
Theodore asked quietly. There was no firmness at the end of his words. Rather, it was an inquiring tone. While seeming to pass the judgment over, he was waiting for Skyle’s answer. Not simply an opinion, but a central point for determining the direction of strategy.
“I’ll watch. And… this time, I’ll go with him.”
Skyle’s voice was unchangingly low and quiet. However, the texture of his words was definitely different. A declaration as one who acts, no longer a simple observer or guardian.
“Together?”
Theodore reacted briefly to those words. Rather than bewilderment, it was a nuance of confirmation. He too might have already expected this to some degree.
“If Prince Ersen happens to make contact with half-demons, I’ll be by his side.”
Those words weren’t simple accompaniment. They encompassed all purposes—surveillance, protection, control. The meaning that wherever the being called Ersen headed, he would follow in that direction. Skyle had judged that this person could no longer be left alone.
Theodore nodded.
He added no further words. Just brief acquiescence. However, that acquiescence was clear. No motivation was needed. Only the attitude of having entrusted the work to the sole person he trusted remained.
“Good. Don’t let him go alone.”
Those words contained some concern. The half-demon territory was a space full of variables. A chaotic zone where it wasn’t clear who was ally and who was enemy. Just Ersen entering there was dangerous, but if other emotions began to get entangled on top of that—
Skyle bowed his head.
It was quiet agreement. And within it was some complex resolution. He was choosing now. Though he appeared to be someone moving purely by necessity, not by emotion or conviction, cracks had already begun forming inside him long ago.
And at the same time.
In the Prince’s room, Sercil was keeping watch by the Prince’s side from early morning as usual.
Sunlight hadn’t fully entered yet, and the curtains were half-drawn. In the dawn air where darkness hadn’t completely lifted, the warmth remaining in the teacup was slowly cooling.
He held the teacup with its remaining heat and watched Ersen’s breathing.
Steady, even breathing. The intervals between inhalation and exhalation were stable. However, that alone couldn’t provide reassurance. Ersen’s emotions always fluctuated inside his body, harboring anxiety that didn’t show on the surface.
Ersen was sleeping, and his face looked more peaceful than usual.
Seeing such a face should have put his mind at ease. But Sercil couldn’t do so. Peacefulness meant emotions had settled, and emotions settling conversely felt like evidence that something was silently crumbling within.
But Sercil was suffering from inexplicable anxiety as he watched that face.
He had been tormented by strange emotional fragments for the past few days. Complex anxiety that couldn’t be explained by the word “worry” alone. A feeling that seeped into his chest repeatedly like some fate.
And those strange dreams.
‘Why do I keep having dreams?’
He recalled the dreams that repeated every night.
Those dreams were too vivid and ominous. Even knowing they weren’t reality, he felt pain in the dreams. Blood-soaked hands, an expressionless face, and the guilt that had seeped into it.
Moments punctuated by deep, quiet regret that only someone who had lost someone could have.
You were at the center of it.
Ersen Mayer, this ominous Prince.
Sercil carefully sat at the bedside.
Without a single sound. He didn’t want to disturb this person’s sleep. No, perhaps he already knew he couldn’t disturb it. He wanted to believe. That this quiet moment wouldn’t crumble.
The back of his hand lightly touched the forehead.
The movement was gentle and careful. There was neither coldness nor heat. Only human warmth could be felt. Body temperature was normal, but the heart was not. Emotions always flow with body temperature.
He whispered softly.
His voice was very low, and many emotions were contained within that lowness. Suspicion, worry, longing, fear—all of it was condensed into the single address of “Prince-nim.”
“Prince-nim, just what are you.”
And those words reached faintly to the ears of the quietly sleeping Ersen.
* * *
Before the sun had fully risen.
Outside the window was still overcast. A time when the boundary between night and morning wasn’t clear. Gray dawn lay long across the walls, floor, and ceiling. Cold air was subtly seeping through the silent atmosphere. At such times, senses become more sensitive and everything becomes more cautious.
I quietly opened my eyes.
My eyelids weren’t heavy. Though it hadn’t been deep sleep, there was a feeling that the tension during sleep had somewhat eased. As I breathed in, the faint herbal scent that lingered reached deep into my lungs.
Gray dawn that had seeped through the window frame cast long shadows inside the room.
The light was cold and thin. Rather than sunlight, it was closer to ashen fog, making the boundaries of all objects hazy. There was almost no difference between areas the light touched and those it didn’t.
I got up from bed and sat at the small table placed in front of the fireplace.
I adjusted my gown and slowly moved my steps. On the table were a teacup that had cooled overnight and traces as if someone had been there. The water cup was empty, and a small bottle was placed half-tilted.
Extremely quiet traces. The smell those traces left was faint, but clearly recognized by my senses. A slightly strange stimulus, familiar yet foreign, brushed through my nostrils. I carefully picked up the bottle.
Holding that bottle in my hand, I carefully smelled it. Mixed with the herbal scent was very faint metallicness.
Sharper than grass fragrance, an aftertaste that seemed to stimulate the tip of the tongue. If I breathed deeply, I could feel slight dizziness. That was—foreign. It wasn’t a simple recovery medicine. It contained substances intentionally designed to stimulate the senses.
It was a subtle mana-responsive substance handled by half-demons.
My recognizing that smell was by no means coincidence. In those days, for the pre-regression me, it had been common. In the position of being hunted, I had to rely on mana-responsive agents and had taken countless medicines containing that substance.
Called “Water of Awareness.” It temporarily makes one sensitive to mana, but it’s a forbidden potion with caffeine-like side effects that make emotions run wild.
That potion is commonly used for information detection or tracking. Brief sensory enhancement is useful, but it carries corresponding dangers. Especially since “the moment emotions arise” amplifies the potion’s effects, it’s apt to become poison for someone in an unstable state.
‘Did the Archduke know and bring this medicine?’
Skyle’s face came to mind. Always a careful and prudent person. Such a person wouldn’t deliberately give me Water of Awareness. So… there was a high possibility that he too didn’t know what this was.
Probably not.
I tilted the bottle and looked inside. The liquid was clear, and its viscosity was no different from ordinary water. It couldn’t be distinguished by sight. That made it more dangerous. Water of Awareness was a substance that could only be distinguished by “memory.”
Because Water of Awareness made by half-demons is extremely difficult to distinguish from ordinary water.
The refined mana components masked the characteristic metallic smell and disguised their existence by overlaying herbal fragrance. Recognizing this was purely thanks to my memory. No, should I say thanks to those countless nights and times tormented by poison.
‘Pre-regression experience is helpful.’
There was a time when I thought drinking this could set everything right.
The me back then always relied on Water of Awareness. Confused memories, rampaging emotions, lost clues. To grasp everything, I had to forcibly awaken my own consciousness. That taste was still unforgotten. The sharp stimulus remaining in the aftertaste.
“Besides, with this amount, it means it’s okay to die.”
The tone was somewhat dry. I didn’t genuinely want to die, but if I collapsed after drinking this, no one would find it strange given my condition. This was a kind of warning. Or a test. There might have been a purpose to check my condition.
I opened the small glass bottle and dropped a few drops on my tongue.
A strong bitter taste rose. Along with some metallic stimulus, a subtle stinging sensation spread across my tongue. Before going down to my stomach, my head had already begun to shake slightly.
A stinging taste circulated, and after a moment, my head became sharply clear.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
