Chapter 28

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 28

LUCA returned to the inn to report to the others and was about to leave to search some more when Nasette stopped him.

“Luca.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

“Yuki was undoubtedly dragged off to Maruk. You know that already,” Nasette said.

Luca knew what Nasette said was true. He knew Yuki was no longer nearby and that wasn’t because she strayed off on her own. Her ring and necklace’s removal were done intentionally, not by accident.

“Then I’ll go back to Maruk. You take everyone back to the castle.”

“Luca! Remember your own status!” Nasette grabbed Luca’s arm. Luca roughly knocked his arm off. “You can’t stay away from the castle any longer than you already have. You’re fully aware of your limits, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I know. I understand far more than I want to. I’m not a free man after all,” Luca said self-derisively.

Nasette sighed when he saw his expression.

Why has he lost his composure this badly? Nasette wondered.

“At any rate, let’s head back to the castle first. If they wanted to kill Yuki they would have back at the grove. She’s a tough girl,” he tried to convince Luca.

Luca stayed silent. He was fully aware he had no choice but to follow Nasette’s advice.

“Are you telling me to lose yet another one…?” his quiet voice fell in the silent inn entryway like a raindrop in a forest.

Nasette suddenly froze, a cold shiver running through him. “Luca…don’t tell me you’ve—”

“Prince Luca! Prince Luca! We have trouble!” Ain’s voice cut Nasette off.

“What’s wrong?” Luca glanced back at Ain, his usual calm replacing whatever emotion started to show.

Ain eyed Luca’s face suspiciously for a moment. “Did something happen, Prince Luca?”

“…No. Now, what’s your business?”

The corners of Ain’s eyes were a little red as he looked at Luca and searched for the right words. He was likely trying to come up with the right choice of words, but failed to do so.

“Prince Luca, um, well…” After a moment of fumbling over his words, Ain resolved himself to break the news. “Prince Luca, you have been called under question for treason.”

“Huh?” Luca raised an eyebrow.

Nasette couldn’t help commenting. “Oi, oi, Ain. Now is not the time for bad jokes—”

“I am not joking. An urgent Mage Message came. It is very likely a physical letter will arrive shortly.”

Mage—that one word was enough to inform Luca and Nasette they had to believe Ain. Only Ain could receive Mage Messages.

“I received a Mage Message saying I must have Prince Luca return to Adolunde Castle immediately. I believe this must be some sort of misunderstanding, but they have left you with no other choice but to go and prove your innocence firsthand. Let’s return with haste. I have already asked Tita to pack our things. I have also requested Sir Dante and Sir Galian prepare for immediate departure.”

“But why has Luca been called under question out of the blue like this?” Nasette asked.

Ain’s eyes opened wide and he bit his tongue. It took a moment before he painfully explained. “…The royal capital took it seriously when Yuki impersonated the Legendary Witch. Apparently they believe Prince Luca is conspiring with a Witch to overthrow Prince Orga, who does not think fondly of Witches.”

“What the heck kinda reasoning is that? There’s a limit to how idiotic they can be,” Nasette groaned.

“But that is exactly why they want to ascertain the truth, which only further fosters their doubt,” Luca added calmly.

“Luca,” Nasette started. Luca was expressionless, but having spent so many years with him, Nasette knew what it meant—Luca was seething inside.

“…My great brother did me in.”

“Prince Luca,” Ain said, anxiously looking at him.

“Ain, we’re returning to the castle. We’ll swiftly wrap up all the annoying political stuff and rush to Yuki’s rescue. Nasette, Ain and I will go on ahead. Take care of the others,” Luca commanded with calm indifference.

“You got it,” Nasette answered. Luca turned on his heel and walked past Nasette.

***

 

YUKI was enshrouded in darkness. She could barely make out the glass-like light-blue eyes and jet-black eyes staring at her. Yuki screamed—screamed with every bit of strength in her as pain suffused her body.

“What is it you hate so much?”

No answer.

“Why are you so sad?”

No answer.

“Why do you look at me like this?”

No matter how much she questioned the darkness, no one answered her.

“Hey, why?”

Why do you look at me with those eyes? With those distant disinterested eyes? With those hate-filled eyes? With those coldhearted eyes? With those apathetic eyes?

“Stop it…”

“I’m begging you.” Her plea was buried in darkness and didn’t reverberate anywhere.

“Don’t look at me with those eyes!”

Don’t look like this is something unrelated and unimportant to you.

“Please…look at me.”

Yuki realized the inconsistency in what she was saying. But she didn’t want to be seen. But if they didn’t look at her, she felt as if she would lose sense of her own existence.

“Hey?” The moment the word slipped from her lips, fire burned at the area near her heart. The flames spread in the blink of an eye and burned Yuki’s chest as her torturers applied the brand to her flesh again.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!”

She fell limp against her shackles writhing from the pain, but the eyes watching her never changed. The throbbing searing pain that turned numb in her chest pierced all the way to her heart. The fire slowly sizzled her skin, engraving some sort of flower bud into her flesh with each petal they burned in separately. Burning away one spot wasn’t enough for them. They needed to press each petal-shaped brand into her flesh until the flower bloomed.

Yuki welcomed the peace of oblivion; unconsciousness had never been so sweet.

***

YUKI woke in shock. Her heart beat at an unnatural rate.

…A dream?

She was sweating from every part of her body. Her clothes clung with a vengeance to her clammy flesh. She tried to sit up, but a pain like an electrical current surged in her chest, sending a series of sharp spasms through her body forcing her to stay lying down. A blistered flower bud was burned into her chest: it was red and swollen from the repeated use of the brand.

I wonder what kind of flower it’s supposed to be. Does every Witch have a seal in the shape of a flower like this one?

Yuki slowly attempted to sit up a second time and let out a long, painful breath. Her throat prickled with pain and dryness. She tried to speak, but only a hoarse, rough breath made it through her sore and parched throat. The coppery tang of blood told her she had bitten the tip of her tongue when she screamed her lungs out; letting her know just how painful it was to have a part of your body burned and branded.

Yuki felt feverish. It was clear as day the feverish heat came from the burns on her chest.

I miss the cold; I want the chill of ice to bring my wounds comfort. The flesh around the burns was oozing. Where am I?

Yuki took in her surroundings—she was in a very stark yet normal room. She was lying on a bed and a small table sat beside it. The room was nothing like the prison cells she saw in Cele’s dungeons.

How long was I tortured for? How many times did I lose consciousness when they started burning me with the branding iron? This should be the place Orga brought me afterward. So then why is this a proper room and not a prison? What exactly is going to happen to me?

The intense pain weighed heavily on her mind, leaving her in a sort of blank daze.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Yuki nervously looked at the door. A nasty sweat covered her hands when she thought about what kind of terrible things they planned for her this time.

I can’t take anymore. I don’t want to feel any more pain. I don’t want to see Orga or anyone else. I want to go home. Tears moistened the edge of her eyes, but no matter what she would not show weakness to her tormentors.

The door must have been locked from the outside, because she heard a key turn in the lock and the handle turn before someone cautiously opened the door. In stepped—

Maruk’s prince.

The young man with long light-blue hair appeared with a bucket and a water pitcher. He walked in a daze until he noticed Yuki was awake. He stopped for a moment. But his light-blue eyes, which reflected no discernible emotion, neither clouded nor lightened at the sight of her. He merely walked over to the bed she was sitting on without hesitation.

Yuki inched away from him on the bed; the fabric sent shooting pains through the flesh rubbed raw by the shackles. Still she moved away until her back impacted the wall. With nowhere to go, she clung to the wall. Maruk’s prince paid her no heed. He placed the bucket on the table next to her bed and silently pulled a cup and cloth out of it. He poured water into the cup and dumped some into the bucket.

What does he intend to do? Yuki stared at the prince. He suddenly held the cup out to her.

“Eh…” Yuki’s hoarse voice didn’t sound like a voice, more like the growl of a beast. She stared at Maruk’s prince in bewilderment.

“Water,” he muttered.

So he can speak.

She was a little surprised he could speak, though she wasn’t sure whether she preferred him as a mute or not. Not once had he opened his mouth until now. His eyes were still gazing into some distant place. He stood there with the cup held out to her, not particularly minding or reveling in her fear of him. The sudden presence of water before her eyes further increased her desire to quench her parched throat.

But is it really just water?

How could she believe him? This man watched on in the same absentminded daze the whole time the branding iron was pressed against her skin. He stood there watching as she came in and out of consciousness and the branding iron was reheated and applied repeatedly.

I wonder whether he’d even hesitate to kill.

But her throat was dreadfully dry. She gulped back what little saliva came up in anticipation of soothing water.

“……”

The prince must have noticed Yuki was only staring at the cup and what she was thinking, because he brought the cup to his lips and took a sip before offering it to her again.

“It’s just water,” he informed her matter-of-factly, in an almost toneless voice.

He was neither saddened nor angered by her suspicion—he was just indifferent and matter-of-fact about all of it. Yuki hesitantly reached for the cup. She gulped all the contents in one large sip. Chilled water surged down her burning throat.

She coughed, but forced the water down, each sip bringing long-needed relief. Yuki drank every cup he offered her afterward. The prince watched her expressionlessly. After one more cup he began dipping a cloth in the water he poured into the bucket. He squeezed out the excess liquid and handed it to Yuki.

“…?” Yuki didn’t understand his gesture.

“You can apply this to the burns.”

“What?” Her eyes grew large.

Why? Why is this man being considerate after everything he has done?

He looked like nothing more than a disconnected person who seemed neither inclined to kindness nor hatred. Yet he was being genuinely kind to her.

Unable to endure the prickling pain any longer, she took the wet cloth and pressed it against her burns. She hissed at the touch. The cool wet towel provided desperate relief against the burning heat of her wounds.

“The day of your execution has been decided.”

“Huh?”

Execution. That was what he just said, right?

“It has been set for ten days from today—on the evening of the new moon. The official notice was sent out this morning. The news will make it to the front lines in about three to four days from now,” the young man informed Yuki, with the emotion of an unmoving stone.