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May Every Wound Be Fatal - Chapter 28.2

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  2. May Every Wound Be Fatal
  3. Chapter 28.2
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All Elizer wanted was to know her name. He swore that would be enough. It would satisfy him.

Her large eyes blinked in surprise, and for a moment, a mischievous smile spread across her face. Elizer, embarrassed, had not yet reacted.

“Try to guess.”

An unexpected reply came.

“…Excuse me?”

“I know who you are.”

At that moment, a flurry of thoughts surged through him. Elizer realized what the people of the court called him.

The shame of the royal family, the child of a woman of unknown origin, someone who could not even have a name.

‘I was careless. I never imagined my face would be known as well…’

Regret, embarrassment, and a tinge of shame left him unable to respond.

She clasped her hands behind her back and took a step closer, curling the corner of her eyes toward his nose. Elizer’s mind went blank as he wondered what that smile meant.

“We will meet again.”

She whispered it.

At that moment, a strong wind blew through, shaking his hair, his eyes, his entire body, and his soul.

Her smile deepened slightly, and Elizer could not take his eyes off her for even a moment.

“By then, you will know who I am.”

She turned and walked away. Elizer watched her retreating figure, feeling a flutter in his chest he had never experienced before.

Even after she disappeared completely, he remained standing there for a long while.

***

Since that night, Elizer’s mind was filled entirely with thoughts of the maid he had met by chance in the king’s rear garden.

He wanted to believe her words that they would meet again. Yet, he never saw her again.

As time passed, his longing grew. Once the jousting tournament ended, he would have to return to the southern isles, and she remained a court maid.

Even then, he did not hope for much. He only wanted, vaguely, to see her one more time.

But with the jousting tournament approaching, it was difficult to leave during the day.

Late at night, when everyone was asleep, he tried lingering near the rear garden again, but only the patrolling guards passed by.

When he mustered courage to ask a passing court maid, she only replied that she had never seen such a maid.

He felt as if he were bewitched. With his mind elsewhere, he made frequent mistakes, as if a screw were loose.

“Elizer! Where are you off daydreaming?”

During practice for the jousting tournament, Martin finally shouted at him when Elizer nearly fell from his horse.

“Damn it. Don’t worry about rumors. Focus!”

Martin, believing Elizer had been discouraged by humiliating rumors, was quite frustrated.

“……”

Elizer could not tell Martin that he almost fell from his horse while following the fluttering blue hem.

He was ashamed of how he kept forgetting his own position, yet he could not stop thinking about her.

Secretly, he wandered the palace looking for her. Yet time passed mercilessly, and the day of the jousting tournament arrived without him finding her.

The long rectangular arena was packed with people, and the horn blasts and cheers reverberated throughout his body. Amidst this chaotic scene, Elizer habitually searched for the blue hem.

“Elizer!”

His turn was approaching. Snap out of it, he told himself. He put on his black helmet and mounted his horse at the far end of the arena.

Noel Briere approached to give a reminder.

“Do not defeat Prince Tiberian’s rider, Elizer.”

The jousting tournament was a kind of staged performance. Its purpose was to entertain the king while maintaining the princes’ authority by prearranging victories and defeats.

Elizer nodded. Noel opened his lips as if to say something more, but eventually only tapped his arm silently.

Then, the illegitimate son of King Bailion, who had only been the subject of rumors, finally appeared in the arena as Prince Cassian’s rider. The noisy crowd immediately fell silent.

Elizer took a small, deep breath and guided his horse slowly toward the seats where elegant ladies were gathered.

Curious and disdainful gazes, the faint rustling like insects nibbling at his ears, followed him wherever he went. These sensations were difficult to get used to.

Finally, standing before the ladies, Elizer removed his helmet.

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    May Every Wound Be Fatal

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