The Terminally Ill Hero’s Husband is the Demon King - Chapter 1.4
“It would be disappointing if it were your last. I want you to survive for a long, long time and protect my children and grandchildren, too.”
“You are quite greedy, Your Majesty.”
At words that were no different from a curse, Gillian shuddered. Seeing him squeeze his eyes shut and grip one trembling shoulder to calm himself, Iris smiled. It was a pity that Yuers’s hero was so cute and lovable, yet there was still no one to claim him and love him.
Even as his king, she felt ashamed, wondering if she had failed to find a fine companion for the greatest hero. It was also a shame that the blood of genius swordsmen passed down from Gillian’s maternal grandfather to his mother seemed likely to end with Gillian’s generation.
Since he was over forty, he could retire, settle down, and live a comfortable life if he wished, but the middle-aged hero was still alone in his youth.
Gillian refused Iris’s offer to rest at the palace for even a few days before leaving. In the past, he would have pretended to be unable to refuse, lounged about in the palace while enjoying a fine bedroom, and leisurely indulged in liquor and food so delicious it could bring tears to one’s eyes.
These days, however, Gillian was impatient in a way unlike himself. Before he closed his eyes, he wanted to see a few more places and travel even a little more. Because Iris seemed to understand his heart, she did not try to hold him back a second time.
“If that is how you are, then my heart will ache, so at least dye your hair before you leave. No, I’ll have the attendants do it for you. Who knows, that might be the way to break the curse.”
“I’m alright. It’s bothersome, and…”
“You talk too much. Someone, take Sir Gillian away at once and make him beautiful. Make him so glittering that even the Demon King will fall for him and covet him.”
“Your Majesty!”
“Gillian, even if you fail to subjugate him, don’t let it weigh too heavily on your heart. I’ll gratefully make use of the time you bought me.”
After the audience ended, Gillian was dragged away by the attendants. Only after they dyed all his white hair black, bathed him, and dressed him in new clothes bestowed by Iris was he finally released.
He tried to see Iris and bid her farewell, but Iris indirectly refused, saying she was busy and telling him to return first. In her heart, perhaps, was the notion that farewells were ill-omened, so he should not give one, and that he must survive and come back.
Gillian took a carriage back to his residence inside the royal capital. It was a chilly house that showed signs of its master having been away for a long time. He lit a fire to bring warmth to the place, then removed the cloths that had been draped over the chairs and bed to keep dust from settling.
A middle-aged man named Telly came to Gillian’s house once or twice a month to look after it. He owed Gillian a life debt after Gillian had helped him. Thanks to that, Gillian left the house unattended without worry.
Telly would come by from time to time, sweep away the dust, drive out insects, and light a fire to warm the house. In summer, he cleared the grass in the front yard, and in winter, he shoveled the snow. Even so, a house without anyone living in it dried up and grew worn with each passing year.
The space, covered entirely in white cloths, had now become embarrassing to call a home, and was no different from a sparse storage room. At times, Gillian would find a good lodging house or inn and sleep there instead. It felt good to lie down in a place that was clean and warm, where the sounds of people could be heard.
However, when preparing for battle, he wondered if there could be any place more comfortable than this. Gillian thought his house resembled him. Just like himself, who took the shape of a person yet could not properly imitate one, his house took the shape of a home yet served some other purpose.
Though it was only natural, in a way, for a house to resemble its owner, Gillian found it strange. Only when he lay in this desolate place with his arms and legs sprawled out did he feel as if he was finally resting. Gillian thought of nothing and drifted off to sleep.
Gillian woke early the next day, packed lightly, and left the house. As he walked to the city gate, he took in the sights of Yuers’s capital. Would he be able to pass through that gate and return again?
Gillian bought breakfast at a restaurant. After carefully preparing dried food and sweets to eat as snacks, he rented a horse at the post station.
“Let’s go. Good girl. Giddyup! Hyah!”
The horse pushed powerfully off the ground, and he swiftly moved away from the royal capital, then reached Gray Mountain.
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