----------------------------------------------------------------- Translator: Harry Potta Chapter: 120 Chapter Title: Fractured Dreams and Apologies ----------------------------------------------------------------- "I've lived in the temple since I was very little. Everyone was kind, but it felt like being a princess...
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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 120
Chapter Title: Fractured Dreams and Apologies
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"I've lived in the temple since I was very little. Everyone was kind, but it felt like being a princess locked in a tower. I couldn't go outside. Now that everything around me has turned out to be lies, I'm scared, Sir Nina."
It was a whispering voice. Her slender shoulders trembled.
Beautiful light green eyes brimming with tears stared straight at me. She looked like a frightened little animal, so I gently reached out and patted her back.
"It's okay, Fiona. Anyone can stand on their own two feet."
"What about people without legs?"
"...... Metaphorically speaking."
"Ah."
Fiona nodded.
"It would be easier if there was someone to help until you can stand. Saintess, it's not the entire temple, right? There's High Priest Ashton too......"
"I'm scared. I'm such a coward—I want to beg someone to protect me. But if I end up dying like Edgar, like Ed-Edgar-!"
"Saintess, that's-"
I opened my mouth to speak, but the tent flap lifted and Randell entered. He held a bouquet in his hand.
I had no idea where he'd found flowers amid this war, but it was a modest bunch of wildflowers.
"Sir Nina......"
Randell bowed deeply at the entrance, his voice nearly dead.
"I'm sorry. I was wrong."
"Randell."
I beckoned him closer. As he approached cautiously, I smiled and said,
"Take off your glasses and apologize."
"Pardon?"
His eyes widened behind his lenses. Fiona jumped to her feet in surprise as well.
"Si-Sir Nina-."
I asked Fiona, who was trying to intervene, to step out for a moment. She hesitated but left the tent.
Randell stared at me and asked,
"Should I apologize without my glasses?"
"The one who hurt me was Randell without his glasses."
"I don't know."
"Don't talk about yourself like he's someone else."
"......"
Randell sighed and removed his glasses. The moment he did, his tone shifted.
"You insolent little orphan bitch-."
'Oh.'
"Demanding an apology? Telling me to take off my glasses? Who do you think you are, ordering people around?"
"The victim."
"An idiot who can't even dodge that calls herself a spiritist and comes to the battlefield—that's why we're in this mess."
Randell reached out and grabbed my hair. The burned part pulled taut, stinging with pain.
"Apology? Don't make me laugh."
"Why are you always so angry?"
"What?"
I stared into his dark blue eyes and asked again.
"Why are you always so angry?"
Randell let out a bizarre laugh—"Ha-"—and slammed my head down onto the bed.
Ow, that really hurts.
"Why? Like that dumb saintess bitch, you gonna take care of my mental health too?"
"Hmm, I'm an injured woman here, and I'm only using fists? Hitting me with magic would be kinda unfair, don't you think?"
"What?"
I grabbed the wrist clutching my hair and yanked hard. Then I punched his approaching face with my other fist.
"?!"
I spat on the staggering Randell from the impact and stood up from the bed, limping.
"Come at me, you bastard."
The fistfight ended anticlimactically in my victory.
Randell lay collapsed on the floor, nose bleeding profusely, panting raggedly. His bruises would surely show by tomorrow.
"Feel better now?"
Randell spat, "Getting hit? You feel better."
I shrugged.
"Still better than the first time, right? Sometimes you just gotta let it all out."
I offered my hand to help him up, but he yanked my arm hard.
Ah, sneaky.
I thought an attack was coming, but instead I just collapsed on top of him. I barely kept our faces from smashing together.
"......Do it."
"Pardon? I can't hear you. Louder."
"......Won't do it."
"Why do you keep whispering?"
"I'm sorry!"
The great sorcerer yelling with a beet-red face was both comical and a little heartbreaking.
"Why are you doing this outside?"
Ah, the Rubaenu Duke.
"Ah, inside, Randell and Sir Nina......"
The sniffling saintess.
As I was about to say we were fine now, the tent flap opened and the Rubaenu Duke entered.
His face hardened rigidly.
"What in the world-."
Nina opened her eyes.
A dark ceiling came into view.
Where am I?
Which one was the dream?
"Nina."
The voice that reached her was calm and steady. Nina turned her gaze to find Adrian looking down at her.
The Adrian I know.
'Hold my hand.'
Her head felt blank. No words came out. Her fingers merely twitched, but as if understanding, Adrian gripped her hand tightly.
"You okay? Want some water?"
"A-Adrian-."
Calling his name brought a flood of tears.
What do I do?
What if this weird dream changes me in some strange way?
She kept recalling the events from when she was five. Back then, memories from another world had crashed over her like a tidal wave—how much she'd suffered.
It had taken a full year of fighting to claim victory. She'd even hurt her older sister and brother in the process.
Compared to then, she was older now with a stronger sense of self, but the fear was still unavoidable.
What if these relentless dreams eventually devoured her?
What if Adrian turned into nothing more than the 'Rubaenu Duke' like in the dream?
What if she ended up yelling that she had no family, failing to recognize Adrian?
What if she screamed that he wasn't her Adrian?
It might be something she'd normally laugh off, but the pain dragged her weak side bubbling to the surface.
Anxious, fragile, helpless feelings swelled and overflowed.
"Nina, does it hurt? Rest—I'll call Kiril."
"No. Don't go."
Nina gripped his hand tightly. Tears streamed down her temples, dripping away.
"I-I dreamed. What if I forget Adrian? What if I, again, sob, ugh-."
"Nina."
Adrian squeezed her hand.
"I'll remember for you. I'll stay by your side. I you."
Adrian peered into her eyes.
He said clearly, word by word,
"I'll never let you go."
A long while later, he added with a sigh,
"Nina, unless you want me to let go."
That was so like him that Nina chuckled and squeezed his hand back.
"Don't let go, Adrian. Never let me go. Don't let me drift away......"
Hold me tight,
in dreams,
in memories,
so I never lose my way.
Her heart calmed, and sleep returned.
"It's what I want to say."
Adrian's whispering voice.
The warmth of his tightly clasped hand was vivid.
Haah, a sigh of relief escaped, and Nina fell asleep again.
And dreamed once more.
"C-Come to think of it, Sir Nina always has short hair. It's cool. Is it because you're a knight?"
At Fiona's words, I awkwardly rubbed the back of my head and said,
"I don't remember my childhood. Not sure of the details, but I was attacked by a Belak, and the shock must've wiped my memories."
Fiona's eyes widened.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know......"
"No, it's in the past. Hmm, but my hair was already short back when I had memories. So maybe my family cut it like this. That's why I keep it this way. Hoping, maybe, my memories might come back."
I finished and gave a small smile.
"But what kind of family cuts a little girl's hair this short? Probably no love there."
"No way! Maybe it got cut later!"
Fiona raised her voice sharply.
"You think?"
Was I loved too?
What were my family like?
I wish I could remember.
But it scared me. What if my family was the one who sold me?
"I had a family when I was little too!"
Fiona raised her voice. I turned to look.
"My mother remarried, but my stepfather tried to sell me off. High Priest Ashton saved me from being sold."
"I see."
"I grew up in the temple orphanage like real siblings with Sir Edgar. And...... and...... Lucrezia."
"Pardon?"
"Ah, no. There was a friend named Lucrezia in the orphanage......"
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