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“Valentin! I asked what you're doing!”
“As you can see, I am fleeing for my life. If possible, please do not set foot in this area again. I was just in the middle of planning a world tour to accompany Your Highness, so I won't be returning for several years. Still, as a precaution, let me warn you... do not keep that thing close. You must not try to find it. In particular, offering naive prayers such as ‘Ivan and Tanya want to meet Larisa’ without any sense of crisis is strictly forbidden.”
Perhaps noticing his anxiety, Larisa, who had been quiet for a moment, cautiously spoke.
“Did your curse... start from that prayer?”
Valentin's stride, which had been brisk, slowed down just a fraction.
“I know. I heard that this statue was displayed in front of the Imperial Palace the year I was born. Did you offer that prayer on that day?”
“I do not know.”
In the first place, you weren't even born on that day.
All Valentin had done was recall the faces of the three siblings while at a place where one prays for the repose of the dead. It was a mere recollection, barely enough to be called a prayer or a wish; it was nothing more than a mutter.
Yet, the jewel of prophecy chose Valentin.
“I truly do not know. No matter how much I think about it, I cannot find the reason. Did God grant my prayer? Why was it me of all people?”
He had never heard the voice of God. He only felt it. A transcendental power that defied easy definition did not permit Valentin's death.
In his previous life, he had spent a great deal of time in the holy hall to uncover the source of this curse placed upon him. At the age of five, after finding records that the Statue of Roo had stayed at the Imperial Palace, he gathered all available information regarding the jewel of prophecy.
Valentin also focused on the existence of the jewel of prophecy.
In the Diary of Roo, not a single sentence mentioned an experience similar to the regression Valentin had undergone. Though Roo was called the progenitor of the Prophets, the diary he left behind did not even vaguely describe what prophecy was, how it was received, or what could be seen.
Valentin, conversely, viewed that point with great care.
All past Prophets had flaunted their prophecies. They used them as tools to maintain power, and that excessive greed eventually became the cause of their ruin.
However, Roo did not flaunt prophecy. He merely left behind a diary containing his philosophy and simple daily life, and a crude statue to look over the unfortunate, allowing the world to behold them.
The only prophecy Roo left for future generations was the jewel of prophecy. Perhaps it wasn't Roo himself, but the jewel of prophecy that had been looking over the unfortunate.
The jewel had vanished suddenly.
And today, the day Valentin's hell ended, it returned, having lost its light.
Why had it been Valentin?
“It wasn't even a particularly desperate prayer. I didn't even want to know the future. You know, I am not a Prophet chosen by God. Whether a Prophet or a Savior, they are nothing more than illusions and tools I created to protect myself. From beginning to end, I am merely a liar, unworthy of awe.”
Before he knew it, he had stopped walking.
A pair of eyes looked up at his face, standing tall upon the earth. A sympathy imbued with unwavering trust and affection seemed to brush against Valentin's cheek.
“But Valentin. You saved the lives of nearly ten thousand people. No, perhaps you saved even more than that.”
Comforted by that distinct warmth, Valentin focused all his attention on Larisa's voice.
“The people who were nearly drowned by the great flood in the Kingdom of Cherensko and the Kingdom of Oblonsky, the children who were nearly sacrificed to the greed of adults in Makhachkala, the believers who regained their will because of you. You saved them all with your own hands. If someone like you cannot be called a Savior, then who on earth could possibly be one?”
Larisa gently rested her cheek against his chest.
“God didn't choose you, Valentin. God simply recognized you. He must have known that saving so many people was a great task that only you could achieve. He knew that you would overcome all hardships and adversity and eventually succeed. Just like at this moment!”
Jumping down from Valentin's arms, Larisa praised him with beautifully sparkling eyes.
“No one can look down on you. Not even yourself. I will absolutely not allow it. So, Valentin, continue to stay in that place as the Savior.”
At the confident command, Valentin smiled with a face that looked as nonchalant as possible. He had no choice but to smile. Larisa's presence was as dazzling as the sun, making him want to turn away, but he endured it somehow. He wanted to imprint the Larisa of this moment into his eyes. Entirely, within his world.
“...You are the first person to say such things to me. And you will be the only one. Because no one in the world will ever know our secret.”
Larisa smiled shyly.
“Am I being included in that grand secret?”
“It is a secret that cannot exist without Your Highness.”
He felt disgusted with himself.
Valentin had not saved the world. On the contrary, he had ignored the despair of many. God recognized him? Nonsense! That cruel plunderer was a being who, not content with a curse, sought to take away even Larisa—the only one Valentin had.
God had neither chosen nor recognized Valentin. Salvation was nothing more than a byproduct created in the process of realizing the desire for survival. It was not a motive worthy of respect in the slightest.
But perhaps Larisa didn't need to know that?
No, he hoped she would never know. He loved the kind comfort she gave, and yes, he loved the moments they exchanged affectionate glances as if they only had each other, just as they did now...
However, the fact that Larisa was the only person he could be honest with brought a deep sense of relief and, simultaneously, a terrible frustration. It was the absolute bottom of his soul that he never wanted her to discover, yet whenever he stood before her, he found himself reciting it like a confession without realizing it.
It was all Larisa's fault. This was all her fault. Her blame. Her. She...
Valentin loved her—Larisa—so truly, so madly, that he felt he might die.
“Valentin?”
What's wrong? Why are you crying? He tightly grasped the hand that reached out in urgency and, while kissing her warm fingers, poured out the language of his heart.
“I love you, Your Highness.”
It was an unbearable sincerity. Feeling an intense tremor as if he had reached the end of the world, Valentin buried his face in Larisa's fingers, in her very existence.
“I am nothing without you. It may be unbelievable, but it is the truth. I love you. Please stay in this world with me forever. Actually, I know why God covets you. Even knowing, I can never allow it. I am no Savior. I am nothing without you...”
It was a plea that sounded pathetic and even chilling, even to his own ears.
But why?
Larisa smiled.
Larisa wore a smile clearer than ever before, like someone who had finally achieved a long-cherished wish. That pure smile was holy and merciful enough to embrace even an impious man. The woman was no longer a child. She was the wall he could lean on, the pillar that would support him, and the roof that would cover him.
“Yes. That is exactly the best confession and the most wonderful proposal I ever wanted, Valentin.”
Larisa, shining like the sun, embraced Valentin. Drawn by the light, holding the light fully in his arms, he kissed her with agitated emotion. He could feel Larisa's happy laughter blooming from the lips that touched his. It was an ecstatic beauty that could not be compared to the zinnia he had offered her.
Only then did Valentin realize.
Finally, everything had ended.
No, finally, everything was beginning.
He did not know what existed at the end of this road. The future was blurred, and a fifth life did not exist.
Nevertheless, Valentin took his first step toward the path. The future, which had remained stationary for so long that dust had piled up in layers, finally opened its first page.
Because it was the beginning he had long anticipated, it was an introduction that was all the more trembling and fluttering.
WYL 131 END
Ten days later.
Deep within the garden, where the colors were ripening into a reddish-yellow, a rugged carriage—unbecoming of the Imperial Palace—clattered inside.
The moment I confirmed the noisy arrival of the old carriage, I grabbed my lightest suitcase and bolted from the room. Behind me, Fedora shouted, “Your Highness, please don’t run, you’ll fall!” but far from slowing down, my pace only quickened.
“Huff, huff.”
As I stood before the carriage, breathing heavily, the door opened.
Valentin, who was just about to step down, looked at my face and gave a helpless smile.
“You are quite excited.”
“I am.”
“Your eyes look hollow; perhaps you tossed and turned in your sleep?”
“Exactly!”
“I clearly told you to preserve your strength for a long journey...”
“I don’t know about that. Fedora! Hurry down and help check the luggage!”
Before long, the servants descended one by one and loaded the suitcases onto the back of the carriage. Five, six, seven... how many were there in total? As I counted along with Fedora, I spotted a single bag sitting lonely amidst the mountain of my own luggage.
“...Valentin.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t tell me that’s your only bag?”
“It is.”
I was utterly shocked.
How could this be? He intended to handle food and lodging for such a long period with just one bag?
It was unbelievable. However, Valentin was the most learned intellectual I knew, having experienced the widest variety of things across the vastest lands; if I couldn't trust him, I couldn't trust anyone.
After much deliberation, I commanded the servants.
“Stop! Take them off. All of them. I’ll take one... no, one is a bit too much... two! I’ll only take two!”
Watching me, Valentin let out a small sigh.
“There is no need to overdo it, Your Highness. You have already reduced your load significantly. Normally, four carriages would have to follow, but you’ve managed to condense everything into just ten bags.”
“No, two is the right number. I thought about it, and in the worst-case scenario, I need to be able to carry one bag in each hand. Who knows if there will be a moment I have to flee during the journey?”
“That will not happen. I, and of course the driver of this carriage, will protect Your Highness with our lives.”
Chenko, sitting in the driver's seat, chimed in with a drawling voice.
“Yeees... of course. Murder is my hobby and specialty, after all.”
At Valentin's persuasion, I stared at the two bags I had whittled down to as a final resort.
“Then...”
“...”
“Let’s make it three. Valentin, you have a free hand too, right?”
Just as Valentin shook his head with a smile.
A familiar call reached me from behind.
“Lara.”
Recognizing the owner of the voice, I opened my arms wide and jumped into his embrace. With a tender smile, he patted my back and let out a sigh mixed with concern.
“I can’t believe it. That you’ve grown so much that you’re leaving this older brother behind to go on a journey.”
“Yeah, I also...”
“And that your companion is Count Valentin, of all people.”
“Right, I can’t believe it either.”
“I understand your feelings for Valentin, but do not trust him too much.”
“I got it.”
“Always remember Tanya’s words. There are many men in the world for you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You certainly say those things boldly with the party concerned right in front of you.”
After leaving a deep kiss on Vasily’s cheek, I took Valentin’s hand. He easily helped me up into the carriage and asked quietly.
“I understand that the two Majesties have left for a while to recuperate. But Princess Tatyana and Prince Ivan...”
“Ivan spent the whole dawn in my room nagging and chatting about how I was making a fuss over a mere trip before he fell asleep, and Tanya is already there.”
“Already there?”
“At our first destination. She said she’s too worried and needs to check my face every now and then to satisfy her curiosity.”
I comforted Valentin, who looked exhausted.
“Isn't it better that she's not coming along?”
“That is true.”
The door closed, and the two black horses guiding us slowly began to step forward.
As I opened the window, the cool late-autumn breeze pierced deep into my chest. Leaning my upper body out, I waved my hand vigorously.
“I’ll be back, Vasily! Stay healthy and well, Fedora too! I’ll send a postcard as soon as I arrive. Don’t forget to read it! Give my regards to Emma and Oksana!”
The two figures waving back gradually grew distant.
The emotion of that moment was difficult to put into words. If described in colors, it was like a cloudy grey sky, or like the transparent surface of a summer river. I felt longing and regret, yet excitement and joy.
“Be careful, Your Highness. We are now leaving the Imperial Palace.”
At those words, I closed the window.
Leaning back against the seat, I opened my bag and took out one of the postcards I had carefully stacked.
A postcard depicting the apple blossom street of Oblonsky.
This place was also our final destination, which we would reach next spring. On the day of the coming-of-age ceremony, the square of Oblonsky, crowded with merchants selling apple blossoms, looked vibrant and bustling. To think I would actually go to this place from the postcard Valentin sent with his letter.
“Valentin.”
He, who had been looking at the postcard with me with his head bowed, quietly lifted his face. Meeting those beautiful turquoise eyes, I questioned him with a deliberately stern expression.
“Tell me honestly.”
“About what?”
“The Head of Libertan. You weren't actually planning to bring it, were you?”
A question that had occasionally surfaced over the past few days.
Was that bizarre rumor regarding Libertan's head truly just a baseless rumor?
Ivan had always been prone to exaggeration, but Tatyana was not. Of course, Tatyana could get excited occasionally, but Vasily was the exception. Vasily was always extremely rational and did not rely on circumstantial evidence. This meant there was clear evidence that warranted him coming to visit me out of concern.
And...
“Was it really true that there was no letter from Igor?”
Thinking about it again, it was strange.
Even though I hadn't known Igor for long, it was easy to see that he was as calm and meticulous as Vasily. For someone like him to reject me and yet expect or hope for something from me made no sense.
Valentin closed his eyes and leaned against my shoulder. Folding his large frame into the small carriage, he answered in a voice brimming with leisure.
“Every time I see this side of Your Highness, I am greatly relieved that I am sane.”
“You’ve always been sane, Valentin.”
“Yes, if I weren't sane, I would have delivered both the letter and the head to Your Highness, saying they were all well.”
What is that? So it means my suspicions were all correct?
“You shameless...”
“It is too late to realize it now. Your Highness is now destined to take the shameless and mean Count Valentin as your husband. If you are angry, please look at my face and forgive me.”
“Even so, taking the letter was too much. That’s not polite toward Igor, Valentin. Have you already forgotten that you were the one who taught me the etiquette of exchanging letters?”
“I took it because I hadn't forgotten. It was obvious it would have dragged on needlessly, wasn't it?”
I pouted and turned my gaze out the window. But Valentin, if I were you, I wouldn't have used such a petty trick. As planned, I would have presented the head of Libertan as a gift... ah, no. After delivering the political rival's letter, I would have fought tooth and nail to change their heart.
But what was the point of nagging now? The fact that Valentin was a petty coward would not change.
“Once we leave Ohala, I’m going to buy lots of postcards no matter where we arrive.”
“Shall we?”
“I want to try camping at night. Preferably somewhere bears don't come out.”
“And then?”
“This is for a bit later, but I want to make as many friends as possible and invite them to the wedding next spring.”
“What kind of friends do you want to make?”
“Girlfriends like Emma or Oksana. I'll make ten, no, a hundred, and then I'll take a commemorative photo or painting with just my friends...”
Leaning my head against Valentin's, I recited one by one the wish list I had written in my notebook over the past few nights.
The wheels of the carriage turned incessantly. Since some time, it had become a sound far more exciting than the ticking of a second hand. We stood upon a path that could never be wrong, becoming each other's compass.
Finally, it feels real.
I am finally holding Valentin's hand and moving toward the future.
To a place where his god cannot find us.
To the heaven furthest from hell.
Far, far away...
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