Devan looked puzzled. I smiled bitterly as I thought of the oath I had secretly sworn to Cordelia.
Even if I take everything else, I swear that I will give her as much as Devan, the main character of this novel, to her.
And yet, he couldn’t even remember her name.
“It’s okay if you can’t remember…..”
Devan’s brow wrinkled, but he finally seemed to remember.
“You mean that girl. The sick girl who was in the temple?”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Why that girl? Don’t tell me you feel pity for her?”
“I guess it’s more like guilt than pity. “
“Why?”
“It might be my fault that she’s sick. No, it’s my fault.”
Because if I hadn’t even twisted the original story, she would have escaped the temple by now and be living happily ever after with Devan. When I ran away from the Grand Duchy, I had the easy idea that somehow Devan and Cordelia would meet.
They really were doomed by the prophecy. They were also the protagonists of the original story that somehow had to be connected.
But in the end, they still hadn’t met. I was responsible for that.
“I feel guilty.”
Devan gave a small laugh.
I looked at him with a strange look on my face.
“Someone told me. Hating yourself will only consume you. It won’t help you, so get rid of those feelings and look for a solution instead.”
“…Who?”
Instead of answering, he leaned closer to me.
I flinched back at the sudden closeness of his face.
“It’s these eyes.”
A black shape flickered in his right eye, but it wasn’t the one he was pointing at.
“When I was only ten years old, I was cursed. I slept for a night and woke up blind. It was for that bloody qualification test that was held to select the successor.”
That was what he said, but just by hearing his voice or looking at expression, he didn’t seem to be angry or depressed at the fact.
“At first I resented my brother. What if he hadn’t had the sign, no, what if he hadn’t been born first, and so I had been the only heir to the throne. I had that thought.”
His voice trailed off.
I could tell easily that he was bringing up a difficult story.
“After that I hated the country and the system. Why does such a qualification exam exist, then it was the temple, the priests, then it was God. —Who do you think I resented in the end?”
“Yourself…?”
“Yes.”
Devan’s gaze turned to the window.
His eyes reflected the fast passing scenery.
His emotions were swirling.
“Do you regret it?”
“No, I don’t regret it.”
“You don’t?”
“I’m still hating myself. My existence, my birth, even my terrible fate.”
I bit my lips.
I couldn’t get the words out, as if it was caught in my throat.
It was the same thought I had every night.
Why was I born with immense divine power, why did I remember my previous life, why did I have to sacrifice Cordelia and cheat Devan to survive?
My existence, my birth, my terrible fate….
I was constantly hating myself, and I was the same way.
“So—.”
Taking his eyes off the window, he looked at me this time.
“I know what it’s like to hate yourself………”
Devan’s eyelashes quivered.
He smiled bitterly, frowning as if he couldn’t help it.
“I can’t tell you not to do it, but just do it in moderation. It’s as much as you can bear.”
Finishing his story, he dropped his gaze again on the papers in his lap as if he was signaling me not to talk to him this time. I just stared at him in silence.
I wondered if he regretted saying this much.
He must have lived through unimaginable pain and suffering.
Moderately, only as much as you can afford.
The more I thought about it, the more my heart thumped.
Anger? Sadness? No, this was frustration.
The birth, the existence, the terrible fate… it wasn’t what we all wanted or deserved. It wasn’t our fault.
Devan was right.
We didn’t need to hate and gnaw at ourselves. We had to let go of any feelings of remorse and instead find a solution.
Our resentment had to be directed outward, not in.
***
The carriage ride was boring. The pleasure of admiring the scenery was fleeting.
I dozed at the window, reading the useless books the wizards had given me, and glanced at Devan’s papers.
“Stay still.”
He couldn’t stand it so he said a few words.
It was almost the tenth hour in the carriage alone.
So far, Devan had only examined the documents without raising his head. It wasn’t me who was strange, it was him.
I said, turning my sore neck.
“I thought you said we’d sleep in the village?”
“Yes. We’ll be there soon.”
He glanced at the window.
I hurried to look out the window, but all I could see were still trees and sky.
“Soon is….”
“Well, one more hour.”
An hour. There was no doubt that Devan had a problem with his sense of time.