48 [10] Memory

In the room after returning the samurai, Berta fell preoccupied with the idea by herself while continuing to pay.

All the attitudes I showed in front of Lisa remained intact, and it wasn't Berta's unwrapped authenticity.

(wonder what I'm doing)

My own position pushed up, and the view I'd never seen before spread out in front of me, and every day is just glaring.

What Berta is feeling now was not exhilarating.

Responsibility overweighed by status and awareness that must be changed by position.

Berta had to protect the Kasha clan, the living family, but she didn't want to completely deceive the royal family either.

We are supposed to face a lot sooner than we could have imagined on the occasion that those interests are not in conflict.

(I wish moving for Kasha would be for the royal family too)

I remember my mother a lot these days.

Since Berta was a young girl, at least my mother wasn't clearly her birth house, she was a person for Kasha.

I'm sure the right attitude is that. Berta knows by looking at her parents that she should be a man of the house.

It was just not a matter of simple comparison.

Sustaining Kasha's authority is the best idea in bringing the South together as a unit and leading it to prosperity. That was an unquestionable fact from the eyes of Berta, who lived in the south.

But in the first place, does the center want further prosperity in the south?

One house called Kasha has too much power, so it can be a threat to the royal family.

The center might have thought that it was to rewind the south into an era of small nations hanging out with each other, subdivide it and try to cut it apart.

Harold will surely always make the right choice as a king.

Just which way the choice goes.

Berta still doesn't know what he thinks of the unit of state and what he sees best. The time I was there to know him was too short.

We know that similar indications of intent have recently been made by various parties.

Berta is not moving voluntarily and passively doing everything, also because she is unable to decide how to shake herself in the first place.

The next time Harold came across it was a few days later.

When he meets his eyes, he laughs at Berta intimately.

I thought you were a colder person.

I still remember. When I just got here. In chronological order, that was when I was making Louis.

I didn't have a good eye for it.

(On the contrary, he said I called him)

Berta remembered the time with some applause.

"Your Majesty,"

Was that the first night or the next?

I forgot the details, but Berta called that to his hindsight. I think he opened his mouth to surprise that he would just be gone rather than wanting to call it off.

I regretted it a second later when I spoke to my voice.

Harold only slowed his gait for a moment and left the bedroom without turning around. Berta never realized she'd been ignored, as long as she kept her mouth shut.

(I don't have that one. I still think it's terrible)

How could I have forgotten? Ever since I remember it, it's burning so vividly into my memory that I can even hear Harold's stiff footsteps at that time.

"It's a mess."

Berta may still be confused by the fact that he is the same person in front of the man then.

"Your Majesty"

Harold's hand stroked Berta's hair and loosened the tied hair the samurai put together.

Unlike dark hair with a strong habit, I wanted to touch his beautiful blonde hair, but I couldn't move my arm just thinking about it. It seems even that kind of curse is being cast. I wonder what the hell is wrong with me.

"Can't get used to it forever"

Wipe the grain of tears his fingers accumulate on his eyeballs. So Berta realized her vision was blurred.

"I'm sorry"

"I don't like it. Don't apologize, I feel like I'm abusing you."

Having said that, Harold, who doesn't look as if he was offended, must be enjoying Berta's troubled face as well.

Harold has looked down at Berta as he did and asked with such lightness that he would even talk to the public.

"... have you heard from Kasha?

Berta took time to understand his words.

(Now?)

Is that something we need to talk about now?

"Nothing in particular"

"I would have returned the samurai. I hear you've been talking to the lady back from the south for a long time."

Rather than that, what the hell did Harold start talking about?

(Oh, this could be... not good)

"Lisa, the samurai, gave it back for her sister's birthday celebration. They are also my mother's cousins, so I asked them how their mothers and children were doing."

"Relatives? Is there so much fire going on among the samurai that they put out a high-profile one and use it as a liaison with the south?

Yes, it was.

Some of the ladies in Berta's palace are also misled by Harold's breathtaking. I regret being caught off guard even though I had thinly guessed about it, even if it was mentioned with ease like a bedtime story.

"I don't know what Kasha's thinking."

Usually it was to the extent of deception.

But I'm not smart enough to work. In a futile situation where the more I tried to think about it, the more intoxicating my thoughts became, the more distressed Berta was, only by not lying about the sneeze on the spot.

"I don't know either, and I'm having trouble with a lonely struggle that I don't have the time to see. So I asked my father when he would come out."

After Berta has moved a lot, she is vomiting words that will give certainty to the fact that Kasha still doesn't move.

"Right. It would be uneasy to have an ally outside in the morning who said this forever"

"No,"

Seems to be working, and those words are just trying to rock Berta and draw further information.

What am I going to do, make sure they don't answer no matter what they ask me anymore? Berta turned a blind eye at me.

Harold is nearly ten years old and an older man, and I'm sure for him there's no Berta or other making. I hold it in one hassle, and then I can think about work.

Does he even make it look like an imitation that Berta would ask in anticipation of running out of room?

"... Your Majesty is a clever man"

I'll never believe it again. Berta was serious and she bit her lower lip not wanting to cry on such a stupid night.

Strong rebellion was also due to the darkness inside Berta herself, but she did not have the calmness to become aware of it.

"I'm sorry. Let's end this story."

Harold hugs Berta so hard that he cuts the flow of conversation.

At a distance where I could even hear the beating, on the contrary, my whole body seemed nervous and cardiac.

"Stop, forgive me. Berta."

Harold's voice asking forgiveness was only that of goodwill.

Berta is cornered on her own, forgiven, and swallowed up at his pace forever.

"You don't like me?

Berta, who is amused no matter how she reacts and who is just suffering total defeat, has become seriously frustrated step by step.

"... I hate it"

Feeling close to abandoning himself, I glance up at him.

"Your kind, where you can afford it,"

"Hmm?"

"I don't know. It doesn't seem to be in my hands forever."

Harold, after roaring low against his eyes for the first time, grabbed Berta's hands and let him bring them to his own cheek.

Be dressed to attract that face from yourself, and maybe Berta can't do it again. I strangled myself.

"It's yours."

You should take a good look. Harold whispered so.

"Your Majesty,"

"You're telling me to call you Harold,"

That was something he'd only say at night lately. Normally you can't, can you call this guy by name?

In the end, Berta couldn't say anything with it and was flushed by our face Harold.