CH 57

"What?"

Russell doubted the words that entered his ears.

What did I just hear? What did she just say?

He wanted to ask her further but was interrupted by the arrival of her older brother cutting off their conversation.

"Your Majesty, the horses are ready."

"Ah, yes, alright."

After taking the reins from Wells, Russell turned his head back toward the carriage window.

However, what he was faced with was a tightly closed window and tightly drawn curtains that prevented him from seeing inside.

"If you're tired, would you like to ride in the carriage?"

Wells asks when Russell stood on the spot, fixated on the carriage. Russell shook his head.

"No, I'm alright. The knights won't be able to handle the horse's temperament well. Go ahead first and I will follow you."

"As you command, Your Majesty."

Wells saluted Russell, opened the carriage door, put his foot on the footrest, and smoothly climbed into the carriage.

The coachman waited patiently for his master to seat himself comfortably in the carriage before he urged the horses onward.

A few knights followed the moving carriage, leaving the rest of the knights who stayed behind on the order of Russell and Wells.

Instead of mounting his horse, Russell turned to the knights.

"Go to where the kidnappers are being held."

When Russell took the lead, the knights followed after him in perfect order.

The knights who hadn't been informed of the kidnapper's death proceeded in a tense manner, expecting a battle with the enemy, whereas Russell was wondering how to get the body back to the capital.

...First of all, we need to check the body again and call a carriage from the Imperial Palace to transport it. Rose said to let this go and move on, but we still need to investigate how and why this kidnapping took place.

Russell carried on with the journey as he formed the outline of his plan. He came to his senses when he noticed they'd arrived at Stanley's location.

However, the only thing that greeted him and the knights was Elliot's back as it looked down the cliff. Stanley's body was nowhere to be seen.

Elliot must have felt the presence of several people, but he did not look back.

"Duke Proud."

At Russell's voice call, Elliot slowly turned around.

"You are here, Your Majesty."

"Where is he?"

"He? Oh... The dead body. Why? Are you planning to take it to the capital? I've already dealt with the corpse, I thought it would be nice to give it to hungry animals in the winter."

Acknowledging Elliot's dry words, Russell looked down at the duke's shoes. Elliott's feet had long trails of blood trailing behind them.

It was clear to see that they belonged to the bloody corpse as it was dragged through the dirt. Russell sighed and raised his hand to press his temples.

Elliott approached the emperor and handed him Russell's sword.

Russell took the sword from him and put it into the scabbard at his waist.

"Although he is a kidnapper and a criminal, he is an Imperial citizen of Tristan. The duke doesn't know that even if it's a corpse, taking it to the capital and doing a background check is a priority."

"I know, but... I don't think there's any need to do that."

Elliot took a step and closed the gap between him and his master, the emperor.

Russell watched him silently as he approached.

Elliot did not avert his eyes and faced Russell head-on. He muttered in a low voice.

"Isn't that why His Majesty also killed that man without hesitation?"

Elliot's words cut deeply.

"Your Majesty, the weather is cold. Let's get back to the capital quickly. All knights escorting His Majesty, follow him. The rest can disperse to Honeywell Manor."

As befits the commander-in-chief of the Imperial Knights, Elliot naturally gave orders to the Knights of the Honeywell family even though they were not directly under his control.

For a moment, Russell stared down at the edge of the cliff where Stanley's body was thrown off, then turned away.

For a very brief moment, his eyes were stained with darkness.

"Ugh."

"Your Majesty?"

"Your Majesty!"

Elliot and the Knights of the Honeywell family, who had taken the lead, turned in surprise as Russell stumbled blindly as he vomited in pain.

The emperor barely straightened himself and held out his hand.

"No... Nothing, carry on."

Returning to where the Honeywells' carriage had left, Russell jumped on the horse that was waiting for him.

With Elliot on the lead, Russell and the Honeywell family knights headed for the capital.

As they traveled on the road to the capital by horseback, Russell couldn't erase his serious expression.

He recalled the darkness that had covered his vision just before.

What was that about?

It was just for an instant, but he saw it clearly.

What he saw in the darkness was Rose dying on the white snow. Blank eyes and red blood were deeply seared into his mind.

... Is it because I thought up the worst outcome while running here? But why is the snow piled up in my mind?

Russell raised his head.

Today, even as winter drew closer, the weather was still warmer than other days.

Even if it snows in the late winter, it won't pile up like the snow he saw in his vision.

It's over now. Now that Rose is all right, you'd better not think such ominous thoughts, Russell.

He decided to change his mind about something else.

It was her again who entered his mind so frighteningly quickly that he had visions of Rose's death.

"Seeing people die... It doesn't shock me too much."

Rose said those words with a smile before they parted ways.

Russell had caught that smile.

He immediately understood why Rose reacted the way she did.

It must have been because she went to the forest where the sleeping monster beneath the capital of the Tristan Empire was sealed.

Now that I think about it, Rose's appearance in the cave at that time was strange.

Did the monster's soul in Rose's body recognize the sword that sealed her and cause something to go wrong? If so, it only lasted for a short time and she was soon back to normal.

Even if you look back at the history books, there is no such thing as a reawakening of the monster that was sealed.

There was no advice or note anywhere in the Imperial Palace about the situation that befell him.

Russell headed for the capital with a confused mind.

Inside the carriage, running quietly.

Sitting next to Rose, Wells wiped dirt and dust from the small cut on her arm with a towel he had prepared.

"At least there are no serious injuries."

"I said there wasn't."

"I was very surprised."

Wells stroked Rose's head affectionately.

His beloved sister didn't avoid it but instead buried her face in Wells' shoulder. Seeing her like that, he chuckled.

"You haven't acted spoiled like this in a while. It seems like you were a child not too long ago."

Their parents died early, and Wells had to inherit the family line and become a duke before he even celebrated his coming-of-age ceremony.

At that young age, he was put in a position to take care of the family, the servants, and Rose.

Rose, too, at the young age of six, knew that the situation that her brother was too much for him to handle.

So she acted resolutely, not wanting him to worry about her as much as he did.

That's how the Honeywell siblings had no choice but to grow up early after the support of their parents, who protected them, disappeared.

Rose grew up like that in the past, but now that she has been killed and returned, she can't walk around as resolutely as before.

Perhaps the "some time ago" that Wells referred to was the point at which she regressed and came back.

While brushing the dirt from the hem of Rose's skirt with the towel he was holding, Wells noticed something on the floor of the carriage.

"This...?"

He bent down and looked at the floor.

Rose leaned on Wells' shoulder and stretched her neck as she too looked where his gaze was directed.

"What's on the floor?"

Both eyes were focused downward.

Wells swiped it from the carriage floor with his fingertips. His expression hardened instantly.

"Rose. Let me see your feet."

The skirt Rose was wearing was long enough to drag all the way to the floor, causing her to slightly lift the hem of her skirt.

Wells got up from his seat and sat down on one knee in front of her.

His expression became horrified as he held Rose's small feet.

"Rose! What---what happened to your feet? Your feet are completely bare

!"

[TL/N: Olden days women had to have their feet covered at all times when out.]

Rose had thrown off her shoes while running away from Stanley and had been walking around barefoot with only socks ever since.

Although they were winter socks, they were worn out on the rough dirt road, and the exposed soles of Rose's feet were torn and bleeding.

Wells wiped the blood from the soles of her feet with a towel.

"Why did you take off your shoes? No, that's not that important. Why didn't you tell me that your leg was hurt?"

Rose stared into Wells' eyes.

The only thing that bothered her at this moment was herself. If Wells hadn't noticed bloodstains on the floor of the carriage, she wouldn't have known until they arrived at the manor that she was injured.

"...I didn't know."

"How were you even able to walk in this condition?!"

Rose slumped her spine and looked at the soles of her feet.

Even the appearance of the wound showed the severity of the injuries. But Rose didn't feel the pain as she looked at them.

Could it be that I couldn't feel the pain because I was frostbitten? It felt like seeing a wound on someone else's body, not my own.

"I won't take back the words that I felt like the time before, when you were a child."

While grumbling, Wells was very careful when wiping the blood from Rose's feet.

She kept her mouth shut and didn't say anything as she frowned.

Why wasn't I hurt after jumping off the carriage? Is there something wrong with my body that I can't feel the pain?

It was strange at the time and even stranger now.

The carriage Stanley was driving was going very fast. I jumped from there, but all I got were bruises and surface wounds.

Rose pondered whether to tell Wells about this, but then opened her mouth.

"Brother."

"Yes?"

Wells wrapped Rose's foot with the bandage he had brought, raising his head.

"Something strange happened to me."

"What else did the kidnapper do?"

The friendly face that was full of worries hardened in an instant, and Rose shook her head.

"No, that's not it, actually... When the man was driving the carriage, I jumped off the moving carriage to get away."

"In a moving carriage?!"

"...I couldn't stay in the carriage of my kidnapper!"

Rose muttered, but Wells examined her body with a serious expression before she could finish speaking.

He must have been very worried as her slender body jumped off the rushing carriage.

Rose put a hand on his shoulder as if to soothe him.

"There are no injuries. It's true. I'm not hurt."

"You jumped off the carriage, and you're not hurt?"

"At that time, after jumping off, this was the only wound I found."

Rose rolled up her sleeves. There were minor scratches on the skin on her arm. It was not a serious injury.

"This is nonsense. You are already weaker than other people."

"I was prepared to break something while jumping, however... Why is my body still fine after that and why didn't I notice that my foot was injured?"

"...That's something I can't answer. I just know that you're lucky that none of your bones are broken. Maybe it's because you were too exhausted that you didn't have the time to feel the pain."

Putting the bandages and bloodied towels in one corner of the carriage floor, Wells sat back down in his seat.

"Come to think of it. During the hunting festival, even though it rained a lot, you didn't catch a cold."

"I didn't--- Ooh."

As if something came to mind, Rose let out a short exclamation.

"There was something I wanted to ask my older brother about."

"What is it?"

"I fell and hurt my ankle when I got lost on a hunt."

"The physician never said anything like that."

"I definitely hurt my ankle, then. I woke up briefly at dawn, but my injured ankle was all healed. Is this also related?"

Wells peered into Rose's red eyes, which were staring blankly at him.

He looked at her for a long time, as if recalling something, then turned his head, feeling contemplative.