“Brukisel? Brukisel!”
Seeing him lose consciousness with a pale face, Rou found himself crying out in alarm without realizing it. Instinctively, Rou laid Brukisel down and shook his shoulders repeatedly while calling his name. He was suddenly terrified that Brukisel might never open his eyes again.
Then Rou pressed his lips shut, belatedly realizing that what he had given him wasn’t a fragrant tea but poison.
‘After giving him poison… I’m worried about what might happen to him.’
He had wanted to help him die peacefully. To do that, he would have to experience situations like this over and over until he was sick of them. He was in a position where he should welcome Brukisel losing consciousness after drinking what he served.
He understood it in his head. He hadn’t said he would help him on a whim. Rou had made this major decision even knowing the Goddess would be saddened. But now that he was actually watching Brukisel collapse before his eyes, his chest stung again.
Rou clutched at his chest. It had been hurting since earlier. But he had to endure it. For Brukisel’s sake. To give him the gift of peace.
‘I can do this. No, I will do this.’
The moment he gave Brukisel the gift of peace wouldn’t be this painful. When that time came, his own soul would likely leave the earth as well. He wouldn’t have to witness such painful scenes.
Rou placed Brukisel’s head on one of his thighs so he could lie comfortably. His breathing hadn’t stopped—it just seemed his heartbeat had slowed dramatically and he had fainted for a moment. Though his face was still pale, his heartbeat was rapidly returning to normal.
‘Thank goodness.’
That there was one more poison he could use on him. That he’d learned he could overcome the resistance by combining poisons in specific ratios. And that Brukisel had opened his eyes again. It was truly fortunate. Rou waited for color to return to his face.
Actually, not much time had passed, but Rou’s heart kept feeling anxious. Thinking something sweet in his mouth might help, Rou looked around. There was a sugar bowl on the tea table, but if he got up to grab it, Brukisel’s head would fall.
His breathing was already unstable, and Rou didn’t want to move his head. Instead, Rou plucked a lily of the valley nearby.
After removing the petals from the receptacle, he put his lips to the back and sucked out the nectar. The nectar contained in the flower was sweet—unbelievably so for something harboring poison. He wanted to feel the sweetness and soothe his anxiety, but the image of that strong, solid body collapsing in an instant kept coming back to him.
Feeling suffocated, Rou instinctively grabbed onto something. He was clutching handfuls of whatever was in his hands when he realized in the next moment that it was Brukisel’s hair, and immediately loosened his grip.
A few strands of jet-black hair stuck to Rou’s palm. Rou rubbed his palm on the clover to brush off the clinging hair.
Fortunately, unlike some humans he’d seen before, Brukisel had abundant hair with good texture, so a few strands pulled out by Rou’s grip didn’t make much difference. Rou slowly stroked Brukisel’s hair to smooth over the traces of what his hands had clutched.
‘Huh? It’s soft.’
The jet-black hair was much softer than he’d thought. Hidden behind those intense eyes, he hadn’t noticed—but Brukisel’s hair had a subtle luster, and touching it brought peace to his mind. There was also the fact that Brukisel’s head was round like a smoothly rolling marble, making it very pleasant to touch.
Touching the fluffy fur growing on someone’s round body part like this, he finally understood anew why the Goddess so enjoyed stroking his bottom.
Rou stroked Brukisel’s hair while frequently checking his pulse. Before he knew it, Rou found himself humming a lullaby the Goddess used to sing often.
The warm, cozy greenhouse was filled with sweet fragrance, perhaps from the flowers in full bloom. Though they might contain poison, the flowers were laden with nectar. Surrounded by such air, stroking the head of Brukisel lying with his lap as a pillow, it felt not like he had collapsed from poison but was simply enjoying a sweet afternoon nap.
Perhaps due to the familiar melody and temperature, Rou’s heart gradually became peaceful. Brukisel’s complexion had clearly improved, and his breathing had returned, making him look like someone sleeping truly peacefully.
At the sound of Rou’s singing, even the narrow stream flowing through the greenhouse seemed to halt its steps.
Brukisel’s eyelids began to tremble faintly after Rou had sung about three more slow lullabies. Rou was so absorbed in stroking Brukisel’s hair to soothe his own heart that he belatedly noticed Brukisel’s eyelids had lifted halfway.
“Brukisel.”
Brukisel blinked his eyes slowly.
It had been a while since he’d completely lost consciousness after drinking poison. The effective poison had taken Brukisel to that empty space. A space filled with shadows, as always. Brukisel stood in the welcome darkness.
The space where nothing existed gave Brukisel the gift of peace. Brukisel hoped his soul would lose its way in that empty place and wander eternally. Then he wouldn’t have to wake up forever.
But today, something appeared in that space where nothing had existed.
It was a singing voice, small and faint—so much so that even Brukisel had to furrow his brow and concentrate to barely hear it. That dimly audible sound kept cutting off and continuing, frustratingly preventing him from hearing it to his satisfaction.
Brukisel suddenly realized that distant singing voice was coming from one direction. He unconsciously walked toward it.
Then the lyrics became gradually clearer. It was a song widely spread across the continent that Brukisel had heard a few times. When a baby has nightmares and fusses, mothers living on the continent would gather the child into their warm embrace, gently rock them, and hum this lullaby.
To think someone would sing such a song to him. Brukisel couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity. There was only one person who would sing such a song by his side.
The singing grew clearer and clearer, as if being sung right next to him. Soon, an intense light simultaneously engulfed Brukisel. In an instant, all the sounds and colors of the world came rushing in a tangle. His insides churned as if he might vomit.
Brukisel clutched at his chest.
The poison must have been strong—his vision was blurry. Everything looked opaque, exactly like wandering through fog. Then he felt a hand stroking his hair. He heard someone’s voice. Brukisel furrowed his brow to see the silhouette before him more clearly.
Shining golden eyes came into view first. They widened in surprise, then softened into a gentle smile. His lips held Brukisel’s name.
The poison must still be spreading fully through his veins. Clearly his head was dulled from the poison’s effects. Or else he had gone mad like everyone in the world said. Otherwise, there was no way his name called by him could sound so sweet.
Brukisel stared blankly at the softly fluttering hair, golden eyes like melted pure gold, and the curve falling from cheek to lips. Then, truly unintentionally—in other words, by mistake, or more precisely, impulsively—he reached out toward it.
Brukisel carefully caressed Rou’s cheek with his fingertips. Like touching a delicate glass sculpture, his hand traced down the round cheek and paused briefly at the lips. The border of the lip’s edge was so soft he didn’t dare touch inside. He felt like it would break if he touched it carelessly.
Rou giggled aloud as if the touch tickled. Brukisel listened absently to the light laughter and instantly flushed to his ears. He simultaneously realized he had been lying with his head on Rou’s thigh all this time. A lap pillow. It was embarrassing.
Brukisel shot upright. At his movement, the nearby flowers seemed startled as well, rustling their leaves noisily. (Of course, only Rou noticed this.)
Without even looking back, Brukisel trudged straight out of the greenhouse. Rou couldn’t understand why he was suddenly acting this way and stared at the door he’d left through with a bewildered face.
“Brukisel?”
Rou belatedly called his name, but there was no chance of him hearing it and returning after already leaving the greenhouse so far behind.
Meanwhile, the Emperor who had left the greenhouse had a distorted expression. His mood clearly didn’t look good, so Het and Mac naturally assumed some incident had erupted inside. Het immediately checked inside the greenhouse. There sat the High Priest alone with a lonely face.
The Emperor hurt the High Priest again!
That was the only conclusion he could draw from the situation. The Emperor quickly distanced himself from the greenhouse, and Mac had to assist him so he followed immediately. Het was dying of curiosity about what had happened between the two, but since he couldn’t follow the Emperor and question him, he had no choice but to wait obediently for the High Priest.
However, the Emperor who had been striding away from the greenhouse suddenly stopped in place. Het had an ominous thought—could the High Priest be confined to the greenhouse again? He cautiously approached in the direction where the Emperor had stopped. Confining the High Priest was unacceptable. No matter what happened, he had to prevent that.
