Come to think of it, Rou often mentioned his eyes. He remembered mentioning something like roses blooming in June. Brukisel detested both roses and June, but only the smile of the one making that praise remained in his memory, often surfacing.
Brukisel hated everything in the world. He hated the imperial family and the blood flowing in his body. The same went for the red eyes and black hair that symbolized it. It had already been a long time since he’d looked at himself reflected in a mirror.
Sometimes Brukisel forgot what color his eyes were. It was possible because no one dared mention his appearance.
Brukisel had no particular interest in his own appearance, but he knew that the cloth tied around Rou’s waist was similar in color to his eyes. And that those honey-colored eyes always sparkled with anticipation before him.
Brukisel cleared his throat. He became a bit hesitant about what to say.
For Rou, who usually enjoyed comfortable clothes, to come dressed like that out of consideration for him—he felt he should respond with some pleasant words. If Jes found out, he’d fall backward and break his nose from misunderstanding, Brukisel thought as he rubbed his chin.
Having never paid attention to others’ feelings and situations, though Brukisel was exceptional in all things, this time took a bit longer.
“Red… suits you well.”
“Really?”
This was the first time Brukisel had said such a thing. From the moment Rou entered, he couldn’t take his eyes off his waist, and he seemed to truly think so. Rou was so surprised that he unconsciously raised his voice loudly and showed his surprise with his whole body.
Such a display from Rou rather embarrassed Brukisel. It was a remark he’d made after much deliberation as if expecting praise, but for him to be that surprised. Well, he’d be surrounded by people praising his appearance, so it was somewhat surprising that this was the first time he’d made such a comment.
Brukisel fixed his gaze on a book he wasn’t even looking at. Rou found his reaction fascinating.
It seemed Jes and Yan’s words were really right. When they were dressing him, the cloth tightly wrapping his whole body felt stuffy, cumbersome and annoying, but if he’d known the reaction would be this good, he would have endured the trouble earlier!
Rou thought he should enjoy wearing red clothes from now on.
Rou approached Brukisel’s side. As if waiting for Rou to come, an empty chair was placed opposite him. Rou was about to sit in the empty chair when he was startled by a beast with hundreds of eyeballs.
Was it a monster that only lived in the north? But looking again, it was a plant resembling animal eyes. With red eyelids, round whites between them, and even mimicking jet-black pupils—if he’d seen it in a meadow, he would have surely thought they were eyes.
Not only that, but the sight of hundreds of round eyes was a bit uncomfortable even for Rou, who loved all life. So it surely wouldn’t be eaten by herbivores in nature.
‘What was that plant’s name?’
Blinking his eyes a couple more times, the answer came to him without difficulty.
“Isn’t that guarana?”
“…You know it well.”
“You have unique tastes.”
“It’s a plant I received as tribute because it’s poisonous. I found out belatedly that it doesn’t have enough poison to kill a person.”
Brukisel earnestly explained that it wasn’t a plant he grew of his own will. His words were somehow excuse-like.
“Well, just looking at it, you could mistake it for a poisonous plant.”
It did have an appearance that made it hard to believe it wasn’t poisonous. Who would dare think to put something like that in their mouth? It would be a difficult decision unless one truly wished for death.
Rou looked around the greenhouse. As he’d told Het earlier, there were no plants that could harm Rou, a Spirit. Since distinguishing between poisonous plants and other flowers was meaningless to Rou, only after hearing Brukisel’s words did poisonous plants begin catching his eye one by one.
Flowers and grasses that, when eaten, prevented blood from clotting, causing one to continuously cough up blood until death. Trees that swelled the airways terribly, slowly choking the breath until suffocation. Even grasses that induced hallucinations, making one run endlessly while chased by phantoms until the heart finally burst. The methods of killing people were diverse.
“Have you tried all the poisonous plants here?”
“I have.”
Eating poison for the first time was by chance. The Shadow power ran wild, and most members of the imperial family lost their lives. The survivors were collateral members who hadn’t been invited to that glorious event. Brukisel, the only prince, became the heir to the throne at an age not yet of adulthood.
Having learned that Brukisel had no backing, the imperial family members each spewed their own ambitions. Using the excuse that his mother wasn’t of noble birth, they insisted Brukisel must be tested to see if he was truly someone who could work for the empire.
It was a laughable story to Brukisel, who wished for the empire’s downfall more than anyone.
The factions claiming he must have corresponding achievements if he truly wanted to inherit the throne drove Brukisel to the battlefield. And every time he brought back only victory with his blood-stained sword, those who opposed Brukisel began to be colored with fear.
They would have hoped Brukisel would die on the battlefield, but those created by the goddess of earth couldn’t kill Brukisel. Even with a sword stuck in his heart, even with a crossbow bolt piercing his body, Shadow always revived Brukisel. Though painful enough to die, he couldn’t die.
Shadow didn’t only take away death. Due to his excessively developed senses, Brukisel’s nerves were always on edge. Even footsteps walking from afar, the sound of a thin branch breaking underfoot, even the sound of leaves rustling beside it—all were excessively vivid.
So he had no rest. When the boundary between light and shadow blurred and night came filled only with darkness, he suffered. When night came, whether ally or enemy, quietness descended and peace came equally, but he alone was the exception.
Day was rather better. A space filled only with the sound of sharp swords clashing while covered in blood was rather monotonous.
Those by Brukisel’s side both respected and feared Brukisel who possessed abilities beyond human capacity, and as he continued to seize victory, their fear only grew.
Especially those who had driven him to the battlefield trembled in fear every night that what Brukisel brought back next wouldn’t be the enemies’ heads but theirs. Their poisoning of Brukisel’s teacup was perhaps the last struggle of cornered rats.
The night Brukisel returned to the Imperial Palace after another victory, the banquet welcoming him was splendid and clamorous. Brukisel stood against one wall, quietly tilting his wine glass. At this rate, the throne would be his after the coming-of-age ceremony. No one would dare object to that.
An emperor who wished for the empire’s downfall would be a first for anyone. Brukisel smiled cynically. How regretful the collateral branches who had taken turns meddling would be. His expectations were high for those distorted faces.
He picked up the wine a servant had brought. The taste was strange, unlike usual. The expression of the servant who brought it was also quite odd. Just as Brukisel, finding him suspicious, was about to call back the retreating servant, his vision became hazily blurred and his consciousness grew faint. Something hot and fishy flowed down the back of his throat.
Thus rest resembling death came to him.
In the quiet darkness, Brukisel stood alone. A space filled purely with only darkness. Someone might feel fear at this overwhelming darkness. Might feel this space where nothing existed was empty.
But to Brukisel, it was peaceful.
In the quiet space, Brukisel could forget everything for a moment. The empire, the father who had tried to kill his child, the mother who chose death unable to protect her child—all. All were forgotten. Shadow embraced Brukisel, and Brukisel felt the joy that rest gave for the first time.
When that quietness gradually faded, he even felt regretful. But peace wasn’t permitted to Brukisel. Peace left as if it wasn’t Brukisel’s portion. The detestable Shadow power that tormented Brukisel was gradually returning.
When Brukisel opened his eyes, white hydrangeas surrounded him. Judging from how the servant who had come in to change the wilted flowers was startled as if seeing the dead returned from death, his breathing had truly stopped for some time.
Inside the Imperial Palace, discussions about his funeral were in progress. The ringleaders were gathered closely within the Imperial Palace, so Brukisel could easily execute them. It was good for Brukisel since all the collateral branches had to disappear for this empire to not forget its lineage.
After that, in moments when his head was complicated and his nerves were on edge, Brukisel recalled the peace he’d briefly tasted. He wanted to experience that quiet, peaceful moment just once more.
After becoming emperor of the empire, obtaining poisonous plants became easier. The nobles who didn’t know Brukisel grew poisonous plants to use on himself feared they would be the target, but they weren’t in Brukisel’s consideration.
It was a moment of getting closer to a means to kill himself.
Poisonous plants sent from all over the continent were planted in their appropriate places. And finally, Brukisel succeeded in finding a poisonous plant that could suppress Shadow. Truly, he’d never been more grateful for life blooming from the earth than at that moment.
But that too was brief. Shadow quickly became accustomed to the poison, and Brukisel had to take larger amounts more frequently. It was because resistance had developed. Poisonous plants that had no effect no matter how much he ate were forgotten, and the greenhouse grew ever larger to plant new, more powerful poisonous plants.
Since servants only came in at designated times to turn on the water and immediately leave, it was strange to be sitting here with someone. The emperor and High Priest sitting in the middle of a greenhouse full of poisonous plants discussing death—it was a story people of the world wouldn’t believe.
