From that day on, Rou headed to the greenhouse every single day. Even Het, who had fretted anxiously outside the door for the first few days, and even Jes, who had made him drink detoxifying beverages with awful tastes as soon as he returned to the temple worried about his health—neither of them added any more words to Rou as his complexion became clearer day by day and his skin began to glow.
That beverage mixed with charcoal, natural lime, and all sorts of miscellaneous things said to have detoxifying properties boasted a taste as terrible as its dreadful color, so Rou was delighted to be freed from it.
The honey humans collected was good, but what suited Rou best was still freshly picked nectar from live flowers. When he got stuck while trying to combine various poisons for Brukisel or when his head moved sluggishly, he would drink the nectar pooled inside the flowers.
When Rou was holding the end of a flower’s long tube in his mouth, chewing on petals that still had sweetness remaining, Brukisel would occasionally fling open the greenhouse door with a frown. After being surprised once or twice by the sight of Rou with a flower in his mouth, Brukisel now seemed to be gradually getting used to the fact that Rou would be there when he went to the greenhouse.
Whenever Rou casually touched flower petals or peeled bark from tree branches, he would flinch as if wanting to say something, but soon closed his mouth tight without saying anything.
“Today it’s lily of the valley tea. I added a little dried lavender hoping it would smell nice.”
Brukisel, who had been about to sneer ‘What’s the point of it smelling nice when it’s all poison anyway,’ found himself at a loss for words at those sparkling golden eyes and quietly picked up the teacup.
“How is it?”
“I haven’t even put it to my lips yet.”
Brukisel laughed as if finding Rou’s question absurd. To ask when he couldn’t even wait that long. Since Rou’s golden eyes kept sparkling incessantly, Brukisel didn’t hesitate any longer and tilted the teacup.
Because some toxins are destroyed when steeped in hot water, this single cup of tea was far from enough to bring Brukisel to death. But it was sufficient to suppress his heightened senses, subdue his thoughts, and clear his head.
The poison steeped in the tea lingered on Brukisel’s tongue, in his esophagus, in his organs, and soon flowed through the blood vessels throughout his body. As his senses slowly numbed, Brukisel could finally smell the fragrance wafting from the tea.
Ever since the power of the Shadow ran rampant and his senses became excessively developed, he had never smelled anything that could be called a fragrance. In spring, there was only the fishy smell of melted snow and dampening earth. When summer came, humid odors weighed heavily on his body. In autumn, he could smell the final struggle of plants waiting for death, and in winter, there was only death.
Just as mixing all colors creates an ugly paint, being able to smell every scent around him was not a blessing. It was simply a stench.
‘Was flower fragrance originally like this?’
It was the first time tea felt fragrant. For Brukisel, who had always meaninglessly drunk tea served by attendants, savoring a fragrance was a first. Brukisel stared intently at the liquid pooled in the teacup, wondering if something special had been added.
“You must like it!”
He’d only taken one sip. Rou came to a conclusion based on who knows what reasoning and filled Brukisel’s cup until it was on the verge of overflowing. Thanks to that, Brukisel was forced to take another sip and give Rou the answer he wanted.
“Yes. And I’ll pour it myself.”
“Really? That’s a relief!”
Saying he was glad it suited his taste, Rou said he should fill the teapot more and pushed his way through the flowers. The teapot was still heavy—how much more did he plan to make him drink? It was absurd.
Brukisel, who had been looking in the direction Rou disappeared, belatedly caught a new fragrance. A fresh scent he hadn’t been able to smell in the greenhouse. Not the stench of animal and plant remains rotting into the soil, but the clear fragrance emitted by living life.
Brukisel took a deep breath. It was the first time the air filling his lungs felt pleasant. Come to think of it, everything with Rou was a first. Humans who weren’t afraid of him like that were rare.
All life living and breathing on the continent had been touched by the Goddess’s hand. So it was natural to be wary of the Shadow, the opposing force. Ordinary people felt an inexplicable aversion to Brukisel the moment they saw him, and those who faced the power of the Shadow felt fear.
However, Rou acted like a human who couldn’t feel such things from the start. Despite being closer to the Goddess than anyone.
Brukisel found that truly curious. Looking back, Rou had explained him with absurd modifiers like kindness and gentleness. Had he not heard even one of the many negative modifiers attached to him?
He was a peculiar human in many ways.
‘Well, it’s also ridiculous that there are two people who say they’ll die with me.’
Soon Rou squeezed out from between the thick grass. His arms were laden with an abundance of flowers.
“Brukisel!”
Rou ran over with a bright smile, holding flowers. With every step he took, one or two lily of the valley blossoms fell, leaving a trail. Brukisel thought it was funny watching Rou run breathlessly without even knowing flowers were dropping.
“You just need to pick the flowers. Like this!”
Rou gathered the small bell-shaped flowers hanging at the ends of long tubes and placed them in the center of the table. It was a demonstrative attitude. The attitude of naturally thinking he would follow the demonstration was absurd, yet Brukisel’s hands were already moving.
Lily of the valley piled up on the table, and soon two cups of warm tea were steeped. The newly brewed tea Rou made had an even stronger flower scent than before.
“I cut the petals against the grain and put them in. That’s probably why the scent is stronger.”
Rou suddenly thought it was nice to have a human to enjoy lily of the valley tea with. Then, saying it would be good to eat something with the tea, he pulled over a basket that had been placed in the corner. It was something Jes and Yan had prepared for the High Priest who had been busy leaving the temple since morning.
Perhaps considering Rou’s small appetite, the contents inside weren’t very much. There was a fairly thick sandwich that could serve as a meal, candied fruits and pudding suited to Rou’s taste—that was all. When placed on the table, it looked utterly modest, but Rou smiled contentedly.
“They must have known I’d share with Brukisel. It’s exactly two servings.”
‘Where?’
Brukisel was someone who didn’t enjoy fine dining or like occasions to share food with others. Because he had become accustomed to meals eaten simply to fill his belly and survive on the battlefield, he was an emperor who received both admiration and concern from the imperial palace’s chefs.
Though Brukisel didn’t particularly enjoy food, because he was naturally robust, he ate quite a lot more than others, and he knew this himself.
Perhaps that’s why. The food Rou brought looked absurdly insufficient. It didn’t seem like the former High Priest would have prepared food thinking of him, so it was surprising that Rou was suggesting they share the food. And the way of thinking that considered two pieces of bread with a little meat between them as portions for two people.
“Here! This is Brukisel’s portion.”
Rou held out half a sandwich. Brukisel accepted it since it was offered, but couldn’t easily bring it to his mouth at the absurdly small amount. What was there to share that he was giving it to him? He was curious about Rou’s food intake.
Sure enough. Rou put down the sandwich after not even eating a few bites. He secretly picked out only the thin apple slices soaked in sugar water from inside the sandwich, then completely lost interest even in that and fiddled with the glass jar containing the candied fruit.
“Is… your meal finished?”
“Ah…”
Rou really didn’t find human food palatable. Why must one eat moist red chunks of flesh paired with baked flour? He wanted to put the remaining food back in the basket, but Jes had repeatedly emphasized that he’d made it thinking of all the nutritional components.
“Jes did tell me to make sure to eat at least half…”
Rou struggled to take a small bite of bread and chewed with a pained expression before putting it back down. While he hadn’t even managed to eat half of his portion of sandwich, the sandwich in Brukisel’s hand had long since disappeared.
“Ah… What will he say?”
To not even finish half a sandwich. What on earth was wrong with that human’s digestive system? Brukisel couldn’t suppress a chuckle at Rou’s whining.
Handling deadly poison without a care, showing no signs of fear in front of him, not afraid of death, yet so troubled before half a sandwich that he didn’t know what to do. He wondered if the thing Rou found most difficult wasn’t anything else but a sandwich.
“What. Should I eat it for you?”
Brukisel meant it sarcastically, telling him to be quiet and finish his portion, but those words came right back at Brukisel.
“Really? I’d be so grateful if you would!”
Then Rou placed his remaining sandwich not just anywhere, but right in front of Brukisel.
“…”
Since becoming Emperor, this was the first time someone had treated him so poorly. Even when he went to the battlefield and provisions were running out, no one had served the Emperor food they’d already eaten. Though they might have boiled and eaten the leather clothes brought to prepare for winter, he had never put something another person had eaten in his mouth.
The sandwich with bite marks offended Brukisel’s pride. No matter that Rou was the High Priest, this was crossing the line. Giving it to someone else because he didn’t want to eat it—calling it yielding was generous when it was really just discarding it.
Just as Brukisel was about to slam down the food, Rou said with sparkling eyes:
“To be able to eat all of that. You’re really amazing.”
