Chapter 7 - Sleeping King

Translator's Note:

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Here you go, and I wish you a good read.

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As the King turned without another word to Fisé, Prince Aurelian trotted after him, like any child would.

 

Even when told, "You stay here. It's your job to keep the Rose King company," the boy refused to stop.

 

"I'm going back too," he insisted stubbornly, glancing back at Fisé as he pursued his father.

 

He said nothing, but he smiled and waved—as if to say "Goodbye."

 

No matter how wretched a father may be, the child still clings to him. That, too, was simply the way of the world.

 

Even after their figures vanished, their voices lingered down the corridor: "Stay here and be nice to the Rose King,"

 

"Wait, Daddy! Wait for me!"

 

"What an utterly contemptible man," came a voice from beneath the bed. "To use a child so young…"

 

Launis, the black cat who had been hiding beneath the bed, emerged with his tail held high.

 

Fur bristling with indignation, he gave a long, catlike stretch. The space under the bed hadn't been that tight, but he still let out a theatrical "Nnngh," as though she'd been trapped for ages.

 

"Launis."

 

At the sound of his name and the opening of Fisé's arms, Launis leapt into them on instinct.

 

He was halfway between a kitten and a grown cat—so delicate that if Fisé held his too tightly, he might break. Fisé cradled him gently in his arms.

 

He didn't know why he had done so. Maybe it was because the sweet little prince who had promised a handshake had left so suddenly. Maybe it was the foul presence of that loathsome man lingering nearby. Or maybe, it was something else entirely.

 

That man is a fool. But no more foolish than I. Even knowing his scheme, I couldn't bring myself to say what needed to be said to the prince. I should've turned him away with a cold, final "You must never come here again." But I couldn't do it. No—truthfully, it wasn't that I didn't want to hurt him. It was that…

 

…I didn't want him to hate me.

 

I chose my words carefully, warning him not to touch the rusted bars, precisely because some part of me hoped he'd return. Even back when he was just a swaddled infant, I had thought—I want to see him again.

 

Back then, I had felt strangely fortunate to be able to witness his healthy growth up close.

 

Now, three years later, to say goodbye forever to this child—now walking on his own two feet, speaking in his own earnest way—was no easy thing.

 

Wanting to see him again… surely it's because he truly is special.

He feels like a child born of sunlight itself.

 

No one, after all, can live forever in shadow.

 

"Fisé, are you all right? You seem terribly weary."

 

Still stroking Launis's soft fur, Fisé let out a deep sigh.

 

He truly was exhausted, and at last sank onto the plain, unadorned bed.

 

A fairy with eternal life, shaken so deeply by a tiny human child—that reality made him loathe himself all the more.

 

"That prince… likely won't come again."

 

"Oh? So you do want him to come back, then?"

 

"I never said that. I only asked for your opinion."

 

"Oh—was that supposed to be a question?"

 

With the light black cat curled upon his lap, Fisé murmured, "I suppose it was."

 

Launis responded to the movement of his fingers, arching his neck and flicking his tail thoughtfully. "Hmmm… if you ask me, I believe he will return someday," he purred, his voice accompanied by the soft rumble of a contented throat.

 

"When?" Fisé asked. "When he's grown and self-aware?"

 

"No, it's when he's old enough to start having desires… yes, perhaps toward the end of his boyhood or when he enters youth. Right now, he's only here because the King likely whispered something in his ear to make him like you. But when he's older, he'll come on his own will, because he's genuinely curious about you."

 

"And… what kind of curiosity would that be?"

 

Even as he asked, Fisé couldn't help but wonder what sort of desire Launis meant.

 

When he becomes a man, will he come seeking rose oil to enrich the kingdom… or the miracle of the Everlasting Rose?

 

The former would be understandable for a prince. But if he should grow into a man greedy for the latter… then he may one day repeat his father's sins.

 

"What kind of curiosity? That, I'm afraid, we'll only know once he's grown. I, for one, hope he doesn't become like that man… but as with kittens, so too with children—human children tend to grow into reflections of their parents. Even those who shine when young often end up looking just like their fathers in the end."

 

"No… surely not. That prince takes after his mother. His hair, his features—none of them resemble the King."

 

"That may be true for now, but it's said that resemblance can creep in over time. Ten or twenty years from now, if that prince arrives bearing gifts, you must never let your guard down."

 

"There's no need to worry. I'll never again fall victim to such a foolish fever."

 

"If the prince is sincere, then perhaps it's worth catching. Fisé, you are beautiful, and far too lovely. I hope someone—be they human or fairy—will one day come to love you truly, so you can smile again. Someone with not just a noble name, but a noble spirit. Someone truly worthy of you, regardless of lineage. Otherwise…" Launis's golden eyes gleamed, "I won't allow anyone to take you from me."

 

He said it with conviction, even while squirming lazily in Fisé's arms like the half-grown kitten he was.

 

He looked delicate, youthful, and fragile, but he had always been by his side—and that fierce devotion, even when it boiled into emotion, warmed his heart.

 

"I'll never fall in love again. No matter how noble a youth that prince may become, I won't let down my guard. And I'm not looking for some soul of rare beauty or so-called 'truly worthy' person, either. So long as I have you by my side… that's enough."

 

He didn't often voice such feelings. But this time, he said it aloud.

 

Launis visibly brightened. He let out a soft "Myaa", forgetting he was a beast who could speak. When Fisé stroked him again, he purred deeply in response.

 

There was no joy to be found in this life—trapped in a narrow cage, enduring the occasional presence of that loathsome man. And yet, one thing gave him solace: Launis, the faithful companion left behind by the former Rose King. Without him, Fisé doubted he would have even the strength to worry about the state of the kingdom.

 

When Launis went out for his morning walk, Fisé lay alone on the bed.

 

It was always the same after the King's visits—his body and spirit worn down to nothing.

 

Even without speaking directly, simply sensing the man's presence was enough to make him loathe the person he had once been—and by extension, hate the person he was now, tormented by those memories.

 

It felt as if some vile poison had rushed through him, saturating even the ends of his hair.

 

I should've asked Launis to stay.

 

Fisé had told him it would be fine, sent him off with confidence… but his resolve crumbled too easily. The moment he was alone, his chest ached; revulsion for both his past and present selves made him nauseous.

 

I subsist on little more than mist… and yet I still feel like vomiting. Maybe I've strayed too far from the sanctuary for too long. Or perhaps it's all in my head. No other fairy could possibly be as foolish as I am, so there's no way to tell.

 

The weakest, smallest fairies could vanish at the mere sound of a gunshot.

 

The experience of being wounded emotionally was one only fairies of great magic and intellect could know. Ordinarily, fairies were fickle, and quick to abandon things.

 

When life bored them, or hardship overwhelmed them, they simply chose to vanish.

 

Their "death" was not like that of humans—it was far more casual.

They simply dissolved, drifted away, and became something else.

Then they could ride the wind, exist as they were, and feel no hatred, regret, self-loathing, sickness, or pain.

 

"…Why can't I disappear?"

 

Lying on the plain bed, eyes closed, Fisé whispered to the dark.

 

He'd wished to vanish so many times, had believed it would happen naturally… yet even now, three years on, he was still here. He'd told himself he had no attachments—but he knew he was bound by hatred.

 

If Fisé ever truly, from the depths of his soul, desired to disappear… then the next Rose King would be born.

 

And yet, as of now, in this world, there was only one Rose King—Fisé.

 

Even if he believed himself unworthy of the title, the truth remained: there was no other fairy alive strong enough to become king.

 

Unlike humans, there was no second-in-line, no "next best." Except in the moment of succession, only one being at a time possessed such singular power.

 

I hate the King, but I never wanted the people to suffer… And if this continues, I'll become a dark fairy who brings death to humans.

 

Unless the people use their wisdom, unite, and build a kingdom that no longer depends on fairies— Or I myself make the Rose that yields oil bloom once again— There is no third path.

 

I've thought, many times, that perhaps I should bloom it. No—always, I've thought so. But I couldn't bring myself to do it.

 

A heart cannot be changed like the sky. Nor can the color of a flower.

 

Once it has been stained pitch-black by mire, how can it ever shine white again?

 

"…?"

 

Clutching at the sheets, unable to sleep and sunk in gloom, he heard something.

 

Footsteps, rising up the stairwell—too light to be a guard's or a maid's.

 

They were soft. Not graceful, but unsteady and irregular.

 

He closed his eyes, focused, and heard more.

 

The rustling of fabric. Soft, uneven breathing. A small voice, huffing, "Heave-ho, heave-ho."

 

A child. There was no mistaking it. Those light footsteps came from small feet, stumbling on the stairs they couldn't yet master.

 

After a few more "heave-ho"s, came a bit of cheerful self-encouragement: "Hmm… okay, just a little more… you can do it…"

 

The prince… Prince Aurelian is climbing the stairs. So soon?

 

 

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