Chapter 32 - Sleeping King

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Chapter 32

 

 

Though other nations called it the land of eternal winter, claiming it had no seasons at all, Twydal did indeed know brief glimmers of spring, summer, and autumn.

 

And so, after a long slumber, Twydal's winter finally came to an end.

 

The seasons turned. One year passed. And then another.

 

Three years had gone by since Prince Aurelian, once pronounced dead, had fallen into a deep slumber, his body slowly healed and sustained by the fairy power of the Rose King, Fisé. He had been seventeen then. Now, he was twenty.

 

Though he remained asleep, untouched by food or drink, it was as if he were still training—his body had grown sturdier, more defined.

 

Fisé had long lost count of how many times he had changed Aurelian's clothes, each time replacing garments that no longer fit. And now, finally, he had learned to look upon the boy's old scars without flinching.

 

The pain was still there. The regret never faded. Each glimpse of those wounds stirred a fresh ache in his chest—but Fisé understood now: Aurelian would not have wanted him to wallow in guilt or sorrow.

 

Aurelian, who had gone to great lengths to keep the violence of his father a secret, would have wanted Fisé to feel love when he looked upon those scars—not remorse. Now that he knew what he was never meant to discover, the only emotion that could bring peace to Aurelian's heart was precisely that love.

 

So every day, Fisé whispered his gratitude silently in his heart—Thank you for everything. I'm so grateful to you—as he waited, patiently, for Aurelian to awaken.

 

He knew: if Aurelian continued to sleep, they might have half a year together. Perhaps even a full year more. But even so, Fisé had to hope that the end would come soon.

 

As he had feared, the Queen was clearly growing anxious. Fisé felt sincerely sorry for her.

 

In the past, the blooming roses in the Sleeping Forest had helped justify Aurelian's prolonged rest. But now, those roses were dwindling. He had no excuse left.

 

To heal the body of one who had once died… to nurture it until it could awaken once more… I have poured every drop of my power into this task. I can feel myself hollowing out. My power—once thought limitless—is thinning. And somehow, I know: the end is near.

 

Lying beside Aurelian, Fisé curled his fingers—now thin and brittle like twigs—around Aurelian's hand.

 

There had been a time when his intuition screamed that saving Aurelian was impossible. He had ignored it, stubbornly, defied it with sheer will. But now, another intuition had taken its place—one that whispered, Your wish will come true.

 

And with it came clarity. He knew what that wish would cost.

 

When Aurelian wakes… it will be the moment I vanish. A fairy's death is not like a human's. I will simply become the fragrance of roses—and fade from before his eyes. I won't be able to touch him. I won't be able to speak to him.

 

If I disappear the moment he awakens, he will surely be devastated.

 

If only I could spend just a day—or even two—by his side after he opens his eyes. To speak parting words. To say goodbye.

 

But that, too, felt impossible. And the deep conviction that he would not be granted that time gnawed at him. He lacked the strength to fight fate. He was too exhausted to defy it now.

 

Aurelian… you must live. Be a good king. Live a life of happiness…

 

Even as night approached, Fisé could not rise from the bed of white roses.

 

He wanted to light the lamp before it grew too dark, but his frail body—so thin it seemed barely living—could not muster the will to move. Lately, even reading had become difficult. He could no longer tend to the horse, relying entirely on the cat, Launis. He now needed a cane just to walk.

 

He spent nearly all his hours lying here, his hand resting gently on the blood-red rose blooming at Aurelian's chest. It wasn't merely fairy power that sustained the prince anymore—it was Fisé's very life.

 

He now understood, painfully, just how impossible it was to bring the dead back to life.

 

"Please, stop this… at this rate, you'll vanish!"

 

As if echoing his thoughts, Launis's voice rang through his memory.

 

Those words had been spoken again and again over the past three years, so often he'd lost count. At times, Launis had even meowed piteously as a cat, pleading in his own way. Fisé had nothing to offer in return but his own farewell—words he, too, had repeated countless times:

 

"If I disappear, please stay with Aurelian."

 

Even if I tell myself I want to be forgotten, that I want him to find joy in marriage and fatherhood… perhaps, deep down, I don't want to be forgotten at all. I'll leave no bones behind when I vanish, so maybe that's why I cling to Launis. So that part of me stays near him. I tell myself it's to keep Aurelian from feeling lonely… but am I only trying to leave a scar on his heart? To linger, even after I'm gone?

 

Unable to decipher his own heart, Fisé wiped away the tears threatening to fall.

 

Let Launis cry all he wants. But he himself… he had no right to weep.

 

If he could only turn back time—like unspooling thread wound tightly around a weight—he could have stopped that terrible day from ever happening. But no matter how much he regretted it, time would not reverse. He still had some flesh on his hands then, before the joints began to show so starkly. With those very hands, he had gripped the rose he had conjured and driven it into Aurelian's chest.

 

No matter what he sacrificed, that truth would never change. No amount of suffering could atone for it—it was a punishment of his own making.

 

"Fisé!"

 

Launis's voice rang out from the north just as Fisé had been imagining Aurelian as king, speaking with Launis at his side.

 

The cat's paws were swift. Before Fisé could lift his upper body, Launis had already arrived at the flower bed by the pond.

 

"I went to check on Twydal Castle last night—Fisé, something terrible has happened!" he cried as he ran. Fisé immediately sensed that something had shifted in the world beyond. He had already felt the signs since yesterday. Perhaps nearing death had sharpened his instincts.

 

"The king… that man has finally drawn his last breath!"

 

Panting heavily—unusual for a cat—Launis looked unsure how Fisé would take the news. His expression was more solemn than Fisé had ever seen.

 

But Fisé felt… nothing. It was as though he'd been told of the passing of some distant, unrelated monarch. There was no emotion in him for the king's death.

 

What he did feel—what pressed heavily on his heart—was the deepening sense that his time with Aurelian was nearing its end. Now that the king was dead, Aurelian would have to return to the castle.

 

And it was Fisé's role to awaken him—using the last of his fairy power.

 

"Fisé… there's something else," Launis said hesitantly, ears twitching. "Something terrible. A minister who opposes the Queen has issued a proclamation: 'Whoever awakens Prince Aurelian shall be granted the rank of High Knight.'"

 

Fisé could only gasp.

 

A minister opposing the Queen? He had never heard anything of the sort. He had no idea what had happened.

 

"What happened at the castle?" he asked.

 

"I only know what I saw," Launis said. "But the Queen seemed deeply worried. I'm sure she's been bearing this burden for a long time. Still, she chose to believe in you. She waited patiently, sending you gifts. But over the years, less and less rose oil could be harvested. Some ministers stopped listening to her. Some even suggested leading the army to destroy the Thorn Cage. Others wanted to burn the forest down. The Queen stood her ground. She fought them while continuing to guard the Sleeping Forest and the Thorn Cage."

 

"…And now that the king has died, some of those ministers are moving on their own?"

 

"Yes. And among the people… there are those who believe you should be captured and the prince saved by force. That outrageous reward has stirred them up. Armed with weapons and farming tools, a great crowd is marching this way."

 

Realizing the situation was even more dire than he had imagined, Fisé reached for the lamp.

 

In front of Launis, unsure of what to do or say, he simply struck the flame in silence.

 

If only he could mourn—weep aloud and pour out his heart, knowing this night might be the last he would ever spend beside Aurelian. But he couldn't. He didn't have that right.

 

Had this sorrow been brought upon him by others, perhaps he could have cried. But everything that had happened was by his own hand.

 

The ones who deserved to cry were Aurelian—robbed of three years of his life—and the queen. As for Fisé, he had no right to shed even a single tear.

 

"Fisé… you can't run, can you?"

 

Launis's question was met with a silent nod.

 

Fisé looked up. Through a small opening at the top of the Thorn Cage, the faint glow of the moon could be seen. The sky was a deep, ruddy violet—layers of red and blue mingling in rich gradients, breathtaking in their melancholy.

 

By dawn, no doubt, the crowd of ambitious men would arrive. Unlike when the cage had first been formed, Fisé no longer had the strength to reinforce it. Over the three years, the thorns had withered, losing much of their moisture. Breaking them down—or even burning them—was now possible.

 

"Launis… I'm sorry. You just returned, and yet… let me have this final night."

 

The final night with Aurelian. The night he would offer up all his remaining power to awaken him, and vanish in return. Fisé was prepared for that fate.

 

He had wanted more time… but he also felt he had already been given enough.

 

Though guilty of a grave sin, he had stolen the Sun Prince from the queen and the people and kept him to himself for three years.

 

He had spent his days lying beside him, gazing at his sleeping face, touching his flowing hair, brushing his cheek, pressing kisses to his brow. Though his body had withered with exhaustion, his heart had never been more full.

 

 

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