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Salute for Lucien
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Lucienne, a beautiful but lowly maid.
To her, life was just something to endure,
Death was like a familiar and numbed daily routine.
Until that day, when she met him by chance.

At first, he was an indifferent and arrogant priest,
Then, a son of a baron’s family, weak and recuperating.
His status changed with each encounter, but she knew.
He was one who could wield a blade without hesitation to cut people,
And was neither a priest nor a frail nobleman.

“Then use my room. You can sleep there for a day or two.”
“Just in case, let me tell you this,
…You shouldn’t say such things to just anyone.”
“Lars is the only one I’d willingly offer my room to.”

It didn’t matter who he was.
From the moment she captured those cold, elegant green eyes,
Death, which had always been close to Lucienne, became unfamiliar.

She wanted to live.
No, she wanted him to live.
For that, she could do anything.
Even if it meant giving up herself.

“Abandon the thought that you can do anything, Lucienne.
Just grasp the luck that has rolled into your hands.”

But she didn’t know that this very thing angered him.

You jerk. What did I do so wrong?
…When will I see you again? At least say something before you go!

“Don’t worry, Lars.
As you said, I’ll surely grasp the luck that has rolled into my hands.”

For the will to live sometimes blooms as fiercely as love.

Translator

  • should probably stop picking up new novels. i'll try.