Since I Don't Know Anything About It, Shall We Break Up, Your Majesty? - Chapter 47

‘Help me, Tamia.’

Ah, this is my karma.

The moment Tamia saw Lumiere, she sensed that this was fate.

She wanted to help the precious Miss she had turned away from.

Even if it meant shaving off her own life force.

So Tamia spoke of the Moom family’s secret that she had never told anyone before.

She said she wanted to help her with that.

In an age where science and industry replace God, there was a much greater possibility that Lumiere wouldn’t believe her story.

Moreover, how could she believe the words of a nanny who had disappeared like she was running away and met again after 20 years, but Lumiere believed.

Perhaps because she was cornered to the point where she needed to grasp at straws.

“…I was really grateful then, Miss. And, I was really sorry.”

Tamia whispered seemingly in atonement while wrapping a shower gown over Lumiere’s shoulders.

“What are you sorry for? It’s all in the past.”

“No. It’s not all in the past. A promise remains in the soul until it’s kept.”

“Promise? What promise?”

Lumiere looked at Tamia with a puzzled face, as if she didn’t remember at all.

Tamia smiled kindly and led Lumiere, who was looking up at her brightly, to lay her on the soft bed.

‘If you’re scared, I’ll lend you my embrace anytime. If you feel lonely, run to me. I’ll hug you so tightly that you won’t have such thoughts.’

‘Really? Until when, Tamia?’

‘…Until our Miss is no longer afraid of the darkness.’

‘Is that a promise…?’

‘Yes, I promise. Now sleep. I’ll help you have good dreams.’

It felt like yesterday when she embraced the fragile warmth that burrowed into her arms.

“…I couldn’t keep it then, but I’ll definitely keep it now.”

“Hmm, what promise are you talking about?”

“It’s not time yet. You’ll know everything when the time comes.”

Tamia said in a small voice, stroking Lumiere’s eyes several times.

Each time her fingers passed over Lumiere’s eyelashes, the fluttering eyelids gradually lowered.

“Sleep well tonight, Miss.”

It’s not time for you to recover your memories yet.

* * *

Tick-tock- Tick-tock-

The pocket watch held in the hand hidden by a glove ticked loudly.

Although he was holding the watch, the man seemed to have no intention of checking the time, instead passing time by twirling the round watch between his fingers.

Sitting with his legs crossed, leaning against the sofa in the reception room, his posture was calm and composed without a hint of impatience.

Leaning back on the sofa with one hand on the backrest, he suddenly muttered while looking out the window.

“…It’s taking too long.”

It was already too late to meet someone.

And it wasn’t even a pre-arranged appointment.

Yet, the man’s eyes were arrogant, as if it was unthinkable that the king would dare to keep him waiting.

It would have been impossible in a normal king-subject relationship, but he had nothing to be wary of.

Landers looked at the tightly closed door with somewhat bored eyes.

‘Did they say they were squeezing out pus?’

The king’s physician had stopped him, saying that fever had risen all night and pus had appeared all over his face.

They were currently squeezing out the pus, and said they would inform the king if he could wait a little, but there was no sign of it ending.

’30 minutes.’

In fact, if it weren’t for the pus squeezing, he would have opened the door and entered long ago.

No matter how strong Landers’ stomach was, even for him, seeing that pus would be a torment.

It would be even more unpleasant if combined with the fishy smell of blood.

‘…If it’s real, that is.’

The extra time he had allowed was over.

If he delayed any longer, there would be no meaning in his sudden visit.

Landers opened his pocket watch to check the time one last time before standing up.

Even if they were really squeezing out pus, this much time was more than enough.

If there was any other reason, he could see for himself with his own eyes.

“I’m tired of waiting. I’ll see His Majesty’s condition myself.”

“Please wait. His Majesty is still under treatment.”

The soldiers guarding the front of the king’s bedroom stopped him.

A strange light gleamed in Landers’ eyes.

Originally, the soldiers guarding the king’s palace were under Tartien’s command.

But from some point, people gradually changed, and now the soldiers guarding the front of the king’s bedroom had all been replaced with the king’s personal soldiers.

‘What a laughable effort.’

Is a lion still a lion even when bedridden?

If he wanted to change them back to Tartien’s people, he could do so at any time.

But he didn’t, to give the burned lion a place to hide.

Isn’t it laughable?

A hiding lion.

Landers found the king’s struggle amusing.

His once sky-high existence now flounders in the mud.

Seeing the noble being that was incomparable to anyone become so squalid was far more unpleasant than he had thought.

Can one become the sky just by wearing a crown?

A sky that fears the eagle is no longer the sky.

The sky of Levania has already fallen.

The right person should sit in the right place.

So, it’s time for a new king to fill that seat soon.

Until then, Landers had to watch the king’s desperate struggle.

It was unbearably unpleasant and irritating.

Like a hangnail, the king’s existence was bothersome.

To the point where he wanted to remove him from his sight as soon as possible.

“If you don’t move, I’ll cut your throat right here.”

Landers pressured the guard with a soft and elegant tone.

As he flinched and hesitated, the tightly closed door opened slightly, and Fuego, the chief administrator and the king’s chamberlain, came out.

“You don’t need to threaten the poor soldier.”

He said, staring at Landers with a dark face.

“Come in. The treatment is over.”

* * *

The room filled with incense was full of pungent smoke and very dark.

Landers, who entered the bedroom, couldn’t talk to the king who had finished treatment, despite the time he had waited.

“Unfortunately, His Majesty couldn’t endure the treatment process and fainted. When he wakes up, I’ll tell him that the young duke of Tartien visited, along with painkillers.”

In other words, it meant to get out of here for today.

Landers looked at the king’s face, who supposedly fainted from pain, with cold eyes.

They said his face was full of pus, and indeed, there was no healthy part left, making it difficult to recognize his face.

Landers, who had been staring at the face full of medicine and bandages, smiled gently and muttered as if talking to himself.

“I received education with His Majesty when we were young. We spent about a year with the same teacher, and many of us often dozed off because the teacher’s lessons were so boring. But His Majesty at that time never dozed off even once and received a lot of praise from the teacher.”

Why is he suddenly talking about his childhood?

Fuego and Brook looked at Landers with bewildered eyes.

“…I never thought I’d get to see the sleeping face I didn’t see back then like this now.”

Landers chuckled as if amused.

“I have something to tell His Majesty, so please withdraw, both of you.”

“His Majesty is now unconscious…!”

“How many lives does a royal physician carry around?”

“……!”

In an instant, the atmosphere turned cold.

Landers stared at Brook with ice-blue eyes for a while, then suddenly smiled brightly.

“His Majesty and I are old friends. Surely you don’t think I would do something to His Majesty? I came because I have something to say to him while he’s asleep, so please wait a little further away.”

It meant that he could punish him as much as he wanted, but he would generously overlook it and just have a conversation.

Even though he understood all of this, Brook couldn’t easily back down.

It was Fuego who pulled the hesitating Brook away.

“We won’t go too far away, as we don’t know when His Majesty might have another attack.”

“As you wish.”

Landers watched them move away with a relaxed expression.

With the wide-open middle door between them, the three stood in tense confrontation.

When they stood at a distance where they couldn’t hear each other’s conversations clearly, Landers turned his gaze from Brook and Fuego to the king.

Watching Landers’ back as he turned, Fuego muttered in a small voice as if sighing.

“…That’s why I told him to come in at least once every three days.”

‘No. Even if an urgent messenger was sent, it would be difficult to arrive within 30 minutes, even if they hurried.’

Just in case, he tried to buy time and wait, but it was useless.

‘A clear ambush. It could have been a big problem if we weren’t on standby.’

If Fuego hadn’t been there, they wouldn’t have been able to stop this arrogant man from barging in recklessly.

But at this moment, there was someone even more anxious than Fuego.

Fuego, glancing at Brook, grabbed his shoulder firmly and said,

“It will be alright.”

But a few words like this wouldn’t erase Brook’s anxiety.

Because the one lying there pretending to be the king was none other than Brook’s son, ‘Hans Bales’.