By Zephyria The disaster brought by the high waves was shattered by the hero’s hand and vanished, leaving only a bitter saltiness behind.
All the people of Yulan returned to their daily lives, each with a wondrous story to cherish in their hearts. The meaning of the Golden Turtle was special to the people of Yulan. Those who had witnessed a fragment of the myth they had heard like a dream since childhood were busy chattering about the tales they would pass down for generations.
The Yulan Princess’s generous aid bolstered the people’s spirits. Thanks to her, all the citizens of the Yulan Kingdom were diligently rinsing their wet clothes, clearing away broken dishes, and rebuilding collapsed fences.
Watching the people cheerfully prepare for tomorrow, I too prepared to return to my daily life. I daydreamed of returning to Sierren, boasting about what I had seen and heard to my friends, pretending to be hurt when they teased me, asking if I had even dreamt it, and then clinging to Ivan, feigning hurt.
And then, I walked step by step into a nightmare.
“Ugh…”
“Your arm is dropping again.”
“…”
“Engage your scapula, straight shoulders.”
No matter how I thought about it, I shouldn’t be doing this here.
My thighs, spread shoulder-width apart, trembled violently. My sweat-soaked shirt clung unpleasantly to my body, and my vision swam. Sweat dripped from my temples and jaw, staining the precious carpet.
The Prince’s residence was a place granted by the Yulan royal family as a token of gratitude, originally a villa used by royalty. Due to its proximity to the capital, Yulan Nobles who coveted the Golden Turtle frequently visited.
Among them, the room where I was enduring this torture was none other than the Second Prince’s temporary office.
The Second Prince had announced his intention to make significant use of Ivan, and Ivan had accepted. I, who knew well how wise my husband was, simply complied. Thus, Ivan was tasked with resolving the issue of the researchers from Sierren who had departed to handle the Golden Turtle problem, and with taking charge of all practical matters, including the safe preservation of the Golden Turtle until their arrival.
If it had been the carcass of an ordinary beast, I too would have been busy helping Ivan, running around. However, as a Baroness of commoner birth, with a lower status than the other members of the party, I could not go out carelessly. My husband, worried sick about the possibility of me being kidnapped, could not even look me in the eye out of shame.
Who on earth would kidnap me? Although I behaved myself due to the harsh words exchanged among the higher-ups, I clearly saw Paul, who heard Ivan say I was so fragile I could blow away, quietly cover his mouth with both hands. Is it funny? I find it funny too.
Ivan said he could only feel at ease if I stayed by Mikael’s side. It was a burden, but understandable. At present, the strongest person in Yulan was Mikael. No, not just Yulan. Across the entire continent, it seemed unlikely to find another person who could cleave waves with a sword.
And so, I found myself under Mikael’s protection. …Along with the Second Prince.
When I first entered this room, I was confident I could wait patiently and quietly before those two, better than anyone. With Mikael sitting opposite, radiating a brilliant, noble smile and light, and the Second Prince, exuding overwhelming dignity in the same room, how could I possibly appear unsightly?
Yet, now I was brazenly disturbing them.
“Hkkhh…”
“You’re doing well. Take a deep breath, not yet. Hold on.”
“…”
“I’ll count to fifteen and exhale slowly. One, two…”
“…Done…”
“You don’t have to answer. Don’t make a sound.”
“…”
I felt so wronged. Do I look like I’m answering? A person is dying right now. Even while looking at that beautiful face, I kept getting angry.
I was about to yell that I couldn’t take it anymore because I was so furious, but Mikael, folding the corners of his eyes into a gentle smile, nodded.
“Well done. Now exhale.”
“Heehuk…”
“Arm.”
I struggled to control the breath that kept escaping. Every time I let out a groan, the Second Prince’s gaze, glancing over from that side, felt sharp. Everyone who came and went lowered their posture, entered the room respectfully, and then left with bewildered and awkward expressions after seeing my state.
Earlier, I was too embarrassed by strangers coming and going while I was struggling to even look in their direction, but now, I kept looking hopefully at the passing staff, wishing someone would stop this person.
However, not a single person met my gaze.
Oh, please look. Someone save me. Don’t all act like you don’t see it, no. Please. This harsh world, these cruel people, it’s true that the rich get richer…
“Your head. It’ll hurt later if your neck twists.”
“…Hooookhyeeyee…”
I stopped grumbling inwardly and, following the cruel fairy’s instructions, looked forward again.
I stood with both arms held forward parallel, feet spread shoulder-width apart, knees bent awkwardly, holding the pose. My thighs burned with a heat and pain as if set ablaze, forcing me to grit my teeth.
As my legs trembled, my gaze wavered. I no longer knew if what I was pouring out was sweat, saliva, or tears.
What efficacy does this posture possibly have in protecting my body? It feels like it’s destroying me, not protecting me. I don’t understand why they make us do the ‘invisible chair’ for ten, thirty minutes.
Until now, I had mistakenly believed myself to be much stronger than average.
In friendly wagers among friends that involved strength, I usually won. I could easily lift six sacks of flour at once, which is 120kg. My legs were longer than others, so I was quite good at running, and I had even swung a mace given to me by mercenaries playfully above my head.
But now, I knew I was worse than a newborn goat.
My breath hitched to my throat from this untimely endurance training. Whimpers kept escaping my lips. I looked like a sun-baked mongrel.
Following Mikael’s command, I lay on the living room floor, split my legs, bent my body, did push-ups, and held the invisible chair pose. I lay down again, rolled, got up, and held the invisible chair pose.
Whenever my body, unable to endure, lost strength, Mikael would correct my posture with strange magic. I didn’t understand how a person could be suspended in mid-air without lifting a finger. To me, who only knew a few types of magic stored in artifacts, it was terrifyingly creepy.
If my legs broke, would he fix them? He would, wouldn’t he… since he had three healing artifacts hanging at his waist…
Even knowing that Mikael often brought light and fragile objects like pens, paper, and teacups with his transparent hands using his aura, I was terrified by the sensation of something invisible supporting and manipulating me. I struggled with all my might to assume the pose without help.
Do knights normally do this much? But I’m not even a knight, let alone a mercenary.
A late-blooming defiance rose to my throat, but it subsided as I saw the Second Prince glance at me. I’m the one being punished, why are you glaring at me…
The Second Prince already had a particularly sharp gaze. Every time His Highness cast a fleeting glance in my direction, I felt a chill, as if I had fallen into the jaws of a giant reptile.
The more Mikael’s voice feigned tenderness, the more the Prince’s mood soured. His shallow sighs, cold glances, the angle of his pen strokes, and the tone with which he reprimanded informants made everyone around him watch their step.
Everyone except Mikael.
Mikael acted as if his goal was to drain every drop of fluid from my body. In a calm and gentle tone, he meticulously pointed out the angle of my shoulders, the balance of my waist and knees, the width of my thighs, and my gait. Though his tone was gentle, it simply meant he was displeased with my entire body.
Ivan said I was the prettiest. What do you know. It was unfair enough to be subjected to training that made my limbs tremble, but to also receive the Prince’s harsh gaze made tears well up.
When I felt petty jealousy towards Ivan’s acquaintances, did the other party always feel this way? I’m dying of unfairness.
“Ugh…”
“Good. We’ll take a five-minute break.”
“Hah.”
I was saved. I collapsed onto the carpet floor, panting, and massaged my thighs. I had desperately hoped that the diligent instructor, seeing my pained face, would take pity and end this training, so I deliberately put on my most pitiful expression. But Mikael was a fairy who showed no mercy to human suffering.
How much time passed like that?
Unable to bear it any longer, I insisted on drinking a glass of water and lay down. I felt like I could sell a sail from the Eldos Ho if it meant escaping this endless hellish training. I earnestly prayed inwardly while diligently answering questions.
Ivan, my love. I miss you…
I always missed you, but today, I miss you so, so, so much…
After spending a few more days with the two of them, I learned a few more things.
Mikael, who had seemed so splendid and noble, like starlight in human form or a fairy born from a flower, surprisingly had a casual disposition. If you put it nicely, he was casual, but if you were a bit rough… he was like a mercenary who had rolled around in the marketplace.
Mikael’s expressions were extremely dramatic. He was mostly solemn, but he would often burst into loud laughter. When he laughed, he would slap his thigh and exclaim, “That’s right, yes.”
Ivan was the only noble I knew. In a world where people naturally imbued every glance and cough with intent, Mikael shone uniquely.
His living habits were also peculiar. While nobles might eat small fruits like grapes or cherries with their hands, it was astonishing when he would casually wipe an entire apple on his sleeve and take a bite as a snack. Given his appearance, even when eating like that, he still looked like a nymph born from an apple blossom, which was even more wondrous.
But why would he plop down on the carpet when there was a sofa right in front of him? Of course, it was often for physical training, but whenever he seemed accustomed to living on the floor, I was quite… taken aback.
Was it because he had visited the Yuil Mountains? Yet, neither the Second Prince nor the many knights who came and went from the office behaved that way at all. No, wait. Perhaps it’s because Mikael is the only knight who can act so freely in front of the Second Prince. Other knights might also plop down on the floor behind closed doors.
On the other hand, the Second Prince had very little change in his expression. He seemed very accustomed to conveying his intentions silently with a single blink or nod. Having only seen the Second Prince by Mikael’s side until now, I hadn’t realized it, but when dealing with others, the Prince’s expression was mostly impassive.
Before his strict expression and gaze, most people froze like mice before a snake, their mouths going numb. He seemed born to oppress someone, not just with his status as a Prince, but with his expression, demeanor, and speech.
He habitually regarded the other person’s words with suspicion, often probing them, with a perpetually weary look. Thus, those standing before the Prince would often ramble, bringing up multiple stories to prove each of their statements, and in doing so, would inevitably make a mistake and fall into disgrace.
Most importantly, his possessiveness was very, very, extremely strong…
A little, no, actually, frighteningly so.