Samain may have escaped, but the one pursuing him was Retendon of Mutarion. A man is hailed as born to wield a sword. He raced through the wind with elite knights in tow, hot on Samain’s heels, and it was only a matter of time before the news of their chase would spread.
Fortunately, Iris had survived once again. Her unborn child remained unharmed, and Iris herself was shielded by magical protection, the child protecting the mother.
“Hello, Síd.”
As Iris spoke in her drugged state, Sidrain, who had been fixated on her, his eyes unfocused, widened. Iris smiled through her drowsy haze as she observed the red tears flowing from his eyes. Her beloved had a surprisingly tender side. He had caught a dragon and pierced his heart with a sword. Well, he’d just stabbed it, really. He was a sentimental man.
As Iris weakly stretched her arms, Sidrain collapsed into her embrace. She patted his broad back. “It’s alright, Síd. It’s over,” she whispered tenderly. Sidrain nodded in response to her loving voice.
The nightmare had come to an end. She had returned.
But the vines of hatred in Sidrain’s heart were even longer than his veins, entwining his very soul. Without revealing his emotions, he showered her cheek and ear with small kisses, murmuring softly.
“My queen, you’ve returned well. You’ve endured.”
“Yeah…”
“Our child is perfectly fine too. It seems like we’ve got a little miracle on our hands. You protected the baby with your magic, and the baby protected you.”
For the first time, a hint of affection for the child grew. The child loved Iris, their mother. Even though it might not have fully developed yet, the baby instinctively protected its mother. That was comforting.
“They seem like a good one. But… the child, yeah, it’d be better if they just received protection.”
“From now on, that’s how it’ll be. There won’t be any more incidents like this.”
“Yeah… Síd, I’m… so sleepy…”
Iris drifted back to sleep once more. The courtiers had said she needed to rest for a while. She would sleep and let the magic maximize its healing during this time.
Sidrain gently traced his fingers over Iris’s blurry bruises. Was she in pain? When Sidrain asked Elaine, he replied that Iris would be fine. Iris had slept deeply, protecting herself, especially the unborn child. She had safeguarded herself internally, so while there might be external bruising, Iris herself wouldn’t have felt any pain. Even now, in her drowsy state, she remains oblivious to the pain, thanks to the medicine and slumber.
She wasn’t hurting. That was the only faint comfort amidst this dire situation.
“Sleep well, my queen.”
Sidrain kissed Iris’s closed eyes.
Just rest deeply in a beautiful dream. Don’t look at the harsh reality. There are things you shouldn’t see, my lady.
As Sidrain’s face, sweet with love, kissed Iris with her eyes closed, his once loving eyes turned as red as fire.
Sidrain gently laid Iris down, tucked the sheets around her, and then got up.
“No one should disturb her.”
King Oswald nodded in agreement. Sidrain had originally intended to replace all of Iris’s knights with his own, but he was convinced otherwise by Pow of Portwall. Pow’s objections were twofold: firstly, regardless of who they were, the situation was unavoidable, and secondly, it would be best to provide the queen, who was already unstable, with as comfortable an environment as possible. The second reason, of course, struck a chord with Sidrain. Given that the first reason was valid, Sidrain ultimately decided to keep Iris’s knights as they were. After all, they were more loyal to Iris than anyone else. The four knights who had taken Iris had perished in a gruesome manner. In other words, they had fought to the end to protect Iris. It meant that they were willing to stand by Iris until the very end. Being outnumbered was inevitable.
“Yeah, are they still alive?”
In response to Sidrain’s question, Pow hesitated for a moment before replying, “If you’re asking about Margaret Surah, then strictly speaking, she’s alive.”
Well, she hadn’t died, so she was still alive. Pow thought. Strictly speaking, Margaret Surah was still alive.
No one had paid much attention to Margaret’s well-being, so her life had been truly miserable. To put it mildly, it was miserable. She was, after all, the Queen’s adulteress, so she was confined to an underground dungeon. She endured various tortures, and there was barely any unblemished skin left on her. The only stroke of luck was that she was an elderly woman, which led the tormentors, fearing for her life, to show a little restraint. Margaret, however, did not feel it that way. That’s just how her tormentors saw it.
Margaret screamed like a pig with its throat cut, but at some point, she simply wept. Then, at some other point, she might have been weeping or merely breathing; it was impossible to tell. She was covered in blood, and her face was grotesquely swollen. Her whole body was the same.
Samain may have escaped, but the one pursuing him was Retendon of Mutarion. A man is hailed as born to wield a sword. He raced through the wind with elite knights in tow, hot on Samain’s heels, and it was only a matter of time before the news of their chase would spread.
Fortunately, Iris had survived once again. Her unborn child remained unharmed, and Iris herself was shielded by magical protection, the child protecting the mother.
“Hello, Síd.”
As Iris spoke in her drugged state, Sidrain, who had been fixated on her, his eyes unfocused, widened. Iris smiled through her drowsy haze as she observed the red tears flowing from his eyes. Her beloved had a surprisingly tender side. He had caught a dragon and pierced his heart with a sword. Well, he’d just stabbed it, really. He was a sentimental man.
As Iris weakly stretched her arms, Sidrain collapsed into her embrace. She patted his broad back. “It’s alright, Síd. It’s over,” she whispered tenderly. Sidrain nodded in response to her loving voice.
The nightmare had come to an end. She had returned.
But the vines of hatred in Sidrain’s heart were even longer than his veins, entwining his very soul. Without revealing his emotions, he showered her cheek and ear with small kisses, murmuring softly.
“My queen, you’ve returned well. You’ve endured.”
“Yeah…”
“Our child is perfectly fine too. It seems like we’ve got a little miracle on our hands. You protected the baby with your magic, and the baby protected you.”
For the first time, a hint of affection for the child grew. The child loved Iris, their mother. Even though it might not have fully developed yet, the baby instinctively protected its mother. That was comforting.
“They seem like a good one. But… the child, yeah, it’d be better if they just received protection.”
“From now on, that’s how it’ll be. There won’t be any more incidents like this.”
“Yeah… Síd, I’m… so sleepy…”
Iris drifted back to sleep once more. The courtiers had said she needed to rest for a while. She would sleep and let the magic maximize its healing during this time.
Sidrain gently traced his fingers over Iris’s blurry bruises. Was she in pain? When Sidrain asked Elaine, he replied that Iris would be fine. Iris had slept deeply, protecting herself, especially the unborn child. She had safeguarded herself internally, so while there might be external bruising, Iris herself wouldn’t have felt any pain. Even now, in her drowsy state, she remains oblivious to the pain, thanks to the medicine and slumber.
She wasn’t hurting. That was the only faint comfort amidst this dire situation.
“Sleep well, my queen.”
Sidrain kissed Iris’s closed eyes.
Just rest deeply in a beautiful dream. Don’t look at the harsh reality. There are things you shouldn’t see, my lady.
As Sidrain’s face, sweet with love, kissed Iris with her eyes closed, his once loving eyes turned as red as fire.
Sidrain gently laid Iris down, tucked the sheets around her, and then got up.
“No one should disturb her.”
King Oswald nodded in agreement. Sidrain had originally intended to replace all of Iris’s knights with his own, but he was convinced otherwise by Pow of Portwall. Pow’s objections were twofold: firstly, regardless of who they were, the situation was unavoidable, and secondly, it would be best to provide the queen, who was already unstable, with as comfortable an environment as possible. The second reason, of course, struck a chord with Sidrain. Given that the first reason was valid, Sidrain ultimately decided to keep Iris’s knights as they were. After all, they were more loyal to Iris than anyone else. The four knights who had taken Iris had perished in a gruesome manner. In other words, they had fought to the end to protect Iris. It meant that they were willing to stand by Iris until the very end. Being outnumbered was inevitable.
“Yeah, are they still alive?”
In response to Sidrain’s question, Pow hesitated for a moment before replying, “If you’re asking about Margaret Surah, then strictly speaking, she’s alive.”
Well, she hadn’t died, so she was still alive. Pow thought. Strictly speaking, Margaret Surah was still alive.
No one had paid much attention to Margaret’s well-being, so her life had been truly miserable. To put it mildly, it was miserable. She was, after all, the Queen’s adulteress, so she was confined to an underground dungeon. She endured various tortures, and there was barely any unblemished skin left on her. The only stroke of luck was that she was an elderly woman, which led the tormentors, fearing for her life, to show a little restraint. Margaret, however, did not feel it that way. That’s just how her tormentors saw it.
Margaret screamed like a pig with its throat cut, but at some point, she simply wept. Then, at some other point, she might have been weeping or merely breathing; it was impossible to tell. She was covered in blood, and her face was grotesquely swollen. Her whole body was the same.
