Chapter 63: Carwen de Distria (3)
The prime ministers of other countries and the priests of faithful temples all changed. All were helpless in the face of death. Everyone was the same in front of too much pain, so he had to change, too. It was not wrong that he had changed.
He looked at the priest licking his feet.
They had already embraced dozens of men with a body that no one would ever guess for being faithful. They cried and begged for and put dozens of people in them… a face contorted in pain and then a face who had given up.
The ever-changing look.
Weren’t they eager? In the end, they became a person who lived for pleasure.
Happily. Gladly.
“Anything is fine, so bring the King of the Kingdom. Ah, I heard that the King of Sorano Kingdom is so beautiful. I wish it were her.”
"But…!”
“Are you refusing my order now?”
A week after that, the imperial delegation departed.
He looked forward to the day he met her. What about that person in his position? Could she already be broken like him? How crazy would she be? Would her humanity have faded? Where are her flaws?
A few encounters and a few humiliations… On one occasion, he openly showed the difference of his and her position, and on one occasion, he gave her a noble’s finger as a gift to honor her. But still, she was upright and unchanging.
To take responsibility for her subordinate's mistakes and to offer up her chastity without saying a word, and be humane and cover mistakes generously…
Even so, the way she didn’t lose her dignity was so different from him.
He didn't like that.
‘The higher you sit, the more you have to bear the weight of the seat. Does it hurt? That's the weight of your position. Distria.'
She was also in the same position as him… However, they had very different personalities. He didn't like it. That was why he ruined her country, took away her chastity, and disgraced her. He gave her endless ordeals. He didn't care who treated her badly.
It was hatred, it was a twisted feeling somewhere.
* * *
It was already too late when he realized that his hatred for her was wrong.
He vehemently denied it.
It was at that moment that he first realized it, that was when he heard that Arne was about to die. From then on, he sensed something was wrong… it was something he should welcome. He should be glad she chose death…
Still, he wasn't happy. He wasn’t glad.
He wanted her to hold on to her life. It was a contradictory feeling to want her not to die when he held her all her life, shook her, and made her want to die. It was just like that.
He wished she was alive. It was a feeling with no root and no origin.
He touched his throbbing forehead. Was this a weakness?
…No. It wasn't like that.
He wanted Arne to be ruined. This was the feeling he felt wanting her to choose death without being properly broken yet. He made a compromise and took a deep breath.
That was not correct either.
She was assisted by a knight of an enemy country who had helped her to destroy her own country, and was taking advantage of another’s love. She was a straight and upright person who knew neither bending nor compromise. She also asked to meet Rewan.
In the end, the body that was sleeping with him without any emotion and the suppressed moaning burst.
She was broken… little by little, slowly, perfectly.
He tapped the desk with his fingers. In fact, he already knew that Arne was slowly breaking down. Arne, too, had changed and was falling apart. He knew it was going the way he wanted it to… but why was he not happy?
Why? Why did everything start to feel unpleasant…?
He had never taken anything or anyone so seriously. If he didn't like it, he got rid of it, killed it, and made it to his liking though why can't he do that to her?
It was unknown.
He wished that Arne died, to give his troubled heart some rest. Letting out a deep breath through his mouth, he mumbled her name.
“Arne…”
His heart ached for no reason. His breath tightened, so he unbuttoned his shirt.
Tap, tap.
He tapped the desk with his fingers as the words he couldn't contain came out of his mouth.
“I want to kill you.”
He didn't want to kill her. It was something that would not come to fruition. He knew that, too.
“I want you dead.”
Arne made a suicide attempt, he knew. It was a contradiction. He covered his eyes with one hand and spoke of death with his lips as if he was spitting out.
“…I want you to disappear from my life as soon as possible.”
This was his sincerity, what he truly wanted.
Like brainwashing himself, he talked about her death for a long time.
* * *
‘Are you going to kill her?'
The eyes that looked at him were of fear and terror. It was all he wanted. He didn't like that the feeling of fear came out of love for Rewan.
At that time, she was quite different from when she faced Raphael or others’ death.
So, he got even more annoyed.
He tried to brutally kill Rewan right in front of her as she watched, he wanted to. Originally, he had no intention of giving her a choice. It was a kind of impulse. He had no intention of using the elixir on Rewan, and he wanted her to give up on Rewan on her own.
…However, he did not know that Arne would make such a choice. He had no idea that she would be embraced by the drugged commoners in exchange for saving Rewan's life. He did not know that she would undress herself and fall into the abyss.
He wanted to reach out and stop Arne as she fell down the podium.
Raising his hand, he clenched his fist.
Was he such a great person? What was love? What was her love? He wanted to ask why she did that. As he opened his hand, which had been clenched into a fist, his fingernails were deeply dented and created blood pools.
He closed his eyes.
‘Hatred is an emotion that goes hand in hand with love, so beware of bottomless hatred.’
His heart thumped.
It was pure hate… Disgusting hate. That was it, that was all.
No, this…
…This was an outburst for what he didn’t have.
This was greed for what he wanted to have. To want to see Rewan, and even in this situation, she thought of Rewan. He wanted to have her heart. This was greed, not love.
As time went on, his breath tightened. Uneasy, unpleasant, and fluttering.
Should he just kill Arne and get her out of his sight? He thought for a long time. He had to kill her, who stirred up unpleasant feelings in his chest. Still, he didn't want to kill her, and he didn't want to see her die.
At the same time, he hated Arne, who was upright and loved Rewan.
Like an endless cycle, his thoughts returned to the starting point. He wanted to get rid of it right in front of his eyes, and it was right when considered with his rational judgment though something prevented him from doing that as if his jaw was blocked.
It was not rational. He couldn't act rationally. Sensibility took precedence over reason, was this love? No… then what about this burning hatred that paralyzes the brain, paralyzes reason?
There were such nights, and there were such worries.
He tried hard to deny his feelings.
* * *
He was inhuman and heartless. He wasn't someone who could use an entire bucket of elixir just to erase the scars of s*x abuse. He wasn't one to kill people without regard for status, just because they mingled with a s*x slave.
He wanted her ruin, but he didn't want her death. It was painful to see her die and disappear. He couldn’t imagine his life without her.
Thump.
His heart raced. Was this love?
“Arne.”
He muttered her name.
In response, his heart beat loudly. The direction it was pointing was clear. Even if he wanted to deny that his heart was inclined, it was inevitable when his heart would scream and make sounds.
Distria loved Arne.
After admitting that, he felt relieved. From that moment on, he thought about the future together with Arne—children, marriage and all the things he would do for her in the future.
Arne's opinion did not come anywhere.
He had that kind of love.
Selfish and self-conscious, only to himself. Eating the other out of greed, and in the end, there was no way to know the end…
He had such love.
Aware of his love, he decided to put things away from Arne's side from then on. It was helpful to him and needed by the Empire, but that was no longer on his mind. For example, Acacia or Lepis.
Love obscured his eyes.
It was a stupid choice. He knew, too.
“Prepare for war with the Kingdom of Elpensia.”
“However, it doesn't even have borders with us, and it's too far away from the Empire…”
Distria looked coldly at one of the young nobles who disputed his words.
"Noisy. I'll ask Lord Acacia to go out. I hope to hear good news.”
After that, a lot of things came and went. Sending Lepis as chancellor of a vassal country, and many other things. It was clear that the agenda was to clear the caretakers around Arne. There were a lot of backlashes and there was a lot of opposition, but he ignored them all.
“Your Majesty, don't you think about the safety of the Empire? How could you? I heard that you spent all of your elixir on her. Why…?!"
"Stop. I won't listen to any more complaints.”
Saying that, he got up from his seat.
It took more time than expected. Distria got up and walked quickly. The other nobles stared blankly at the place where he escaped.
They thought the Emperor was crazy about the woman.
He was impatient. Even now, Arne was still sleeping with anyone and having s*x with anyone. He had no intention of leaving things alone for such a long time. He walked fast.
His lovely Arne… He missed her.
He opened the door to where she was. Blank eyes, disheveled attire. He stepped closer and spread Arne's legs apart. As he put his hand in, the s*men, which he didn’t know whom it belonged to, came out along with thin love liquid.
He slapped Arne on the cheek and kicked her in the stomach. It was anger and hatred. Did she know what decision he made for her today? It was a one-sided beating.
He spat out words in anger.
“Hey, what more can I do? Arne. Do you want me to kill all the nobles here, huh? Say something."
She didn't understand Distria's anger. In the corner, she crawled and licked the tips of his toes while gasping in pain. As he bent down and looked at Arne, it was a strange feeling.
Arne that he loved… The submissive Arne.
It was Arne that he could control at will.
…But, he wasn't happy.
“Do you want to die by provoking me like that?”
He loved her, but he hated her. It was unbearable anger. Why didn't he like Arne, who had adjusted to his taste?
He didn't know.
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