The strangest thing about not being able to move as you would like to is the constant reminder that you have an injury.
For all my life, I've been told that if you leave a wound as it is, it will eventually dry up and you'll forget that it is even there.
How dishonest.
I am advertently convinced that once you have a wound, the entire mortal world makes it their duty to remind you of its existence constantly.
Like how the carriage that I am currently being transported to Einar in. How it shakes coincidently when the wound is acting up.
How the wind is hitting me nowhere but my left side of the waist. How the sweat dripping inside my shirt because of that is all seeping to nowhere but that exact fucking point.
Ha, the more this wound burns, the more I am reminded how much of an easy death I gave to Behan and how much more torturous I should make things for Schwein.
Ranke had whatsoever no consideration for my condition, so he decided it was better to hammer the iron when It was hot.
So here I am, in this rickety old carriage, rattling down a road that feels more like a punishment than a path. The stab wound in my back is a constant, sharp reminder of the incompetence that surrounds me as if I needed any more proof of how useless people can be.
Each bump in the road drives the pain deeper, but it's almost... amusing. Pain has a way of focusing the mind, stripping away the nonsense.
I'm being taken to the Einar duchy to meet my so-called fiancée. The fact that she shares the name of my dead mother is, I'm told, a coincidence. As if having the of a corpse is going to stir some deep, emotional connection in me.
They think I care. They think it matters.
The name, the wound, the carriage—it's all the same to me.
I'm supposed to meet this Himmel and play the part of the dutiful son, the promising heir. Smile, nod, and pretend I'm anything other than what I am.
How nonsensical.
And then there's Licht.
The bright, shining beacon of optimism sitting across from me, endlessly yammering on about how wonderful it's going to be once we arrive at Einar.
I should've shot it off when he offered to ride together.
You'd think surviving a life-and-death situation together—one that left me with this charming stab wound—would've taught him a bit of restraint. But no, I was severely mistaken.
Licht's been going on for what feels like hours now, rattling off a list of all the things he wants to show me once we arrive. He's practically bouncing in his seat, like a child excited for a festival.
It's nauseating.
"You're going to love Einar, Kaltes," he says, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. "The forests are unlike anything you've seen. The trees are ancient, their roots twisting through the earth like the veins of the land itself. And the castle—oh, you'll see, it's magnificent! Built on a cliff overlooking the sea, the waves crashing against the rocks below... it's like something out of a legend."
I nod, offering a tight smile that probably looks more like a grimace.
"Sounds impressive, Licht."
I'm already imagining pushing him off that cliff.
Wouldn't that be poetic? The heir to Einar dashed against the rocks below, just like the waves.
But no, that would complicate things. Killing him would be a headache I don't need right now. I have my plate full as it is.
"And the food!" Licht continues, oblivious to my growing irritation. "You've never tasted anything like it. The chefs in the castle are renowned throughout the duchy. I'll have them prepare a feast for your arrival. And you have to try the wine—our vineyards produce the finest vintages. You won't find anything better in all the kingdoms."
Another nod, another forced smile.
"I'll look forward to it."
'Or I'll pour it all over your head if you don't shut up soon.'
Honestly, how can one person talk so much? Doesn't he get tired of his own voice?
How quaint.
"There's also a library," he says, leaning forward as if sharing some great secret. "It's said to be one of the largest in the land. Scrolls, manuscripts, and books from every corner of the world. I know you're fond of reading, Kaltes—I thought we could spend some time there together. I could show you some of the rare volumes we've collected over the years."
'I am engaged to your sister, not you, you dimwit.'
I arch an eyebrow, trying to muster genuine interest.
"A library? That sounds... intriguing."
The thought of spending more time with Licht, even in a library, is about as appealing as reopening this stab wound myself.
"And then," Licht continues, with the enthusiasm of someone who truly believes this is all riveting, "I'll take you on a tour of the lands. You'll see the villages, the farmlands, the people—they're good, honest folk. They'll welcome you with open arms. And the mountains! We could go riding in the foothills, just the two of us. The view from the peaks is breathtaking."
You'd think I'm moving to Einar.
How wonderful.
The thought of spending more time alone with him, listening to his endless prattling about mountains and villagers, is almost enough to make me reconsider that whole "not killing him" plan.
"That sounds... lovely, Licht," I say, forcing the words out with as much sincerity as I can fake. "I'm sure it will be a memorable experience."
Memorable, indeed.
Memorable for how much I'll want to forget it all afterward.
But I kept the smile plastered on my face, playing the role that everyone expects of me. After all, the dutiful heir must be polite, must show interest, and must keep the peace.
"Oh, and Kaltes," Licht adds, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, as if this next part is particularly special, "I want to show you something really important once we arrive. There's a place... a secret spot I used to go to as a child. It's hidden away, a perfect place for thinking, for being alone. I've never shown it to anyone else, but... I'd like to show it to you."
I blink, the smile on my face threatening to falter.
A secret spot?
How touching.
The heir to Einar wants to share his most precious childhood hideaway with me. It's almost... sweet, in a sickeningly sentimental sort of way.
"That's... very generous of you, Licht," I said, the words almost sticking in my throat. "I'd be honored."
'Honored, and also contemplating all the different ways I could make that secret spot a permanent resting place for you.'
Licht beams at me, clearly pleased with himself as if he's just offered me the greatest gift in the world.
Licht continued talking, his voice filled with genuine warmth and excitement.
"I knew you'd appreciate it, Kaltes. You're different from the others, you know? You understand things in a way they don't. That's why I'm so glad we survived.... It brought us closer, made us—well, I don't want to sound too sentimental, but it made us brothers, didn't it?"
Brothers. If only he knew how much that word grates on me. But instead of showing my disdain, I give him a smile—one that I've perfected over the years. It's the kind of smile that makes people think I care when, really, I'm calculating how best to shut them up without causing too much of a mess.
It's best to make use of this incredibly convincing face I have.
"Of course, Licht," I said.
A bond?
More like a chain, one that's becoming increasingly difficult to bear.
"I knew you'd understand," Licht said, his eyes shining with that irritating, unwavering trust. "I'm so glad you're coming to Einar. I want you to feel at home there, Kaltes. I want you to see it as your home, too."
My home. The thought is almost laughable. As if I could ever consider a place like Einar as my home.
I nod, offering him a smile that looks more genuine than it feels.
"I appreciate that, Licht," I say. "It means a lot to me."
It means nothing to me. Less than nothing.
"Good," Licht says, leaning back in his seat, clearly satisfied. "You'll see, Kaltes. Einar is a place of peace, a place where you can finally... be yourself. Where we can both be ourselves."
Be myself?
How laughable.
Licht started talking again, about the castle, the people, the future. He's painting a picture of a life that, to him, must seem perfect.
How vain.
The carriage jolted slightly, another bump in the road making the stab wound in my back throb with dull, persistent pain. It was almost a welcome distraction from the endless droning of Licht.
He was still talking—something about the majestic beauty of the Einar forests, or perhaps the grandeur of the castle.
I'd stopped listening to him a while ago, letting his words wash over me like a meaningless tide.
It did no good to listen anyway.
Ting!
That nauseating sound heralded the arrival of a system notification.
The blue-glowing text materialized in the air before me, hovering just at the edge of my vision like an unwanted guest.
['BOOKSHELF-1 NAMES' HAS BEEN ACTIVATED]
['HIMMEL' WAS PROTECTED]
I stared at it, my mind momentarily going still.
Bookshelf-1 used?
Already?
My so-called fiancée hadn't even managed to survive until our first meeting before getting herself into trouble.
How... predictable.
It would seem that Himmel Einar, the girl cursed with my dead mother's name, had managed to bumble her way into a life-threatening situation before I'd even set eyes on her.
How very efficient of her.
I could almost admire the dedication to incompetence it must take to be in mortal peril before the engagement is even formally announced.
It was unsuspecting, the way fate could be twisted and bent to my will.
I'd tested it on my dear father by poisoning his tea. I expected him to die, of course. Well, also I wanted to see if the system would work as advertised. And it did.
The cat's leap had been theatrical, knocking the poisoned cup from his hand at the perfect moment. Bookshelf-1 had turned the wheels of fortune in his favor, and Ranke was none the wiser.
I added Himmel's name just as a countermeasure.
How irritating.
Was it even possible to protect her from her own inevitable idiocy?
It was a simple precaution. I hadn't expected it to be needed so soon.
I glanced at the notification again, my lips curling into a faint, mirthless smile.
Protected by fate, she might be, but it hardly changed the fact that she was already proving herself to be more of a liability than I'd anticipated. I hadn't even arrived at Einar, and already she was causing me trouble.
How delightful.
I glanced over at Licht, still prattling on about his beloved home, blissfully unaware of the machinations at play.
I could almost envision how his precious sister would have most likely followed someone to help them, like he did with Schwein, and got herself in a fix.
"Kaltes, you'll love the view from the castle tower," Licht was saying. "It's breathtaking, especially at dawn. You can see the entire duchy from there."
I nodded, offering him another one of those carefully constructed smiles.
"I'm sure it's lovely, Licht."
Breathtaking?
Yes, I imagine the view would be quite something—especially if Himmel managed to find a way to fall from that very tower.
Would Bookshelf-1 save her then, or would I be free of this tiresome connection at last? It was almost tempting to find out.
The carriage continued its journey, the wheels creaking beneath us. Licht was still talking, still hopeful, still irritatingly cheerful.
And I, for my part, had resumed playing the role of the attentive listener, all the while contemplating the irony of it all.
Himmel Einar—my fiancée, my burden. I could only hope that when we finally met, she would prove to be less of an inconvenience than she already had.