The Young Consort Wants to Live Quietly

Chapter 81

* * *

It seemed the Empress truly did not know that abilities could be stored and used in the wish-granting jewel.

The history of Seora is quite long. Since it was passed down through blood, the Peach Blossom ability of the emperor must have lasted just as long. If they never utilized it even once over all those generations, it truly meant it was impossible.

Still, just in case, I took the wish-granting jewel to Yuri, who was somewhat of an expert, and received a shocking yet obvious answer.

“Ah, an artifact, you say? I do sense tremendous mana from it…”

Yes, that part was good.

“But if you don’t know what kind of magic is cast on it, you can’t use the artifact.”

That was the problem. The wish-granting jewel contained numerous abilities.

I tried to list out and use those abilities while holding the wish-granting jewel, but they all failed.

Thinking it might be because I don’t have an ability, I asked Gowun and Yuri to try as well, but the result was the same.

In the end, I had to painfully acknowledge that this wish-granting jewel had no power other than storing abilities. The only fortunate thing was that this ability and mana depletion was temporary.

If the mana depletion continued even after the wish-granting jewel was found to be useless, I wouldn’t be able to face Yuri.

When I told Yuri that fact, he seemed to briefly wonder why I had gone through all this trouble, but soon he was overjoyed.

In the midst of that, the envoys from the Western Continent demanded that I help them return safely to the Western Continent since they had all been imprisoned and couldn’t go back, in exchange for the artifact. How cunning.

Facing that bright face, I felt a bit envious of Yuri. Your problem is all solved…

I had said there were two methods before, but in reality, it was close to one.

An occasional mutant without an ability was very rare, and among them, I had never even heard of an occasional mutant who gained an ability later in life. So I had placed all my hopes on the wish-granting jewel, but to have this result…

The last remaining hope was the historical records. Perhaps there might be at least one case of an ability appearing later.

But the records were vast, and even after finishing all that work, I was afraid of the futility that would come if I gained nothing.

So I decided to take a break to clear my head and handle some other matters that needed to be resolved.

“…”

I came to see Sunyu.

Despite my sudden visit, he readily accepted me. But I couldn’t say anything.

I quietly stared at the table, then slightly raised my eyes and met his deep navy blue eyes. As our eyes met, he smiled gently at me who had been silently looking at him. Unable to lower my gaze again after meeting those eyes, I couldn’t help but notice.

I had seen those eyes once before, but Sunyu had such a sad smile.

“…I heard you wished to be dethroned.”

Ignoring my pricking conscience, I spat out the question that had been lingering in my mouth.

“Are you trying to leave the palace?”

Those words came out a bit urgently. I had thought there was some connection between him occasionally having such sad eyes and him trying to leave the palace.

But if he left the palace, it would be quite troublesome. The palace where abilities didn’t work was a safe zone and a bottom line.

If even that disappeared when the palace itself wasn’t completely safe, it would be truly dangerous. As if he had seen through all my thoughts, he answered plainly.

“I won’t leave. Knowing my role, I must remain here.”

His voice sounded like he was resigned to it, which didn’t sit well with me. Perhaps it showed, as Sunyu smiled.

“You seem to feel sorry for me.”

To be honest, I did feel a bit sorry. It felt like I was forcibly keeping him here when he wanted to leave.

“Why do you want to leave?”

So I asked like that, pretending not to know anything. Perhaps he simply doesn’t want to talk about it, or it may not be a light enough story to share with someone he hasn’t known for long.

But sometimes, there are stories you can comfortably share precisely because they have nothing to do with me.

And I learned from him that sharing like that can make you feel a bit more at ease.

“You still don’t know my name, do you, Your Majesty?”

I swallowed and spoke as calmly as possible. As if it didn’t matter.

“If you have a story you want to share, I will tell you my name after the story ends. Then from that moment on, you will define me, so all the previous words will be forgotten.”

Sunyu doesn’t know my name. He probably doesn’t. Since I’m a ‘child’ who will disappear once my name is called, can’t he comfortably open up?

“I know I won’t be of much comfort.”

Even as I said this, I wasn’t sure if I could be of any help to him.

“Still, listening to your story is something even I can do.”

But it’s better than just leaving him be. If I somehow reach out my hand and shout that I’m here, that hand could become a lifeline for someone.

Sunyu looked surprised at my words. His eyes were filled with complex emotions.

“It’s nothing major.”

But soon, he slowly opened his mouth.

“I also had a sister about your age. Our parents both passed away early, and she was the only blood relative left for me.”

His voice as he spoke about his younger sister was so dark. Sunyu made a face that couldn’t laugh or cry, then sighed and continued.

“That child died last Mithil (November).”

Sunyu looked down at me with pitch-black, lifeless eyes. His expressionless face was scary enough, but he just looked sad.

“After becoming the Emperor, I had entrusted my sister to the servants of the family estate. But I heard that until her last breath, she searched for her heartless brother.”

He briefly pressed his lips together in agony, then muttered as if confessing.

“At that time, I was in the palace.”

“…”

“Until the letter arrived saying that the child had died waiting for her brother who never came, I was here.”

His voice was heavy with self-reproach. He didn’t hate his younger sister. It was just that his sister was a bit lower on his list of priorities.

Since he stayed at the palace instead of the family estate, his first priority must have been the Empress.

“As much as Her Majesty has changed, I have also changed.”

I recalled Sunyu’s words. Just as the Empress, my mother, came to love me, Sunyu had also changed. He no longer loves the Empress.

Only after his younger sister’s death did he finally, barely…

I was curious about how the Empress’s ability had awakened, but I knew well that it wasn’t a situation where I could ask that. I felt sorry for the child who died so lonelily, and I pitied Sunyu who had now woken up from his dream so miserably.

“Since it was my affection that let that child die so lonelily…”

“…”

“How could I continue to have it?”

The last words were whispered so quietly that they were almost inaudible. Soon he raised his head and smiled at me as usual.

“Will you tell me your name now?”

I played along with his pretense of being fine. When I told him my name, Sunyu laughed as if he was hearing it for the first time.

“Mirinae seems to worry about you a lot.”

When I made a puzzled face at the sudden mention of the name, Sunyu continued.

“If you happen to meet him, could you tell him that I don’t see his daughter and my sister the same way?”

Well, I don’t think that’s the case. Then why was he kind to me, and why does he sometimes look at me with sad eyes?

As if doing for me what he couldn’t do for his sister. It seemed he was still searching for the shadow of his sister in me. Mirinae must have known that and been wary.

After pondering for a moment, I asked.

“Is that a bad thing?”

Perhaps it was an unexpected answer, as Sunyu parted his lips slightly. But before long, he nodded.

“It’s bad. You are you, yet erasing you by overlaying something else on you.”

“But you already know that those two are different, don’t you, Your Majesty?”

“…That’s right.”

He gave a bitter smile. I stared at that face for a while, then averted my gaze. Something truly precious cannot be replaced by something else.

Nevertheless, constantly seeking something similar means you are so sad and empty that you want to fill that void with anything.

“But it’s okay.”

“Child.”

Sunyu called out to me as if scolding me. I smiled faintly at that affection.

“It’s not that you’re trying to find a substitute, but that you miss that person so much. Seeing this reminds you of them, seeing that reminds you of them, to the point where you miss them unbearably.”

“…”

“So upon seeing someone similar, you simply couldn’t bear how much you missed them.”

Having finished speaking, I looked up at Sunyu again. He had an indescribable expression.

“I am different from the one you miss, Your Majesty. You know that, right?”

“…I know very well.”

“Does that child resemble me a lot?”

Sunyu’s eyes became tender. He was looking at me, but his gaze was distant.

“…No. She didn’t resemble you.”

His voice trembled. I gazed at him with an aching heart and quietly said.

“Then you simply miss her very much.”

Tears welled up in the eyes of the man who had been like a mountain. As he nodded, tears dripped down. He wept silently.

I kept silent beside him. Sometimes silence is the right choice over consolation or advice.

Just as Sunyu had done, I sat there quietly. For a long time, until he stopped crying.