Aya Ran Away - Chapter 16

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 16
The princess who had handed him the ring that day showed not a trace of hidden intent in her eyes.
The innocence held in her large gaze sparkled like starlight.
Nahal had always been weak to such things.
To things small, fragile, and guileless.
Nahal closed his eyes briefly, then opened them, remembering the slight girl with thin limbs trembling weakly in his arms.
No matter how he turned the matter over in his mind, he could not reach the conclusion that the princess had sent him this to cause him harm.
‘Still, I ought to speak with her about it.’
Perhaps it was magic.
Though love of the divine had waned, Revar was a land of the divine, and sorcerers were rare there, and corrupt magic and base sorcery of all kinds were not permitted.
Yet who could say for certain.
Perhaps the princess, bearer of all manner of sinister rumors, was in truth something altogether extraordinary.
* * *
The reward for reclaiming the vital harbor was modest.
The banquet held to commemorate his return, combined with a commendation ceremony, was so meager in scale as to be worse than no celebration at all.
The voices of those who had declared with certainty before Nahal entered the Capital that “he shall surely become Grand General this time” had grown faint, then shriveled to silence.
‘Not even a pretense of ceremony to show.’
That was what Nahal thought.
In truth, the King whom he faced was scarcely restraining a murderous intent that churned within him.
There was blood spilled in his audience with the King.
This time, the King was not satisfied with merely one person being dragged away.
In that hell reeking of iron, the King laughed.
Was this kind of cruelty too nothing more than simple madness.
Could the King’s actions truly be explained by so light a word.
Nahal suppressed his rising disgust and reflected.
He recalled once hearing that royal blood flowed in a different color than common blood.
Setting aside whether that rumor held truth, one thing was certain: the King was not like other men.
After his audience with the King ended, Nahal moved to depart for another location.
He followed the palace attendants along the winding corridors of the Royal Palace, which twisted like a labyrinth.
Even the palace attendants sometimes faltered, as though they had not perfectly committed it all to memory.
It seemed unlikely that anyone but those born and raised here could memorize every path.
Beyond the sheer scale, the way the gardens visible through the colonnades were landscaped in near-identical patterns bordered on madness.
‘To prevent assassins, they had said.’
He seemed to recall hearing that even the King’s bedchamber changed locations each day.
As he passed near a palace courtyard where a pond lay, Nahal suddenly recalled whom he had seen in that place.
Though he had never paid proper attention to the otherwise similar palace gardens, he thought that place he would recognize anywhere.
It was where he had first met the princess.
He had encountered her again in the thickets near that spot.
Thinking such thoughts, he turned down the corridor.
The ring, which he carried every day to return should they meet, swayed gently with his movements.
‘Come to think of it, does the princess not also suffer from madness?’
Nahal reflected on the rumors that circulated about the princess.
Among them was the rumor that she was so hideously ugly it was painful to look upon.
Nahal recalled her face, wet and gleaming in the fading light.
Between the fluttering long lashes, her silver eyes had shone with beauty.
The gentle curves of her face and the finely wrought features were far from ugly, even judged with malicious intent.
‘Rumors are not to be trusted, it seems.’
Someone clearly despised the princess.
There was no other explanation for it.
* * *
After finishing his business at the Royal Palace, Nahal proceeded directly to the Temple.
He arrived earlier than usual, so the Temple had not properly prepared quarters, yet he remained there.
He had hurried to request a meeting with Yesilli, whom he had met before, and this had stirred up the talkative folk.
Though Nahal received enormous attention, he lived in remarkably austere fashion.
Everyone was curious about his extraordinary exploits, yet Nahal himself had scarcely ever properly attended even the common noble gatherings.
On the rare occasions when he attended a banquet, he would show his face and disappear.
Every action of his became the subject of gossip, and even trifles were invested with meaning.
Though Nahal took the utmost care in his conduct, those who saw him heading toward the Temple began to construct their own interpretations.
Some gave voice to their fantasies.
‘The Prophecy begins anew.’
Baseless rumors that should have vanished instead began to spread from mouth to mouth.
For those seeking belief, the words fell sweet upon their ears.
‘Nahal is the very king the Prophecy foretells.’
The truth of the matter hardly seemed to matter at all.
People believed what they wished to believe.
Those who heard the rumors now clapped their hands, as if the final piece had fallen into place.
They whispered that his appearance and conduct had always set him apart from ordinary folk.
It also provided a clear explanation for why Nahal had worn such a path through the Temple’s threshold.
And the Temple said nothing about the rumor.
It was a small revenge for the years of persecution it had endured at the hands of the mad royal house.
As the Temple fell silent, this preposterous rumor grew wings.
Gossips with tongues lighter than feathers scattered the tale across the entire realm.
Not only through Revar, but beyond its borders to foreign lands.
Fresh prophecies about the king spread anew, and it took little time for the rumor that Nahal was the one chosen by the gods to be king to reach every corner.
Even the most powerful authority in the realm could not seal the people’s mouths.
Rumors moved faster than feet, and they always found escape routes even before the king’s weighty commands.
But why had the rumors spread so quickly?
It was because the people longed for a new king.
Among the nobility too, hearts wavered and stirred at such empty tales.
The common folk, if not the elite, had lost interest in meaningless territorial disputes and war.
Demon beasts alone were burden enough.
There were tales from remote regions that young men conscripted there had been wiped out when demon beasts descended en masse.
It was the moment when the long-accumulated grievance toward the royal house finally surfaced.
* * *
‘The next king of Revar has been determined through Prophecy.’
Aya recalled the rumor she had heard some time ago.
The god of Revar had foretold through a Seer which new king would rule, and that king was said to be Nahal.
‘The king won’t allow this.’
Her anxiety only deepened.
Regardless of whether the rumors held truth, the fact that word had reached the royal house itself made clear this was no ordinary matter.
In such cases, even the innocent could lose their heads as a warning to others.
Now that Nahal had seized such glory, paradoxically his life flickered like a candle before the wind.
Hearing that he had gone to the Temple, Aya wanted to summon Yesilli and ask what they had discussed.
She needed to confirm whether this benefactor Nahal spoke of was truly Yesilli.
But ever since Nahal had come to the Capital and rumors of his abilities began to spread, Yesilli could no longer enter the Royal Palace.
The reason was that the palace was no longer safe.
Now that both Nahal and the Temple had become thorns in the king’s side, the Governess expressed concern that Yesilli might come to harm passing through the palace.
Aya understood the Governess’s worry for Yesilli’s safety.
So Aya gathered rumors with great diligence.
She verified Nahal’s safety outside the palace walls and observed the king’s every move.
If the king meant to do harm to Nahal, perhaps Aya could be the first to know and help him escape it.
When a palace attendant provided satisfactory information, she even made a point of quietly removing a curse from them as a token of her gratitude.
Thus Aya became an expert at eavesdropping, and rumors of Nahal grew ever louder—the king silent as the calm before a storm, everything feeling like an omen before calamity breaks—when word came on that fateful day.
“The king of Argalit is dead!”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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