Aya Ran Away - Chapter 31

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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 31
Aya bit her lip.
The small hope that it might truly be dead shattered into pieces.
The “King”—that thing—had fled.
‘Where?’
She couldn’t even guess.
Perhaps it had slipped into another body, or maybe it had escaped in its true form, hidden from human sight.
Either way, it meant Nahal was still in danger.
It wanted to kill him.
Now that Nahal had taken its place, that desire would only deepen.
‘Still…’
At least she could be grateful that thanks to Nahal’s ability, it would not be at his side.
Aya exhaled a small sigh.
* * *
The days that followed resembled those before, with only minor changes.
One such change was that Nahal no longer refused when offered tea in recent days.
Finding the taste quite pleasant, he began visiting her room often to drink it with her.
He would remain at the table the entire time—as the water heated, the leaves steeped, and the cup was drained to the last drop.
Those hours, neither long nor short, Aya seized as a precious opportunity to study him carefully.
She worried that the thing might have clung to him, or left some curse she couldn’t perceive.
Nahal sat across from her with only a table between them, sipping his tea.
‘He seems fine today as well…’
But somewhere along the way, her gaze began to drift.
Her eyes no longer searched for traces of curses or its remnants, instead tracing slowly across the back of his hand, his wrist, and the fingers wrapped around the cup.
She even found joy in looking at hands so densely scarred.
When held in his grip, the cup looked absurdly small.
At first, she had genuinely been checking on his wellbeing, but somewhere along the way, Aya had begun indulging her true desires under the pretext of watching over him.
‘But he does have that ability.’
Aya, pricked by conscience, used Nahal’s power as an excuse.
The Royal Palace still harbored Evil Spirits, and she worked diligently to purge them.
She noticed that whenever those spirits that hovered near him made contact, they burned away on the spot.
‘Now that I think about it, he doesn’t seem aware of the ability at all.’
The closer she drew to him, the more curious she became about how he came to possess such power.
‘Is there a source to this strength?’
Lost in such thoughts, Aya pretended to reach for his empty cup and lightly brushed the back of his hand.
Then she feigned surprise at the contact, acting startled.
Nahal didn’t seem particularly bothered; instead, he reassured her it was fine.
‘I’m sorry.’
That was what Aya said to herself.
But the apology wasn’t for touching his hand.
Aya was borrowing his ability.
Though she couldn’t explain the principle, at some point she had discovered that when she touched Nahal, she could mimic a power similar to his.
It wasn’t merely driving away Evil Spirits—she could actually harm them now.
Moreover, unlike before, she suffered far less afterward from expelling the spirits.
The only difference was that while he used his power unconsciously, she had to squeeze it out with deliberate intention.
Right after touching him, she even felt as though her strength was surging back.
It was peculiar.
“Then I shall see you next time.”
Nahal rose from his seat as he spoke.
After learning through whispers of the enormous burden that had fallen upon him, Aya chose to let him go rather than hold him back.
Though she felt a pang of regret, she knew he would return.
She resisted the urge to follow him to the door, then settled back into her seat after he left.
His empty cup was visible.
Then she recalled that he had said the tea tasted good.
‘Did it really suit his palate so well?’
Suddenly curious, Aya lifted her own cup—which held the same blend—and tasted it.
She sipped carefully, and the fragrance lingered in her mouth.
But she could not properly perceive the flavor.
Aya’s face scrunched as she tasted the tea several times in concentration.
‘Is it because I lack a tongue that the taste feels different?’
Aya swirled the teacup absently as she mulled it over.
‘Not particularly good tea.’
Unlike what he always said—that the tea was delicious, draining the cup before he left—it tasted rather ordinary.
Yet it was hard to imagine him visiting this place almost daily during such a hectic time if it weren’t for the tea.
‘Or perhaps he’s making an excuse to rest because work is wearing him down.’
That could very well be it.
Aya recalled the traces of fatigue etched across his face and nodded quietly to herself.
‘Yes. I’ll do what I can.’
She would search for traces of ‘it,’ however she could.
For Nahal’s sake, Aya resolved to do her very best.
That was when it happened.
She heard a sound nearby.
“Your Highness.”
Thinking it was an attendant come to clear the empty cup, Aya turned to find Yesili standing there.
“I hope you have been well?”
The voice carried a familiarity as if they had met yesterday, and Aya offered a faint smile and nodded.
‘It’s been a while.’
She murmured this inwardly and gave a light wave of her hand.
Yesili smiled.
* * *
The Coronation Ceremony was now merely ten days away.
Nahal, who wore upon his head still only a makeshift crown, labored ceaselessly.
He had to untangle the affairs left behind by the former king and his predecessors, and restore them to order.
Some days, a crushing despair would wash over him—the sense that even a lifetime of effort could not resolve all these matters.
Nahal and all his attendants racked their brains daily over the task of reconstructing everything broken and establishing systems adequate to meet the demands ahead.
Not a single matter was simple.
Before Agan claimed the throne, records of Revar’s legal systems were needed.
But he had heard that, unfortunately, a fire broke out in the Royal Palace after the reorganization, destroying them all.
Not only records of the systems but also most of the chronicles of successive kings no longer remained in the Royal Palace.
Requests for help from the noble families yielded no meaningful materials.
In that moment of difficulty, Lebanan raised the name of the Temple.
His family, unusually, had maintained deep ties with the Temple all along.
Even if the Royal Palace records had burned, the Temple might yet preserve something—perhaps inscriptions of Temple Script carved upon tablets.
And besides, was it not said that their knowledge was transmitted not through writing but through speech?
Nahal sent a messenger to the Temple at once.
A reply came swiftly.
The Temple would send priests.
It was a historic moment—priests receiving an invitation from the king for nearly a hundred years.
While priests had made clandestine visits to the Royal Palace during that span, such affairs had been nothing more than unofficial undertakings.
……
High priests, their foreheads inscribed with the divine script, drew their robes deep around themselves as they surveyed the Royal Palace.
Their bearing seemed touched by a kind of reverent emotion.
The palace attendants kindly guided the guests who found the Royal Palace unfamiliar and brought them to the king.
Unlike his predecessors, Nahal could not receive them with stern formality in the audience chamber, so he summoned them to his work chamber instead.
Sitting amid piles of scrolls and parchment stacked as high as the grand staircase of the audience chamber, Nahal seemed to possess a different manner of dignity.
“We behold the true king of Revar whom God has chosen.”
The priests knelt and bowed their heads.
‘God chose me, they say.’
Nahal felt the weight of the ring about his neck and smiled wryly.
He disliked the former king and his family, but the priests of the Temple would surely be wary of him too—a man from the Northern Region.
To everyone, Nahal was merely the lesser evil.
Before his face they poured out honeyed words—that he was the chosen king, that he was God’s Messenger whom even evil spirits would flee—yet someday they might seize his leash using those very words.
Concealing such suspicions, Nahal gave them a cordial welcome and invited them to be seated.
Then he turned at once to the matter at hand.
“You will have heard already, but I need information about Revar before the Agan Family. If you possess any knowledge, I ask for your cooperation.”
At Nahal’s words, the oldest priest among the group opened his mouth slowly.
“We stand ready to undertake any service whatsoever if it might assist Your Majesty. However.”
Nahal’s cold gaze fell upon the elderly priest.

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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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