The Wind Calms the Fire - Chapter 59

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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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Episode 59
Rhea exhaled in relief only once the carriage had completely left the Imperial Palace behind.
‘Thank goodness.’
She’d managed to slip away from the palace at a fortuitous moment.
Rhea recalled the brief conversation she’d had with the Empress this morning, after being summoned early.
Today she’d been offered a cup of tea.
“Veronica Velua has been here. You’ve been taking lessons from her, I hear? That the Fourth Prince has connections to Veronica—how unexpected.”
The Empress had naturally assumed it was the Fourth Prince who’d brought Veronica to serve as Rhea’s tutor.
Rhea said nothing to correct the misunderstanding.
If she claimed that her connection with Veronica Velua was her own ability, it would only invite suspicion.
“For public purposes, I’ve arranged for Veronica to tutor you at my request. See that the story remains consistent.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“I don’t put much stock in rumor. What lies between you and the Fourth Prince is known only to you both. But your claim that he is your betrothed doesn’t ring false—not after seeing him go to such lengths to move Veronica on your behalf.”
He had acted on her behalf even outside the palace walls.
Rhea felt both joy and an inexplicable embarrassment.
“As it happens, I’ve ended up presiding over your engagement. If things proceed this way and the engagement is broken or something unseemly prevents it from taking place, my reputation will suffer greatly.”
“I shall bear that in mind, Your Majesty.”
“Don’t expect too much from the engagement ceremony. I’ll arrange something quite modest. That way, at least I won’t be burdened with orchestrating engagement ceremonies for the other princes as well.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Even a simple ceremony is more than sufficient.”
“Now that I think on it, elaborate ceremonies mean nothing at all.”
For a moment, Rhea sensed a shadow of regret flicker across the Empress’s face as she murmured.
The carriage came to a halt.
Startled, Rhea glanced about, and Penny spoke up.
“We’ve arrived at the Fourth Prince’s residence. What were you thinking about so intently?”
“Oh, nothing at all.”
Rhea brushed it off with a laugh just as the carriage door opened.
The moment she rose and poked her head out, her eyes met Carrion’s.
‘He looks well.’
Rhea understood that the tightness in her chest came from the suffocation and unease of being trapped in the palace.
It was strange that the feeling hadn’t faded even after leaving.
Only when she saw his perfectly sound form with her own eyes did it finally subside.
What emotion was this?
An odd feeling washed over Rhea.
The two stood in silence for a moment, gazing only at each other.
“Ahem.”
Kasim, who had been watching from behind, cleared his throat.
Seeing the two of them, he felt as though he’d become the disruptive third party who had just shattered the fresh, tender atmosphere of new lovers.
Carrion extended his hand, and Rhea took it, stepping down from the carriage.
Penny, who had been watching their retreating forms with a satisfied grin, approached Kasim.
“Kasim. They really do make a wonderful pair, don’t they?”
Kasim rebuked her with a disgruntled expression.
“Your mood changes from morning to evening. You were complaining about them not so long ago.”
“So that’s why you’re the one complaining now?”
“…I’m not.”
“Lighten up. You’ve got grumpiness written all over your face.”
“W-what?”
Penny laughed brightly and hurried into the residence as if in retreat.
The nearby servants, stifling their laughter, quickly looked away when Kasim turned around sharply.
Kasim made a small sound and headed toward the residence.
The rest of the entourage followed with soft smiles.
* * *
Carrion and Rhea entered the parlor side by side.
No one followed them in; only the door closed behind them.
The moment they were alone, Rhea asked urgently.
“Are you all right? You didn’t sleep last night because of the Spirit’s seizure, did you?”
Carrion’s brow twitched.
His hand, which had been reaching toward her, curled into a fist and slowly fell away.
He’d nearly pulled her into his arms.
‘Get a hold of yourself.’
The woman before him is real. Not the one from the dream.
During his confinement at the Private Residence, Carrion began earnest efforts to cultivate his Spirit Ability.
Faced with his own powerlessness, this unknown capacity had become desperately necessary.
He tried following her advice about synchronizing with the Spirit, and despite only a few days, the results were substantial.
But serious side effects accompanied them.
Just as on the first day he’d named the Spirit, he now suffered through nightmares—he shuddered as he named them that—every single night.
It did no good to grow furious with Pomes.
If anything, Pomes protested by leaping about indignantly.
What drove him increasingly mad was neither guilt nor self-loathing, nor the shame of feeling the dampness of soaked undergarments each morning—it was something else entirely.
For days the dreams had shown no progression.
She merely stroked his face and smiled.
She resembled a nude painting he’d glimpsed somewhere long ago.
It was the limit of experience and imagination.
He’d named it a nightmare in frustration, but had it truly been one, it would have tormented his soul with far more varied scenes.
Though she appeared every night, the identical scene each time meant he wasn’t nearly as frenzied as he’d been that first day, losing all reason.
Yet his head still swam white-hot at the sight of this insubstantial dream-phantom.
“If the seizure continues for several more days, it will escalate into a rampage. We should begin treatment immediately.”
Carrion thought he wouldn’t be able to look at her properly if they met again.
But he proved brazenly shameless, meeting her gaze directly.
Convinced the recurring dreams were beyond his control, his guilt had faded.
Instead, he harbored an utterly disreputable thought: that experience would be necessary if the dreams were to change.
“The nature of the seizure has altered.”
“Pardon?”
“I sleep, but it won’t release me.”
“What do you mean—”
“A different form of contact is necessary.”
Carrion took her hand. The mere act of holding it sent a tingling sensation through him.
With one hand, he unfastened the front buttons of his Tunic and drew her hand inside, pressing it against his chest.
Rhea started in surprise but did not pull away.
“This… you need this sort of thing?”
“…Yes.”
Had days of such dreams transformed him into a creature in rut?
At mere contact like this, he felt sudden tension flood his lower abdomen.
Heat rising from below spread through his entire body, raising the hair on his skin.
Fortunately, the Tunic was long enough to conceal his groin, so his state remained hidden.
“You’re… like this?”
“Please touch me.”
“What?”
“Stroke downward with your palm. Gently.”
Rhea was flustered.
Yet his earnest expression seemed no mockery of her.
She also believed him not the sort to play such cheap tricks.
‘I’ve done more than this already…’
Strange though the sensation was, what difficulty lay in touching his bare chest?
She pressed her palm firmly against his chest and moved it downward in a stroking motion.
The neckline of the unfastened Tunic wasn’t wide enough to allow much range of movement.
‘It has contours different from a woman’s chest. Muscle, perhaps? The skin is softer than I expected.’
She quickly became absorbed in the task.
Carrion clenched his teeth and held his breath.
He fought with all his will to suppress his breathing, terrified of panting shamefully.
Without exaggeration, Carrion felt he could finish from this touch alone.
The moment a knock sounded at the door—tap, tap—Rhea started in alarm and hastily withdrew her hand, stepping back.
“It’s Veronica Velua.”
She turned away from him and steadied her breathing.
“Yes. Come in.”
Shortly after, Veronica Velua opened the door and entered.
She alternated her gaze between Carrion and Rhea, standing awkwardly apart, and raised an eyebrow.
Though she couldn’t say what, the atmosphere felt decidedly strained.
It seemed unlikely the two had quarreled in such a brief moment.
“I’m relieved you’ve escaped the Cavern safely, Your Highness. Ah, Fourth Prince. Forgive my crude expression.”
She spoke with a shrug of Carrion’s shoulder.
“Don’t give it a second thought. It’s hardly something I can deny.”
Rhea found his casual nonchalance—the way he behaved as if nothing had happened—exasperating.
‘Is it just me, or has he changed somehow? He seems a bit more… cunning than before?’
She also found it strange how those two, who had kept their distance, now appeared noticeably closer.
She wondered what might have happened in the Private Residence during the days she’d been away.
“Your Highness, if you’re not occupied, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you privately.”
“Yes, I’m free.”
After they left, Carrion let out a long breath and collapsed onto the sofa.
Eyes closed, he savored the memory of her hand brushing against his chest moments before.
Would she come to him in tonight’s dreams? And would she do more than just touch his face?
The thought suddenly struck him as pathetic, and he wrapped his bowed head in both hands.

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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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