Will You Cry for Me If I Die? - Chapter 71

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 71

After moving as quietly as possible and arriving at Winter Castle, we all gathered together in the hall.

Footsteps continued until the door closed.

The hall floor was wide and flat.

Air stretched long between the columns.

When the hall door closed, the sound of guards outside grew distant.

The sound of the door closing remained inside.

Millayen stood in position first.

He stood in the center and looked at everyone.

When he raised his hand, everyone stopped.

Movement was cut off all at once.

Stopping is a beginning.

I learned that.

After stopping, words come.

Demian spoke in a low voice.

His gaze didn’t drift to the side.

“What happened at the Founding Festival has already spread.”

Spread.

Goes outside.

If it spreads, you get caught.

Traces multiply.

I fidgeted with my fingers.

My fingertips brushed the floor.

Fidgeting is four years old.

It’s a small movement.

Four years old draws less suspicion.

Gazes don’t linger as long.

I use that.

I keep my body small.

Iden added.

He stepped forward.

“The Royal House deliberately drove it into the open.”

Open.

A place where everyone can see.

A place that isn’t hidden.

Open is like the Research Institute’s glass windows.

A place where inside and outside aren’t divided.

A place where everyone can see.

I hate those glass windows.

I couldn’t hide.

I like hiding.

I like being covered.

Millayen looked down at me.

His gaze came down from above to below.

His gaze wasn’t cold.

It felt like being pressed down deeply.

That was heavier.

If it’s not cold, you can’t avoid it.

Heavy things are carried.

They’re placed on top of me.

I’m four years old so I can’t hold heavy things for long.

My arms come down quickly.

But I endure it.

I don’t drop it.

“Rumel.”

My name was called.

The sound was clear.

I answered right away.

I didn’t hesitate.

“I’m okay.”

Saying I’m okay is a habit.

My mouth remembers first.

I said it at the Research Institute too.

I said it before being asked.

I say it here too.

I brought it out the same way.

If you speak, they ask less.

Questions decrease.

If they don’t ask, it hurts less.

The inside opens less.

Theodor couldn’t hold back and asked.

His gaze flew over while his steps stopped.

“Why did you step forward.”

The words came out quickly.

I was waiting for that question.

I already knew it was coming.

Expected questions are less scary.

You can prepare an answer.

I opened my mouth.

I took a short breath and spoke.

“Friends shouldn’t get caught.”

After looking at me quietly, Lermiel stepped forward.

His toes lightly brushed the thin pattern lines on the hall floor as he moved forward in a sliding motion.

The air spread under the high ceiling trembled very faintly.

Holy power still remained on the back of his hand.

The light hadn’t completely disappeared, remaining thinly over his skin like a covering.

Faint light flowed along the blood vessels on the back of his hand, spreading small wherever his pulse beat.

I kept my gaze on the floor to avoid looking at that light.

The floor stones were old, with finely cracked lines spread like spider webs.

I moved my eyes along those lines, keeping my gaze fixed.

Light is dangerous.

Light draws the eye.

When eyes are drawn, gazes linger.

When gazes linger, traces remain.

Light calls priests.

What’s visible always follows.

Lermiel spoke.

It was a voice that took a breath and chose words carefully.

“It’s my fault.”

Fault.

That word was often heard at the Research Institute.

It was a word that bundled someone’s fault into a single point and fixed it there.

All gazes pierce into that point.

I jerked my head up.

My neck moved as if suddenly pulled upward.

“No.”

I said it in one word.

Cut it short.

I blocked it from continuing further.

If I speak long, tears come out.

The longer the sentence, the more my insides shake.

I don’t cry.

I shut my mouth even tighter.

Millayen looked back and forth between the two people.

His gaze moved slowly.

From one person to another, shifting as if judging.

And he spoke low.

His voice spread along the floor of the wide space.

“The Royal House saw your blood today.”

Blood.

That word stopped inside my throat.

It caught there, unable to swallow.

On the platform of the Founding Festival, when I collapsed, the Priest’s eyes flashed.

Those eyes that had been looking down from the high platform suddenly narrowed and pierced me.

The pupils that had been reflecting light instantly sharpened and narrowed.

I remember those eyes.

I don’t forget the moment those eyes confirmed me.

I gritted my teeth.

Strength entered my jaw and the muscles hardened firmly.

Demian spoke.

His words weren’t long.

“The holy mark reacted.”

The holy mark doesn’t lie.

When it reacts, it reveals everything as is.

It doesn’t hide.

Not lying is more frightening.

Because it can’t be broken.

If it were a lie, it could be broken.

It could be pushed away as wrong.

If it’s real, it must be calculated.

It must be avoided.

Iden added.

He took a step as if tidying his position and spoke.

“The Royal House will officially make it an issue.”

Official.

A place where you can’t hide.

A place where names are attached.

Issue.

I was an issue.

I was an issue at the Research Institute too.

Issues were things that needed to be fixed.

They broke while trying to fix them.

I want to believe it won’t be like that here.

I tried not to put them together.

Theodor stepped forward.

His footsteps made almost no sound.

“We’ll protect you.”

The words came out quickly.

They didn’t stop.

Hearing those words, my insides became a little warm.

My insides loosened gently.

When it’s warm, tears come.

Eyes get wet quickly.

I clenched my hands tight.

My fingers dug deep into my palms.

Millayen slowly nodded his head.

The movement wasn’t large, but it continued clearly to the end.

“Protect.”

It was one word.

Short words are heavy.

They press down the air.

Heavy words don’t shake.

They don’t move.

I felt that weight.

It settled firmly inside my chest.

A moment of silence flowed.

No one spoke.

Even the air flowing between the columns seemed to stop.

The silence was a signal that the Founding Festival had ended.

All sounds were pushed back.

Now comes what’s next.

I asked carefully.

I pressed my voice down low.

“What else will the Royal House do.”

Asking is being four years old.

Asking what you don’t know as is.

Pretending not to know is being an assassin.

Hiding.

I didn’t hide.

Millayen’s lips moved very slightly.

It was a brief time of choosing words.

“Official investigation and summons.”

Investigation.

Finding out.

Dragging out what’s hidden.

Summons.

They call again.

They call names.

And Millayen, I hate being called.

When called, you get bound.

I wouldn’t be able to move.

Being tied up meant I would be experimented on.

My body would be fixed in place.

I frowned.

My eyebrows drew together slightly.

Demian spoke in a low voice.

“We will not comply.”

Will not comply.

Will not go.

Those words sounded as cold as winter.

The air in the hall felt like it had grown even colder in that moment.

Cold people can be trusted.

Because they don’t waver.

I secretly relaxed my expression.

My lips came down just a little.

And I shouted.

Taking a big breath, I pushed out my voice.

“I won’t be caught.”

The words jumped up high and spread toward the ceiling.

They stretched long through the empty space.

Millayen held me and watched quietly. With very faint eyes filled with determination.

* * *

After returning home, Millayen arranged a separate meeting.

Even after the door closed, the air inside the hall didn’t completely settle, floating thinly like tension that remained somewhere.

Shadows stretched long between the columns, layered upon the floor, and the arrangement that left the center empty and made people gather around naturally organized everyone’s positions.

When he sat in the central chair, everyone’s posture became orderly.

Foot positions were subtly aligned, shoulders settled down, and gazes didn’t scatter but gathered toward one center.

Order is the beginning.

Nothing sticks in a scattered state, but when organized, words stick, and when words stick, what comes next follows.

I aligned my toes neatly.

I adjusted the angle of my feet touching the floor slightly inward.

Four-year-olds get praised for standing properly.

A child who doesn’t move is comfortable.

Requires less attention.

Praise is a shield.

I like shields.

Draws less attention.

Demian was the first to speak.

His breath didn’t stretch long before bringing out his words.

“What the Royal House targeted at the Founding Festival is clear.”

When things are clear, you can see which direction to escape.

You can know where to slip away to.

Iden continued speaking.

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