A Wavering Heart (2)
"...What?"
I asked again, wondering if I had misheard her. But her expression did not change in the slightest as she simply repeated the words she had spoken to me.
"Tonight, you will stay by my side. That is the command I give you, Swen."
Having said so, Serpina let out a soft chuckle and slowly drained her glass.
So... she wanted me to stay with her through the night?
"Are you asking me to serve as your escort?"
"If that was meant to be a carefully prepared joke, I'm afraid it wasn't particularly amusing."
"No... I wasn't joking..."
I had no intention of joking. Nor did I truly believe she was asking for a bodyguard.
Surely not...
Serpina stared straight at me, then let out a laugh as if she found something entertaining.
"If I were to ask you to attend me in bed, would you be angry?"
"I would not be angry. How could I ever be angry with my lord?"
"Heh heh heh. Swen. Your expression says otherwise — you look thoroughly flustered. It would seem this body of mine holds little charm for you."
"...That isn't the issue."
"I want an answer to my question."
I swallowed a sigh and played along with her for the moment.
"My lord is an exceedingly charming woman. That is true for others, and of course it is true for me as well."
"Then why do you wear such a look of distress?"
It wasn't that I disliked her. But becoming deeply entangled was dangerous. Especially when she was intoxicated — and especially when it meant laying hands on my own lord.
I had no family behind me, no faction to support me. If things went wrong, I could be eliminated. And even if things went well, that presented its own problems. She could never unify the continent. She was destined to eventually fall to Lunarien. One day I would have to leave her — and if I grew any closer to her than this, all manner of complications would follow. That much required no special foresight to understand.
In other words, there was no need to throw myself into a minefield simply because I was captivated by a beautiful woman.
The scent of citron that had lingered on my tongue all day was shaking my heart more fiercely than ever before — but this was still a moment I had to endure.
"...You've had far too much to drink, my lord."
"Are you running away? I am being quite serious."
"I'm not running away. If Your Lordship truly holds such feelings, wouldn't it be better to discuss them when both our minds are clear?"
At my words, Serpina's pupils widened slightly.
Good. While she's a little off balance, let's gently steer this aside.
"For that reason, attending you in bed is out of the question — but spending time together is something I can do. I'm free either way."
"You are a more upright man than I expected. Or perhaps someone else already occupies a place in that heart of yours."
"..."
"I have more I could say, but I won't. I have no wish to earn your resentment. Did I not tell you? I want to make you mine. I will do everything in my power to win your heart."
Having said so, she chuckled once more and drained her glass again — and I followed suit, taking a sip of wine. The bitter fragrance, lightly laced with the scent of grapes, slid pleasantly down my throat.
After that, we exchanged no words, only gazes. I kept my silence, careful not to speak rashly. Right now, it seemed, was not a time for me to talk — but a time to listen to her.
Several minutes passed before Serpina carefully parted her lips.
"Swen. I am... terribly lonely."
Her golden eyes turned toward the empty wine glass. She spoke in a low, almost murmuring tone, as if she were a sinner who had come to the confessional — her voice tinged with sadness.
"I ran without rest, driven by nothing but the sense of duty to rebuild a fallen empire. It didn't matter that no one stood beside me. A sovereign must overcome solitude. Whether I wanted it or not, I was born of Aingart blood — so I told myself these were burdens I was meant to bear, and I climbed my way to where I am now."
I slowly refilled her empty glass. She accepted it without a word and drank. The entire exchange flowed as naturally as water.
"One of the vows I made when I resolved to become the sovereign who would rebuild the empire was this: that I would trust, no matter what, every person who stood by my side. In this age of chaos, are they not people who work for me alone? And yet... already, time and again, person after person has left me. In their final moments, they always cursed me. How laughable it is — that the same mouths which once spoke of our shared future could produce blades aimed at me in so short a time."
"My lord..."
"Yesterday, every last rebel was executed. I cannot forget the hatred in the eyes of those who had sworn loyalty to me again and again as they looked at me. I am... tormented. Because it feels as though all of this happened through no one's fault but my own — because the thought keeps shaking me that I could have prevented it, and failed to do so only through my own foolishness."
Serpina drained her glass once more.
Had she been witnessing the betrayal of her generals over and over? What must it feel like to realize that those who had devoted their loyalty to you were sharpening their blades behind your back to kill you? And for that to keep happening every few months?
An ordinary person would have long since broken under the strain. I doubted I would have stayed sane myself. The thought that the only thing she had been able to lean on until she reached this state was not a person, but alcohol... made my heart tilt toward her, just a little.
"I no longer know how many times this has been. 'I will carry on Sidmid's will.' 'I will inherit Algot's resolve.' Every time I feel my long-dead brothers still circling me like ghosts, year after year... I cannot help but wonder whether I am doing this right — whether this seat I occupy is truly one I have any right to sit in. Can you understand that?"
Serpina's golden eyes looked terribly lonely as she spoke. She had always projected an untouchable charisma — but in this moment, she seemed so fragile. It was almost like Irene back in the days under the Brans Army, when she had been repeating to herself a loyalty that would never return. Back then, Irene had carried a precarious fragility, as if she might shatter at the slightest touch — and the same was true of Serpina now.
"Swen, answer me. How much more blood must I swallow from now on? Simply because I sit in a seat that was merely given to me — how many more of my own people, not even enemies, people who once worked alongside me... how many more must I send away with my own hands?"
"..."
Just in case, I tried inputting the question she had posed. As expected, the only answer that came back was a meaningless one.
[Unknown.]
How wonderful it would have been if I could have given her some convincing words of comfort here.
"Yes. I know. I... must not grow weak over something like this. I know full well that I sit in a seat where such things are not permitted. I... inherited the will of Aingart. I carry the mission of unifying this continent..."
Having said so, Serpina hung a deeply bitter smile on her lips.
What should I say to her?
I organized a model answer in my head.
My lord, you must steel your heart. If you waver, they will only grow more emboldened, and the discipline of the nation will collapse... That should do it.
Yes. I had found something that could pass as a model answer. All I had to do was say it as it was. And yet—
"...My lord."
"Speak."
"I will not tell you to steel your heart. Even without me, you will have heard that enough from others — and you know it better than anyone yourself."
Looking into those lonely eyes of hers, I simply could not bring myself to deliver a calculated answer.
"These are chaotic times. Even so, no one ever truly grows accustomed to killing. To keep finding the strength to go on in a situation like this, there must be moments when you allow yourself a pause. So..."
"For today, at least... allowing yourself to be weak might be one way."
"..."
I looked around, took an empty glass from the cupboard, and filled it with wine.
"You said you must not grow weak over something like this — but this is the matter of killing dozens of people, people who were once your allies. Of learning that those you trusted had turned their blades on you. I know that weight is never light. Whether one is the sovereign of a nation or an ordinary person, few take the lives of others lightly."
"Swen..."
Was it simple pity? Or an act calculated to win her favor? Or... what exactly was this emotion I was feeling right now?
One thing was certain: I wanted to be her strength. Leaving everything else aside, that fact alone shone with perfect clarity.
Serpina stared at me for a long while with her flushed, wine-warmed face — then slowly parted her lips.
"Swen. Can you not stay with me?"
"As I have said, I serve you as a member of the Serpina Army. Is that not enough?"
"...Will you not leave my side?"
"Of course I—"
How wonderful it would have been if I could have finished that sentence with won't. But the word showed no sign of leaving my throat. I... simply could not bring myself to lie to the crumbling Serpina before me.
"Swen. I don't know how you will take this, but... my life has been an unbroken succession of days in which I could trust no one. Generals I trusted called me a witch and were desperate to kill me. Strategists who always gave me reliable counsel were plotting my assassination behind my back. They always begged me to trust them, and I did. I granted everything they asked of me as well... but the result was always the same. Every one of them left me."
"But you were different. You never forced me to trust you. You simply showed me through results. Without asking for any reward, you quietly, naturally — so naturally that your contributions barely showed — rooted out the seeds of rebellion not once but twice, and before I knew it, you had even saved my life."
Of course I couldn't force her to trust me. The reason was simple: even I didn't know the basis for that trust. It was nothing more than that — and yet it seemed to have struck Serpina as something deeply special.
"I merely did what needed to be done."
"Yes. I thought you would say that. If you had asked me for something, I might have been able to hold onto you... but..."
She smiled bitterly, then shook her head.
"No. I still have time."
"Time, my lord?"
"Time to persuade you, Swen."
Having said so, she smiled again. Strangely, it struck me as the pure, innocent smile of a child.
"It's embarrassing to say this myself, but I am a rather fine woman, you know. If I can only win your heart somehow, then even if you tell me to leave, you won't — isn't that right? Heh heh heh."
Serpina raised her glass toward me. I understood without difficulty that she meant for us to lightly clink our glasses together. The clear, bright sound of glass against glass filled the quiet room.
"I said earlier, didn't I? That spending today together would be fine. I would like you to keep that word, Swen."
"Understood."
And so I spent the night with her.
Honestly, if I had wanted to refuse, I could have — and she had no desire to provoke me, so she likely would have let me go without protest. But right now, I simply wanted to stay by the side of a woman who was wavering this badly. The reason was—
She said she merely sat in a seat that had been given to her...
That sentence she had let slip so casually. Perhaps, in the path that brought her to that seat, there were circumstances I didn't know — no, circumstances no one knew.
In any case. The decision to stay by her side was entirely my own. And I could not deny that the heart which had once held only Lady Luna... had wavered, just a little.