Beloved Tyrant

Tristan immediately bended his knee. Lowering his back, he touched the floor with both hands and fell down on his four feet. And crawled as if he had forgotten shame and humiliation. Aurest grumbled and laughed.

“Erin. You don’t have to raise a dog. There’s already one big guy.”

A couple more sips of wine made my face hot.

I laughed too.

It was always easy to laugh.

Tristan crawled next to Aurest’s sofa and stopped.

Aurest rolled his feet in the light. When the broken glass was stepped on the shoe, it splashed and smashed. Small pieces of broken glass sparkled thinly.

“I need a footrest. More come.”

Tristan, lying down, raised his head and looked up at me.

His black eyes did not blame me, nor did he hate me or resent me. He was just staring at me with his pure, deep eyes, as if asking permission.1

I couldn’t bear it.

The glass was refilled to avoid Tristan’s gaze.

“What are you doing? Listen to my brother.”

Tristan dropped his head and took a step forward. I almost screamed. Tristan’s shoulders were flapping. Under the shertz, the affected muscles were pulled and inflated with pain.

“Tristan has always been extraordinary since he was a child. He didn’t scream once, even if he got hit in the back with a nine-pronged whip.” Aurest said with great equanimously, I said it over a glass of wine.

“… He looks like an ascetic.” (Erin)

Tristan clenched his teeth and went on. His waist flinched with pain. A pent-up new note came out of his tightly shut mouth and stopped. I wanted to close my eyes if I could. I just wanted to yell, ‘Get up right now’. But I couldn’t because Aurest’s gaze was fixed on me, not on Tristan. Tristan stopped at the foot of Aurest. Aurest stretched his legs up on Tristan’s back lying down.

“Erin. What did I tell you? I said it would be fun, right?”

I shifted the gaze I had fixed on Tristan. The Crown Prince was laughing and giggling.

“I know. It’s really…”

I laughed too. As always, it was always easy to laugh.

“…really fun.”

***

Aurest, who said he had to go soon, stayed for another hour. Until now, Tristan had carried out a noble mission of receiving the crown prince’s feet. Before I knew it, the wine had bottomed out. I could see a couple of drops fell down even when I tilted it vertically. The Crown Prince has an appetite.

“You’ve delayed too much time. I’ll go.”

“Oh! I’ll see you off.”

The yellowish late afternoon sun was pouring through the window into the hallway.

Aurest, who had been walking earlier, stopped. He turned and pulled my arm and kissed me on the cheek. He muttered and smelled of wine.

“I certainly don’t want to go.”

I stepped back a little.

“But you still have to go. Because you’re busy,..”

Aurest came as close as he leaned down and fidgeted with my hair. As he rubbed his nose in my hair, he blurted out.2

“Should I just not be the Crown Prince?”

‘You killed your brother Hector for the Crown Prince’s seat,… You’re good at joking.’

I just laughed.

After passing through the main gate of the palace, Aurest climbed onto the horse with a light movement. I curse in my mind against his back as he was leaving.

‘After drinking, he’s horseback riding? He’s so mad.’

However, Aurest’s equestrian skills were excellent. The Crown Prince, who appeared so stormy, went away like a storm. I went back into the palace and took the first sight of the maid and commanded anyone.

“Call a doctor and a healing priest! Now!” The maid answered in a sad voice.

“I just called it.”

Climbing the stairs and crossing the corridor gradually accelerated. The pace across the hall got faster and faster. When I arrived at the door of the study, I was out of breath. It was a waste of time to catch my breath. I opened the door and looked back at the wreckage of the storm.

Tristan was still lying on his stomach.

“Get up.”

Tristan’s shoulder, hardened like a stone statue, wriggled.

“Get up.”

The man who was a knight stood up slowly.

His face was covered in cold sweat. Blood was seen near the knees of the trousers.

I approached Tristan and snatched him by the wrist. Pieces of glass were embedded in the hard, rough palms. A groan came out. I said, pointing to the sofa where I sat.

“Sit here.”

“It is rude for a servant to sit in his master’s seat. Why, much less, the owner of this imperial family can be punished by imperial law by applying contempt charges against the imperial family?”

I pushed him to the sofa, but Tristan didn’t budge.

Rather, I was pushed back.

“If I tell you to sit down, sit down! It’s an order!” Tristan, who looked down at me with a puzzled look, sat on the sofa only then.

On the table were still the treatment tools that were brought back when Aurest’s hand was cut. Sterilized alcohol was poured into Tristan’s hand. Then I took a piece of glass with a tweezer and threw it into the container. Tristan only frowned a little, but never groaned. He glanced up at me and said again, lowering his eyes.

“……Are you angry?”

All the big pieces were taken out, but small pieces and powders were the problem. It seemed like it would take a cut to dig deeper than the big ones. It would be quite painful. Aurest must have trampled on the glass with his feet for it.

“I’m sorry to have made a dent in Your Imperial Highness.”

“Are you a sadist?”2

The words popped out of the air.

“If he had gone back, I should have known better. ‘Let’s enjoy some fun and entertaining play.’ He’ve been doing that! Don’t you feel any pain?¹”

“I haven’t been ordered to get up.”1

“Do I have to order such a trivial thing for you to know one by one? Act as you can.”

“I thought the Princess would be happy.”

“What nonsense is that?”

Tristan opened his mouth to say what he wanted to say, and then shut up. Somehow he looked sad. I asked in a muted voice.

“You got something to say?”

“None.”

“What do you mean no? I won’t be angry, so tell me.” Tristan was silent. I didn’t ask any more because I had no obligation to comfort myself².

I went out and got up from my seat to help the maid. Tristan reached out urgently, as if grabbing my hem, and stopped.

There was a tedious process of extracting the pieces of glass again. I tried my best, but it seemed too much to pull out small pieces. Tossing the tweezers into the glass, he chewed his lips.

Why is the doctor so late?

I went out and got up from my seat to train the maid. Tristan reached out urgently, as if grabbing my hem, and stopped. I also stopped in my position.

“Why?”

Tristan withdrew his hand and placed it on his thigh.

As an impatient person, I tweaked the rock as he pants with his fingertips.

“Y-you said it was fun. So…”

His words ended vaguely. It wasn’t until a little later that I realized that was the answer to the question just now. The understanding came like a lightning.

‘I know, it’s really fun.’

‘I thought the Princess would be happy.’

‘You said it was fun. So…’

So you were impersonating a footrest on a piece of broken glass? Because you think I’m gonna enjoy it?

“It was no fun.” The voice cracked out.

Tristan didn’t even told me, ‘You’re just saying something different.’ He just answered me mildly.

“Yes.”

“I hate it when you get hurt.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Your Imperial Highness does not have to apologize.”

“I’m sorry for everything.”

“Don’t forgive my rudeness.” Tristan rose from his seat and walked in front of me. Carefully he pulled out his sleeve and covered his hand completely, and slowly wiped my cheek with the back of his hand.

I was startled and stepped back a couple of steps. Recognizing my intention to refuse, he corrected his ballistic pose and stepped back.

Then a maid poked her head through the door of the study. It was a maid who had been cleaning up. She screamed when she saw Tristan’s wounds and blood marks on the floor. I raised my head and blinked several times.

I said coldly to the maid…

“Why hasn’t the doctor come yet!”

“I’m, I’m sorry. I’ll go find out.”

The maid galloped along. A terrifying envoy came in to move Tristan to his room. I watched the doctor’s treatment and also went out. I couldn’t stand the sight of it when it was said that they had to take off his pants to heal his knees. I went back to my study. The study had been cleaned up as if nothing had ever happened. There were no fragments of glass, no stains of wine, no blood tracks.

I wandered endlessly between the bookcase and the chair, trying to smell the blood that didn’t smell. Tristan’s hands and knees, torn to shreds, crept before his eyes. If something goes wrong and your skin rotates, you may have to cut off your hands.

Tristan, accustomed to injuries, can’t be unaware of it.

Tristan was a knight. And before becoming a knight, he was a prosecutor who lived with the sword.1

A prosecutor who has lost his hand is no different from a painter who cannot see the color and a bard who has lost his tongue. In the life of the prosecutor, the death penalty was imposed.

Did Tristan want to win my favor even when he was prepared for the worst?

What kind of hatred does it have to be?

No, in fact, I know such a central point.

I know well about people like him, who has no choice but to pretend to be casual, to pretend to be joyful, and to pretend to be happy while cutting off a part of me. We know all too well about the hatred disguised as the most devoted love.

I also know how the people ruins people.

This shouldn’t happen again. You should run to him right now and tell him everything. You shouldn’t have to be as servile as I am. You have to tell me, you don’t have to try to look good, you don’t have to hurt yourself and undermine your dignity.

I’m on your side, so I have to say I don’t have to be important.

I stopped wandering.

You’re too optimistic, aren’t you?

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Are you certain that Tristan, who has come to know everything, won’t count on you?’

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[1] If he had gone back, I should have known better. ‘Let’s enjoy some fun and entertaining play.’ He’ve been doing that! Don’t you feel any pain?: This is really confusing at first… It means if Aurest come back, he’ll say they’ll watch something fun again which is torturing someone, that’s why when Tristan didn’t even cried because of the pain, Erin was enraged (as because he is acting like a stone) and that’s why she’s asking him if he can’t feel pain…1

[2] I had no obligation to comfort myself: It means she had no rights to ask something just because she was uncomfortable.