Chapter 29
Selene’s mind was full of the question Chyntia had asked her earlier about her hometown and the answer she had given, the flowery and humid southwestern region.
She couldn’t continue thinking. Nothing else came to mind, and if she thought hard enough, something would come to mind, and it would be even scarier.
It’s definitely not her own memory, so maybe this body’s past was stored in the brain.
Why don’t they say that there were such cases? It’s either a ghost story or a very small number of real cases, but it’s said that in cases where body parts are transplanted, they are sometimes influenced by their previous owner.
Considering she had taken over an entire body, it was possible she was influenced somehow.
The idea of body memory was frightening, but her biggest concern was whether the soul of the “real Selene” might still reside within her.
Her thoughts spiraled until they reached Robin, Robin was once Selene’s lover.
‘How could I have forgotten him so completely?!’
The shock had been significant for her too. She had spent nearly three days locked in her room, crying.
Maybe she hadn’t had the time to think about his situation?
It was as if someone had erased him from her mind with an eraser.
Barath, walking beside her, felt her dress brush against his leg, making his hands itch with desire.
He repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists as he glanced at Selene.
He wanted to place his hand on her round shoulder.
He wanted to pull her slender, white arm close to him.
Desire, so swiftly swirling within him, made no sense.
Selene sighed occasionally, lost in thought, and he felt a pang of regret for the sweet scent of sugar she exhaled, carried away by the wind.
If he could, he would gather all those breaths, inhale them, and store them within his body.
Lost in such thoughts, he found his hand hovering near her shoulder.
Could he place his hand on her soft skin?
He hesitated, then decided to comfort her for being upset about the height comment by gently patting her shoulder.
Just as his hand was about to touch her skin, Selene looked up, meeting his eyes.
Barath froze, caught in the act, blinking.
Selene had been about to ask him about Robin, but seeing his awkward expression, she held back a laugh.
“What were you doing?”
Her question, thinking of a mischievous puppy caught in the act, was light-hearted.
Meeting his eyes, she decided not to ask about Robin. It wasn’t a question for her husband, who believed Robin was her former lover.
Barath glanced at his hand, still hovering near her shoulder.
Looking at her innocent, curious face, he wondered what her reaction would be to his rough touch.
Would she blush and be startled, or shyly lower her head?
He thought he could handle a slap for touching her soft shoulder… maybe several times.
But he hesitated, fearing she might cry or show revulsion.
Why did he feel so small and pathetic in front of this woman?
Just then, he heard a carriage approaching.
Without further hesitation, he placed his hand somewhere between her shoulder and arm, pulling her close.
But he forgot something crucial.
Barath was a warrior hardened by years of battle. Selene was as delicate as a rabbit in comparison.
Even though he tried to be gentle, it was his first attempt, and his strength was too much.
She was pulled into him with a small, strange sound, hitting his side.
At that moment, a carriage with the Belias emblem rushed past them.
Barath saw the emblem, realizing it saved many from harm, but he still planned to deal with the careless coachman.
He checked on Selene, who had made a small noise, and she looked up at him, gripping his waist.
“Thank you.”
For what? Didn’t she just make a discomforting sound because of him?
Selene, awkwardly smiling, told him her condition.
“I think I sprained my ankle. Can I borrow your arm?”
Feeling the arm was already hers, he nodded and offered his arm before she finished speaking.
***
In the carriage returning to the castle, Zart thought back to his conversation with the Empress.
“Tell me, why is Barath looking for a witch?”
The direct mention of searching for a witch made his mind go blank.
If he had known in advance that the Empress knew anything about witches, he would never have sought her help.
Zart couldn’t be entirely honest or lie completely.
He carefully chose his words.
“A suspicious figure approached the castle recently, wrapped in bandages.”
“Bandages?”
“Yes. During the investigation, we discovered a large number of items traded near the eternal snow mountain that witches might use. We are now tracking this figure, suspecting them to be a witch.”
His words were true, though the order of events and the evidence were slightly twisted. There was no need to reveal that.
The Empress sighed softly, as if bored.
“I can’t trust your words.”
Zart, hoping to prove his sincerity, took out a small vial and placed it on the table.
“You can use Abelanon.”
The Empress chuckled, almost pitying him. Her raised eyebrow showed how ridiculous she found it.
“The medicine of truth. I also know the weaknesses of that medicine.”
Zart felt his neck stiffen with tension.
If he had known the Empress would come to the north, he would have been more discreet in his investigation of the witch.
He had tried to avoid connecting the investigation to the Grand Duchess, but it was unclear how well he had done. The Empress was exceptionally skilled at hunting witches, finding even the smallest clues.
Ignoring Zart, the Empress muttered to herself.
“Come to think of it, didn’t one of the Soul Circles fall into his hands?”
It wasn’t a question.
She seemed leisurely, like a fisher with a catch.
“Zart, is Barath raising a witch? Planning to feed her other witches?”
Her tone was deceptively gentle, but the content was anything but.
She wasn’t expecting an answer.
She was observing him for any reaction.
He couldn’t even swallow his spit under her relentless gaze.
Zart realized his mistake in seeking her help.
Asking her to protect the Grand Duchess was like expecting snow to stay intact under spring sunshine.
Was it a coincidence she arrived in the north during his lord’s rage period?
Before today’s meeting, he hadn’t realized the Empress was interested in the north’s movements. Since moving to the capital, she hadn’t visited the north or sent any letters.
He hadn’t suspected she might have placed someone to observe.
Regardless of the secrecy, he now had to find and eliminate those spies.
He also needed to find the Grand Duchess’s original body or soul quickly. Otherwise, the witch-hunter might discover everything.
The carriage that passed Barath and Selene stopped far ahead.
Zart stuck his head out to see the couple walking arm in arm.
His massive lord seemed unsure how to handle his small wife.
Despite being married for days, they still hadn’t even kissed properly.
Zart remembered his lord on the battlefield.
Sometimes leading rational strategies, other times charging into certain death like a demon.
The thunderous “Zart!” echoed in his ears, bringing back vivid memories.
He recalled being pushed by a fierce force, waking to see his lord’s furious, bloodied face missing an eye.
Zart closed his eyes tightly.
Yes.
That awkward man was his lord.
The minimal safety net that protected the woman he loved was gone.
But could he still believe in the slim possibility that she could be his leash and act like bait in front of him?
