"But Persephone also—"
"There are no buts, Your Highness. I have little need for personal affection—I've lived alone for so long. Adding someone else who is too close would only make me uncomfortable. You, on the other hand, have happiness within reach. Why won't you grasp it?"
"..."
Theresia did not answer. She only held her tighter. And when Theresia left, she heard a vague, indistinct voice.
"You... can join... at any time..."
The voice was faint, almost like sleep-talking.
Even Kal'tsit wasn't sure whether it had really been sleep-talking.
Because after Theresia left, her knees could no longer support her weight. Her strength could no longer sustain her movements.
She collapsed onto the ground. The blood inside her was hot, yet she felt cold as ice. Her heart pounded relentlessly in her chest, but the blood it pumped seemed to be carrying thousands upon thousands of fine, sharp needles.
It hurt. Her heart hurt. Her whole body hurt.
When she opened her mouth, she could barely speak. The air she exhaled was warm, yet the frost-like agony seemed ready to tear her tongue from her mouth.
Why did it hurt?
She didn't know.
Because the only clear thought that surfaced in her mind was—
—"Your Highness, you must find happiness."
Half an hour later, Kal'tsit became Kal'tsit again.
Half a week later, Surtr, still carrying unhealed wounds, placed before her a document that was of vital importance to Kal'tsit, but had been lost in a town because of the changing battle situation.
The document was stained with blood. Surtr's blood.
And Kal'tsit no longer remembered how she had responded to that kindness, or what words she had used to conceal the turmoil in her heart.
She only knew that after Surtr left, she did not cry.
She simply did