"Don't ever make me do something like that again! I mean it!"
Jeremy said. It was the first thing I heard the moment I came to.
When I asked how long I'd been unconscious, she told me three days had passed. Compared to last time, that's nothing — I tried to joke. Jeremy glared at me murderously.
"Do you have any idea how hard I worked? The apprentice, the Minister of Military Affairs, and Your Majesty — treating all three of you nearly made my eyes fall out of my head."
Jeremy covered her face with her hand as though reliving a nightmare.
"Ugh. And all three of you were practically half-corpses... I don't even want to talk about it."
"Yes, yes. You worked hard. The other two are all right?"
"Your Majesty was the worst. You were practically a walking corpse. All your teeth had fallen out, your muscles were in tatters. The only reason you're still breathing is because you're the Demon Lord — nothing more."
Jeremy said she'd used up every last one of the rare medicinal herbs she'd been hoarding like treasures to treat the three of us.
Treating the wounds themselves hadn't been difficult. The problem was healing them without leaving scars. Removing scars from a body covered in wounds required work that was practically surgery.
She lit incense to prevent tetanus, deployed surgical tools and all manner of potions, and carefully regenerated our skin. Since letting the wounds heal naturally would have made things far more complicated, she'd had to treat our bodies while simultaneously rushing to reconstruct flesh. She stayed up three straight nights.
She'd performed surgery alone for over forty consecutive hours. The stress must have been immense. But what could I do? I quietly listened to Jeremy's complaints like the good patient I was.
"They say scars are medals for men, right? That's why I treated Your Majesty last."
"Well, sure, but I'm the Demon Lord..."
"For the love of all that's holy, if you're going to be a king, at least act like one."
Jeremy shot back, her face gaunt with exhaustion.
"I deliberately left two lines of scarring, so don't say I didn't warn you."
"Ugh."
Jeremy seemed to want me to reflect on my actions.
"I think I handled things pretty well, all things considered. Was it really that bad?"
"As a ruler, it was the best possible response. As a human being, it was the worst."
Jeremy pulled out a pipe and lit some unidentifiable tobacco.
"Ah, give me some of that too."
"Don't even dream of smoking before your wounds have healed."
Bitch.
"Do you know the Minister of State has been fasting? She hasn't eaten anything for three straight days. At least that's better than the Minister of Military Affairs, who's been staring blankly into space like she's lost her mind. As for the apprentice... the kid is apparently fine. Well, they were never normal to begin with."
In short, the Demon Lord's Castle felt like a funeral parlor.
I answered calmly that I guessed so. Jeremy stared at me for a long moment.
"You've worked hard. You can go rest now."
"Aren't you afraid of death, Lord Dantalion?"
"...I never expected to hear that question from an assassin."
I looked up at the ceiling.
"I was afraid. But I also had the certainty that I wouldn't die."
"You're hopeless."
Jeremy shook her head. She gathered her surgical tools and incense and left the Demon Lord's chamber. I didn't forget to order that Lapis be summoned.
A short while later, Lapis entered the room. Before I could even offer a greeting, she immediately prostrated herself fully on the ground.
"Lapis. Come here."
Lapis rose with her head still bowed. She seemed to take a few steps forward, then prostrated herself on the floor again. I could feel her stubborn refusal to ever face me. I gave a bitter smile.
"Closer."
A petty battle of wills ensued. Every time I told her to come closer, Lapis would move — but only a few steps before bowing down again. After repeating this several times, Lapis finally arrived before me.
"Even closer."
Lapis ended up standing right beside the bed. Her face was hidden because she kept her head bowed, but it didn't matter. I could guess what she was thinking. She clearly believed everything was her fault.
Why couldn't she have stopped Laura sooner? Why hadn't she saved Daisy? If she'd acted faster and more decisively, her master wouldn't have had to suffer wounds like those.
But she couldn't apologize. She couldn't say she was sorry. She understood perfectly well what resolve her master had carried when shouldering that punishment.
"No one is to question this matter further. This is my responsibility." That was the intent behind how I'd distributed the punishment.
If Lapis apologized here, she would be stealing that responsibility from me. It would negate my resolve and my sacrifice.
That was what Lapis was thinking. She was tormented by endless guilt, yet she refused to let the words of apology leave her lips — out of respect for my wishes.
And so, I quietly took her hand. I could feel how gaunt the back of it was. She'd gone without food and water for days, hadn't she.
"I'm sorry, Lapis."
"I'm sorry."
I never apologize to anyone. Because apologies are born from relationships that go both ways.
I was wrong. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Please give me one more chance. I'll never do it again. In other words, I want to keep spending my future days with you...
The dynamic between apology and forgiveness, therefore, does not hold when the other party is dead. Because a dead person cannot share future time with me.
I can neither apologize nor be forgiven. Apologizing in that state would be nothing more than a unilateral expression of will. No one can live my life for me. Likewise, no one can forgive on behalf of someone else's death. It's perfectly obvious...
The only exception is Lapis.
She who gave me the chance to succeed, who helped me, who plotted with me to plunge the continent into despair, and who stayed by my side afterward without a word of complaint.
A long time passed. Lapis raised her head.
She looked slightly more haggard than usual, but Lapis was still there. Those blue eyes — always expressionless, yet capable of looking straight through a person. Eyes I truly loved.
"...I will make absolutely sure this never happens again."
"Yes. And I'll never use this kind of method again."
"It's a promise, Lord Dantalion."
I accepted the promise gladly.
I shook off my wounds relatively quickly and got out of bed.
If I hid myself for too long, the Saint would grow suspicious. And it wasn't just the Saint. I was being watched by the entire continent. It was only by luck that I hadn't been found out — countless spies were lurking in my territory.
If I stayed hidden, strange rumors would spread. Disappearing during the festival was especially bad — I'd vanished in front of everyone. There was even a risk of all manner of wild rumors being born.
Being sick didn't mean I could just lie in bed. That was the fate of a public figure.
Jeremy nagged at me relentlessly.
"Are you really all right? Truly?"
"Yes, I'm really fully healed. Would I lie to you?"
"Yes."
She answered instantly.
A monarch who had earned such a dismal level of trust from his subordinate stood right here.
"If anything comes up, I'll tell you right away, so just let me go. All right?"
I finally managed to convince Jeremy.
...To be honest, the feeling in my back still hadn't returned.
It was as though the nerves there had died — I could barely feel anything. I tested it by pricking my back with a sharp needle, and all I felt was something like a blunt fingernail pressing against skin.
My body itself had healed, so it must have been a psychological issue. The so-called condition of being mentally crippled.
Whether it was aftereffects or something else, every time I woke up, my entire body ached as though I were being whipped in that moment again. Sometimes the nightmares and the pain blurred together. It was horrific.
My already minimal three hours of sleep per day had shrunk further to four or five hours every two days. Still, it was enough. I had never once been grateful for myself as a person, but I offered thanks dozens of times a day for my body.
I went out to the Grand Duke's assembly hall to show my subjects I was alive and well, then went looking for Daisy. Of course, Daisy was lying in her own bedroom, not in that damned underground prison.
When I opened the door and walked in, Daisy glanced my way.
Then she turned her head back and went right back to reading. Her master had come to visit, and she didn't even get up. An insolent slave, as always.
"Still lying around? Lazy girl."
"Unlike you, Father, I'm just an ordinary human."
Daisy replied without taking her eyes off her book.
"My whole body still aches, so I'm afraid I can't properly receive you. Please be gracious enough to forgive me."
"An ordinary kid wouldn't be reading a book like this."
I smirked and snatched the book from Daisy's hands. The cover bore a title in the ancient imperial script: *Regula ad directionem ingeni* — Rules for the Guidance of the Mind. When the book was abruptly taken from her, Daisy narrowed her eyes with a sharp scowl.
"Give it back. I was just getting to the interesting part."
"Don't get the wrong idea. I didn't shoulder that punishment for your sake."
It was a statement with no context. But Daisy pressed her lips shut.
"If I had let the Minister of Military Affairs torture you, all you'd be is a pitiful victim. And victims are inherently good. I simply didn't want you cast in the role of the virtuous one."
"...I know."
Daisy let out a soft sigh.
"As if I wouldn't understand Father's intentions."
"Then why were you reading the book? Don't try to deceive me. Reading when no one else is around is merely reading. But reading when someone has come to visit — that's avoidance."
I grinned.
"Facing me head-on was gnawing at you somewhere deep down. That's why you avoided it. You feel indebted to me, don't you? If I'm wrong, go ahead and prove me wrong."
"Humans have hearts as well as heads."
Daisy made a disgusted face.
"Even if I understand what Father thinks, how could a human heart simply disappear?"
"Your reasoning is so pathetic it's not even funny. That's exactly why you're still far from ready. I'm not telling you to eliminate your human heart. I'm telling you not to show it to others!"
I hurled the book to the ground and shouted.
"There are two reasons to expose your heart to others. One is to flaunt your own strength, and the other is to seek sympathy. Those who flaunt their strength recklessly create needless enemies, and those who seek sympathy for no reason will eventually end up pitying themselves. Either way, it's the sort of thing only an immature clown would do! Do you intend to become a clown?"
Daisy gritted her teeth. Since no rebuttal came, it seemed I'd hit a nerve. I curled the corner of my mouth upward.
"I heard you cut ties with your family. That's somewhat pitiful. I'll give you credit for the skill of hiding that from me for two full years."
It was the second compliment I'd ever given Daisy, but the kid didn't seem happy about it in the slightest. Still a brat without a single endearing quality. I playfully ruffled Daisy's bangs and turned my back.
"The Minister of Military Affairs will come to apologize to you today. When she does, don't forgive her."
Behind me, I heard Daisy's confused voice.
"Why not? Isn't she Father's beloved concubine?"
"I don't have a concubine. Even if Laura was momentarily weakened because of me, she was never someone who needed to beg forgiveness to earn the right to live. Laura is strong."
I left those words behind and walked away.
"And she must become stronger still."
The door thudded shut behind me.
Next, it was time to visit Laura's bedroom.