SALP Chapter 23

Lanthe had missed him for the past ten years. It had been an overwhelmingly immense feeling.

Resignation and sorrow had always occupied one corner of her heart—the possibility that he'd been captured by a witch and taken somewhere from which he could never return. She'd thought it was a natural emotion that would inevitably arise between herself and him, separated by such distance.

But perhaps he'd been different.

He was alive and well. With power in his hands as a lord possessing a great estate. If he'd wanted to, he could have visited Roas at any time.

'Had he not returned all this time because he didn't want to see me...?'

A suspicion she'd been desperately denying as absolutely impossible suddenly surfaced in her consciousness. Even though she knew that what people say in their sleep, what they say unconsciously, isn't always their true feelings.

Her mood was weighed down by a ceaseless drift of confusing thoughts.

'Vigo. Did you not return to Roas because you didn't want to meet us?'

'Did you not return to our hometown because you didn't want to see me...?'

Questions she felt she could never ask Vigo surged within Lanthe's heart.

She spent the entire afternoon in a heavy mood, half-reading her book, half-eating her meals, before going to bed.

She barely calmed her mind listening to the gently falling rain and fell asleep.

But not long after, she woke from a frightening dream. Rumble. Thunder shook the atmosphere, and thickened raindrops pounded fiercely against the shutters.

'Is Vigo all right...?'

She could only hope Warner's words about a "slight" injury were true. Even if the wound hadn't seemed slight at all to her own eyes. His subordinate who regularly assessed and cared for his lord's condition after each battle would know better.

She pulled the blanket over herself and tossed and turned, trying to sleep again.

While floundering through thoughts where she couldn't distinguish reality from dreams, she felt her body being heavily constricted.

It was stifling and hot, as if she were beside flames.

'It hurts...'

She moaned softly and struggled. She tried to struggle, but in truth, not even a finger would move as she wished. It was as if the blanket had turned to lead, binding her entire body tightly and oppressing her.

Just as she thought she was experiencing sleep paralysis and tried to thrash with all her might—

"Don't."

A man's hoarse voice came clearly to her ear.

"Don't run away."

Realizing who was breathing warmly near her ear, she finally opened her previously unyielding eyes.

"Don't run away."

Vigo had climbed on top of her and was holding her tightly, blanket and all.

The burning heat and weight hadn't been sleep paralysis—they were his.

"Don't run away, Lanthe."

"I... can't breathe. Vigo. Move over to the side a bit..."

Lanthe struggled and moved her hand just a little to pat his side over the blanket. She strained with all her might to tap him tap-tap like she'd comforted him by patting him when he'd suffered from high fevers as a child.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Why did you run away?"

His roughly gasping breath felt unstable.

Was he even in a condition to be moving around instead of lying still? After chasing her away, how had he gotten here?

"Vigo. I'm not going. Let go."

When she called to him gently and patted him softly, the strength drained from his arms.

She didn't miss the opportunity and pushed him off, laying him beside her. The blanket that had been binding her like a net loosened, and he slid down from her body. Thunk. His arm fell hard onto the bed, startling her so much that she hurriedly checked whether his position was wrong.

"You scared me..."

'I thought his arm got twisted.'

"You weren't even wearing a shirt when you were walking around?"

'Why did the people nursing him let him wander around alone?' When she discovered blood seeping through the bandages wound tightly around his waist, her stomach twisted.

Meanwhile, he'd collapsed in one corner of the bed and fallen asleep as if unconscious.

"Lanthe."

That's when she heard a cautious woman's voice from outside.

"I should check on the Lord's condition. May I come in for a moment?"

"Please come in."

It was a person named Mel. A maid who'd worked in medicine, wasn't it? A few days ago, right after Lanthe had woken up here, Mel had checked her temperature and examined her condition.

She set a tray with a towel and water bowl on the table and approached with muffled footsteps. After calmly touching Vigo's forehead and checking the bandages, she said in a whisper:

"I'll place a cold water towel on him. He took fever medicine before sleeping, but he seems to have raised his temperature a bit by moving around too forcefully."

"Wasn't there anyone guarding the Lord's room? How did he get here with his body in this state?"

At Lanthe's question, Mel lowered her head with a troubled expression.

"I'm sorry. Normally when Sir Warner stops him, the Lord tends to comply... There are only a few people in our castle who can physically restrain the Lord..."

Even though she knew she wasn't in a position to interrogate his subordinates like this.

"That fool must have exerted himself with that body."

Seeing him here alone with his bloodied body made her angry at both his subordinates and Vigo.

"Yes. Sir Warner said it seemed better to support and help him rather than get into a physical struggle. And he did become docile once we brought him here."

But what she resented most was herself, unable to understand anything about him.

"He really is so stubborn..."

"It can't be helped."

Mel smiled faintly while watching Lanthe's face.

"How could he not desperately want to be beside his lover? Especially when in pain. Earlier, he must have seen something strange from the medicine and said harsh words to you, Lanthe... Please don't take it to heart."

After placing the water towel on his forehead and quietly withdrawing, Lanthe watched her retreating figure with a flushed face.

'Even that person is misunderstanding...'

"It's cold."

Vigo's moaning voice was heard.

"Cold."

"Are you awake?"

There was no answer. He didn't seem to have woken up.

He was trembling rigidly as he lay straight, as if bound by invisible ropes.

Lanthe climbed onto the bed and touched his cheek. His face, which had been pale earlier, was flushed from fever. Like when he'd suffered from colds as a child.

"...You'll be fine. After you sleep well."

When she slipped her hand under the blanket and gently stroked the uninjured side of his stomach, he seemed to relax a bit and let out a long sigh.

She lay beside him and sang a small lullaby. Whenever she'd stroked his frequently ailing stomach and sung songs she couldn't sing well, he'd been reassured and would fall asleep.

"Dream of flying with pretty birds, my child. You are the one we love dearly. Angel wings guard over your head, my child. Dream of flying with pretty birds, taking the blue sky as your playground..."

Tomorrow when he opened his eyes, he might carry out what he'd said earlier. Rix and Mel had comforted her by saying their master had spoken nonsense because he was in pain, but there was no guarantee he hadn't spoken his true feelings.

"Return to Derek immediately. Since you aren't providing the information I need and are essentially useless, I'm sending you back to Derek in exchange for 20,000 krone."

What should she do if he spoke that way and tried to send her to Derek?

Anxiety rose in Lanthe at the thought that the grace period until winter might be shortened.

'Should I confess? About what Derek wants from the 'Princess of Raphlang.'' Vigo already seemed to roughly guess about the legend of Raphlang's revival...

"You know, I'm actually the angel of Eründel. So he wants me to sing. A song to revive the kingdom."

If she said something like that, he'd laugh at how absurd it was.

"You're tone-deaf, Lanthe."

She felt as if she could hear Vigo's voice.

'Right. I'm not an angel in the first place.'

She let out a small sigh and curled up her body.

Inside the blanket where she lay with him was warm. She felt proud of herself for becoming somewhat accustomed to seeing an adult man's bare upper body, and being able to easily slip just her hand under the blanket to stroke over the bandages.

'Ah, anyway, it's time to sleep. I'll worry about it tomorrow morning...'

"Keuk."

Suddenly her throat was choked and she thrashed about, gasping.

"I... can't breathe."

Heuk, heuk. The sound of roughly gasping breaths rang in her ear like a beast.

"Vigo. Vigo. Can't breathe."

How fortunate that she had enough presence of mind to realize her throat was being crushed not by his hand but by his forearm.

When she appealed while tapping his arm, the arm strength that had been tightly embracing her neck loosened a bit. Lanthe ducked her head and rolled her body to escape from his arms. Then she took a deep breath.

"Ah... I need to stay far away when you're sick. Your body is a weapon."

As she lay looking at the ceiling and stroked her chest while complaining, he suddenly grabbed her arm. She quickly rolled her body into a ball again and took a defensive stance.

"Sleep quietly. The sun hasn't risen yet."

"Come here."

His voice was a bit better than last night. The strength of his grip was so strong it was hard to believe he was an injured person who'd bled profusely.

However, worried about the unusual heat from his body when he'd embraced her, Lanthe couldn't forcefully push him away.

"Why are you running away?"

He mumbled with his face buried in her shoulder.

"Because you're hugging too tightly..."

As she spoke, she felt like something wasn't right and closed her mouth.

He said nothing either.

As she quietly stayed in his embrace, the gasping breath at her ear gradually stabilized. Then eventually it changed to a calm sleeping sound and settled.

"......"

The edges of the small window in the bedroom gradually turned pale blue.

Short commands rang out as guards changed shifts, and she could hear someone's coughing as they went outside to start their day.

Before outside became completely bright, a physician came to examine Vigo's wound and change his bandages, and Mel wiped his body with a lukewarm towel.

Throughout all this, Vigo didn't open his eyes once. Not even when the sound of a servant's cart bringing breakfast for two people was heard.

Intoxicated by medicine and sleep, not knowing who came and went, he only tightly gripped one of Lanthe's wrists the entire time.