SBTNS Chapter 37

As soon as Batis returned from day patrol, he headed to the guard post's pharmacy. The Valdar guarding the pharmacy was old and couldn't bear the warm sunlight, so he was dozing off.

He entered quietly and opened the medicine cabinets smaller than his palm one by one. He brought his nose close to the herbs, then opened other cabinets. His movements were careful. The most frequently used herbs were positioned within reach, but what Batis was looking for wasn't among them.

He glanced above the medicine cabinets. Batis was tall enough to reach there. At the very top were small amounts of medicines whose uses were unknown.

While checking herbs by rubbing them to confirm their smell, Batis fixed his gaze somewhere. He traced the Kamilak script carved on the medicine cabinet.

"Magal..."

There had been a magal scent from the cigarettes Avette smoked. Batis fingered the moss-like dried grass and then closed the medicine cabinet. He woke the dozing Valdar. The old man yawned greatly and looked at Batis with sleepy eyes.

"Is there something you need?"

"Is there medicine good for restoring energy?"

"Energy?"

The old man waved his hands dismissively.

"Such things are useless even if you boil herbs and drink them. You need to stew a whole goat and eat it at every meal. Then even a feeble person will overflow with strength."

Batis thought he should feed that to Charmille and pointed above the medicine cabinet.

"What's that up there?"

"Which one do you mean?"

"The one labeled magal."

As soon as he heard the name of the herb, the old man's expression changed completely. The old man suddenly looked at Batis suspiciously.

"Why are you asking about that?"

"I wanted to know about emergency medicines, but is it a dangerous herb?"

The old man stared intently at Batis, then got up his old body. The old man climbed a ladder and opened the medicine cabinet with weak hands, taking out the dried moss.

Batis, who received the magal, examined it carefully in the sunlight. The clumped moss looked like a type of grass when trimmed to appropriate lengths. When he rubbed the moss, it couldn't maintain its form and crumbled weakly. The crumbled shape could easily be mistaken for tobacco leaves.

The old man pressed down on Batis's hand holding the magal as if warning him never to bring it to his mouth.

"This is expensive because it only grows on coastal cliffs. But it's not because it's expensive that I won't give it to you."

The old man, sitting in his chair, gazed at the magal in the large hand.

"When training or on night patrol, there are times when you get hurt without realizing it. Especially awakened ones—they often lose control of their strength in an instant. For example, if you swing a sword with such reckless force that your bones shatter and pierce right through the flesh... At times like that, if you deeply inhale the smoke from burning this magal, or steep it in water and drink it, it has pain-relieving effects. The effect is so powerful it makes opium look like nothing. It doesn't build tolerance and isn't addictive either, so how remarkable is that?"

As if telling him to put it back where it belonged after looking, the old man gestured with his chin. Batis returned the magal to the medicine cabinet.

"Are there no side effects?"

"Why wouldn't there be? The side effects are tremendous, which is why I keep just a little bit at the very top."

The old man, who let out a hollow laugh, tapped the floor with his cane. The old man spoke sternly so Batis wouldn't take interest in magal.

"Even using magal a little ruins your head. Even if you have to use it, you should use just a goat dropping's worth. Magal is truly a last resort painkiller to use only when there's absolutely no choice. It's something to use only for Valdar suffering from fatal diseases."

Fatal disease... Batis repeated the old man's words to himself and gazed at the medicine cabinet where magal was stored. The image of Avette sitting near the window smoking magal like cigarettes came to mind.

Even when smoking cigarettes, there was a faint magal scent in the smoke. It meant he had smoked enough for that smell to permeate the pipe.

He managed his expression that was about to turn bitter. Thinking that Charmille would surely cry if she knew this made his heart heavy.

"What symptoms appear when the head is damaged?"

"It differs by person, by Valdar. Sometimes tongues get twisted, sometimes things appear in multiples, sometimes they suffer insomnia, vomiting and headaches are basic so they lose weight rapidly... Then they die. If you use magal, well, you might live a month or two."

"Do awakened ones suffer the same side effects?"

"Awakened ones might have milder symptoms. They'd live longer than a month or two. But they can't avoid side effects."

Batis thought he should watch Avette and stepped back from the medicine cabinet.

"By any chance, is there a specific place that stews the goat you mentioned?"

He naturally changed the subject. Fortunately, the old man didn't wonder why Batis had asked about magal.

"Go down to the village and ask the Valdar who runs the pharmacy. It's work that requires adding medicinal ingredients, so I don't recommend doing it at home or in the guard post. If you mess it up, you'd have to throw it all away. The pharmacy will take commissions."

"Thank you for telling me."

Batis left the pharmacy as it was. The old man watched Batis's retreating figure and quietly clicked his tongue.

"That young man is needlessly sharp-eyed. Or perhaps Avette has finally lost his touch..."

Batis, who left the pharmacy, immediately went to meet Charmille. He was bothered by how Charmille had cried over her lost memories.

Hoping Charmille wouldn't regain her memories was purely Batis's selfishness. Charmille had the right to know what had happened to her past self.

When the tear-stained face came to mind, his chest ached. Self-loathing and guilt for committing such terrible acts against Charmille because of his own greed came flooding in. Should he tell her the truth someday? But after speaking?

His spine grew cold imagining Charmille glaring at him with hatred-filled eyes. When the certainty came that he wouldn't even be allowed to stay by her side, fear overwhelmed his reason.

His hands trembled as he roughly rubbed his face. Batis resolved that he must never tell, steeling his heart as he entered the newlywed house.

"Char..."

Batis, who was about to call her name, hesitated at the scene that unfolded. A meal was set on the small dining table.

Charmille, who had been touching the bowl containing borscht with her palm to keep it from getting cold, immediately stood up when she saw Batis. Batis couldn't take his eyes off the dining table. Charmille scratched her cheek with an awkward smile.

"You cooked for me every day. So today I tried cooking..."

Charmille, who was about to say she worked hard, hesitated. Belatedly reflecting on the cooking process, she had diligently washed carrots and potatoes, suffered teasing from the women while stirring the pot with a ladle as instructed, but somehow borscht was completed.

Only then did she realize she'd been tricked. Charmille had barely done anything.

She was irritated but also relieved. The borscht the women made was delicious. Though she was annoyed at being sneakily pushed aside for being hopeless at cooking, she couldn't serve Batis something that tasted awful. Maybe it was better this way after all.

Charmille thought whether she should confront the women or be grateful to them, and put her hands on her hips.

"Anyway, I cooked. Sit down quickly. You have to go on night patrol too."

Batis stared blankly at Charmille's cooking. It seemed like something he had never imagined happening, so he didn't know how to react. Batis, who had been standing still, hesitantly opened his lips.

"You cooked..."

"Yes."

"For me...?"

It felt like a dream. It was cooking made by none other than Charmille. The first dish Charmille had ever made for him, whom he had loved for seven hundred years.

An indescribable emotion surged up. Even though he was aware they had become husband and wife, seeing the dinner Charmille had prepared made him feel like they had now truly become family. That sensation of living together with Charmille made Batis, who had one-sidedly loved the princess for so long, choke up.

Batis, whose throat had tightened, smiled awkwardly and sat in front of the meal. He forgot the unpleasant mood caused by painful past memories and Charmille's tears long ago.

Batis couldn't hold back his laughter. The thought of politely suppressing his rising smile when Charmille's heart in cooking for someone like him was too precious to bear.

Charmille, sitting across from him, handed Batis utensils.

"Try it quickly. This should be eaten when it's moderately warm to be delicious."

"Thank you. I'll eat well."

Charmille watched Batis eat with a face alternating between tension and excitement.

"Is it... delicious?"

Though knowing the borscht the women made would be delicious, Charmille asked with a worried face. Batis, who smiled broadly, nodded.

"It's delicious."

At that answer, Charmille smiled brightly. Charmille asked repeatedly with a joyful face.

"Really? You're not just saying that?"

The green eyes filled with happiness sparkled brilliantly. Batis, whose lips curved upward, embraced his bowl as if not wanting the borscht to be taken away.

"Can I eat all of this by myself?"

"Of course!"

It was the highest praise possible. Charmille, unable to contain her joy and opening her mouth wide, lifted the pot. The pot was full of borscht. Charmille picked out only the lamb and served it on Batis's plate.

"This is all yours, so you can eat it all by yourself. Hurry, no, eat slowly. You shouldn't get indigestion. There's more borscht in the kitchen besides this, so tell me if it's not enough. I'll bring it."

Batis had a better appetite than other awakened ones. As if to prove that his question about eating it all himself wasn't empty words, he quickly devoured what was in his bowl.

Charmille served everything in the pot into his bowl. Though both the amount and speed of eating were impressive, Batis ate the borscht maintaining proper posture without making a single slurping sound.

Charmille, supporting her face with both hands, happily watched Batis eat. Her gaze toward Batis gradually filled with tender emotions.

"Batis, it really is delicious, right?"

At that question, Batis showed her the bowl that was nearly half empty. Charmille smiled foolishly with happiness.

"The potatoes and carrots in there, I prepared them. I cleaned them spotlessly without a single grain of dirt. I had such a hard time choosing only pretty ones to give you."

"Wasn't cooking difficult?"

"The kids working in the kitchen helped, so there was nothing difficult."

"You didn't hurt yourself while cutting, did you?"

Batis examined her fingers. Charmille had been kicked out while cutting but didn't know that, foolishly grumbling, then deliberately acted proud.

"Look, is there an injured finger? No, right? I'm a woman who gets things done when I set my mind to it."

At the cute boasting, Batis raised the corners of his mouth.

"Still, don't cook often. You'll get eczema on your fingers. If sparks fly, you could get burns too."

His voice was gentle as he spoke. Based on what she experienced in the kitchen, Charmille realized she wasn't born with a talent for cooking. She wasn't foolish enough to stubbornly push forward with things she couldn't do, so she obediently nodded at Batis's words.

"Okay. I'll only cook occasionally, like celebrating birthdays."

"Yes, that's enough."

Batis continued eating. He seemed diligent as he chewed his food thoroughly as if someone might steal his cooking. Charmille couldn't take her eyes off that sight. Though she wasn't the one eating her fill, she felt good.

There was no reason for feeling good. She just wanted to watch Batis being happy for a long time. Though she had no talent for cooking, if Batis was happy, she felt she could live in the kitchen. Caring more for others than herself was a special experience for Charmille.

The tickling sensation below her neck stimulated Charmille. The same impulse that had made her kiss Batis's forehead and lips in front of the villagers, regardless of who was watching, urged Charmille on.

Unable to contain the soft emotions, Charmille finally got up on her knees. She took away the utensils and pressed their lips together. Through the joined lips came the sound of swallowing a lump of food.

Charmille, who withdrew her lips, looked at Batis. Batis moved his lips slightly and blinked once. His eyes seemed to ask why she had kissed him, but his ears were bright red.

He really was a funny man. He acted like he knew no shame when their flesh intertwined, yet blushed at a light kiss. Charmille embraced Batis as he was.

"Batis."

"Yes."

She should say she liked him. But her lips wouldn't part.

Charmille was flustered. She had the desire to confess, but she couldn't speak. It felt like something invisible was blocking her mouth.

"I'll definitely take you outside the tower. You were always curious about what's beyond the night sky. Let's go together. There will surely be stars as beautiful as you there."

The moment a familiar voice came to mind, it felt like her heart plummeted downward. The feeling of losing something precious was eerie.

Charmille, whose expression had hardened, was confused, forgetting that she should confess her feelings. It was the first time a suddenly surfacing memory felt unwelcome.

She suppressed her confused feelings. The voice that suddenly rang in her head was as gentle as Batis's but had a different quality. She was certain it wasn't Batis.

Charmille distrusted that certainty while being consumed by fear. Her eyes had already filled with terror. She hoped the owner of the voice that came to mind was Batis. No, it had to be Batis.

"Charmille?"

Batis's gentle voice shook Charmille, who had fallen into dark thoughts. Coming to her senses, Charmille awkwardly smiled and faced Batis.

"I'm happy that you ate the food deliciously. I was worried because I'm not skilled."

"I could eat even filth deliciously if you gave it to me."

At the sincere words, Charmille laughed. Thanks to that, the strange feeling subsided considerably.

"I'd never give you filth. I picked only pretty potatoes to feed you."

Batis, who chuckled softly, temporarily moved the dining table aside. Affection flowed in the hands caressing her white face.

"So what were you trying to say earlier?"

Charmille, flustered, rolled her eyes. She had to say something.

"Did you know village people came during the day?"

Batis showed an expression of hearing this for the first time. He headed straight to the pharmacy after returning from patrol, so he hadn't received any updates.

"Why did the village humans come? Did they come to complain about something?"

"No, that's not it. The village representative came and proposed a feast, then left."

"A feast? Those bastards?"

Batis couldn't help but frown at those words, knowing what was happening in the lower village.

"They want to hold a feast as a gesture of reconciliation."

At the word reconciliation, Batis snorted.

"It won't be a feast of laughter and merriment."

"I think so too. At the end of the feast, whether people or Valdar, someone will probably shout and overturn tables, right?"

"Not all of the guard post will attend such a d*amn feast... Did the captain select participants? Or has the selection already finished?"

Charmille hesitated to answer. Whether members would be selected or not was something Charmille didn't know either. However, Avette had said he would take Charmille to the rabbit hole if she gave him an answer.

She glanced at Batis hesitantly. It was obvious how Batis would react if she said that. She should have said she didn't know well, but she hesitated and missed the timing to speak.

The smile that had been on Batis's lips gradually faded. Realizing what the silence meant, Batis took Charmille's hand.

"You're not thinking of attending, are you?"

Batis asked in as gentle a tone as possible. Instead of answering, Charmille closed her mouth. When she couldn't meet his eyes and avoided his gaze, Batis, whose expression had hardened, pulled Charmille toward him forcefully.

Charmille, who was suddenly embraced by Batis, looked up. The gaze looking at her was cold. He wasn't angry. Batis was genuinely worried about Charmille's safety.

"Answer me. Are you thinking of attending?"

Charmille, who had been hesitating, lowered her gaze.

"The village representative's letter had my name in it. He specifically invited me to come with the captain..."

"Those bastards, knowing what trap they've prepared, you want to go there. No. Not a chance."

Batis, who cut off her words, raised his voice. Though Charmille knew Batis would oppose it, she couldn't help but flare up. Charmille, who raised her head, looked straight at Batis.

"But...!"

You can protect me.

She barely swallowed the words she was about to blurt out. That was the opposite of what Charmille had told Avette.

"I don't like hiding behind someone. If I can fight, I want to fight. If I don't have weapons, I'll endure. I don't want to run away."

Charmille bit her lips in disappointment with herself. She should have said she could protect herself. That she could easily overcome whatever trap people had set, that she could fight and win no matter what...

But despite her firm resolution, she couldn't say anything. Charmille was weak. If several villagers ganged up on her, she would be helplessly defeated, let alone fight.

Her neck grew hot with shame. The words she had confidently spouted to Avette flew back like a boomerang to strike Charmille.

Charmille finally faced reality. She had something she wanted to do, but she couldn't do anything.

The image of a woman's back, endlessly gazing out the window while trapped in a tower, flashed through her mind. Charmille wasn't trapped in a tower, but she was no different from that woman. The princess was still in the world inside the tower.

Batis, who had been trying to get a promise that she wouldn't attend the feast, noticed that Charmille's eyes had rapidly darkened. The irises that had sparkled beautifully lost their light and sank into despair. Batis hurriedly cupped Charmille's face.

"Charmille, what's wrong? Is it because I raised my voice? Or because I pressured you not to attend the feast? That's..."

"I won't go."

Her voice was calm as she answered. Charmille, who raised her eyes, looked at Batis. As if wondering when she had been in despair, Charmille smiled as usual.

"I know I shouldn't attend. No one knows what might happen there... I absolutely won't go, so don't worry."

Though Charmille smiled brightly and made her promise, Batis felt no relief. Instead, his expression showed that something was wrong. From Charmille, who smiled with such a composed face, he could glimpse the unhappy shadow of the princess who had spent her entire life trapped in a tower.

What had made Charmille force herself to smile? Batis knew what it was while keeping his mouth shut. He couldn't send Charmille to the feast. The feast was fraught with obvious dangers.

"Finish eating. You have to go on night patrol too."

Charmille, who escaped from Batis's embrace, pulled the dining table that had been pushed aside toward them. Charmille quickly put the utensils in Batis's hands, telling him to eat more.

"There won't be suspicious people appearing at the border like last time, right? There shouldn't be..."

Charmille chattered in a voice no different from usual. Batis anxiously watched that face. His heart felt unsettled like watching a broken branch swaying in the wind.