[IHTTMBW] Chapter 49

The King of Crothasone, Ekild,  sat slouched on his throne, drinking.  

The butterfly dust.

The cursed daughter of that cursed woman had cursed eyes, the man thought. Her eyes, staring straight at him, seemed to speak of that day.  

"I love you."  

The woman had said in the sweet voice he had once loved. Even as her lips turned blue from the rain, she had smiled proudly.  

Her violet eyes, filled with endless love, gently caressed her belly. Her eyes curved softly, as if sharing a part of that smile with him.  

The man took another gulp, feeling the pain in his throat and head.  

He should have killed her long ago, but he couldn’t. He had declared to the world that he loved her, and the child was hers.  

‘But not yours.’  

Damn it.  

Yes, the woman in his mind still haunted him like the butterfly dust he couldn’t shake off.  

He thought it would be fine as long as he didn’t look at the child. So, he ignored her, and that led to natural neglect. Yet he thought that was better.  

Because he hated her.  

‘That man.’  

The woman had a victorious smile on her lips.  

Even in her pale, dying face, only her eyes shone brightly. In front of him, she always had those dying eyes.  

‘This is my victory. I’m so weak, I may not survive giving birth to this child.’  

Her beautiful silver hair had been soaked from the rain.  

The man remembered a time when he had gone against her will and stroked her hair.  

He should never have brought her here. She had loved someone else.  

But what did that matter?  

Wasn’t he the king? Whatever he wanted, he would take.  

To him, that was what it meant to be a king. And since he was king, he had to win.  

‘But the child will grow up in your hands. You’re too proud to reveal your wife’s affair.’  

One woman had dared to defy him, giving the king a lifelong shame.  

He could never speak of it, even if others whispered about it. He could never admit it as the truth.  

The woman had tilted her head back, staring intently at the rain-soaked sky. Even in her pregnant state, she didn’t fear the rain. They both knew she didn’t have long to live.  

‘You can’t kill me.’  

It was true.  

He wanted to snarl and lock her away in a tower, have doctors examine her.  

**Witch.**  

To him, she was like a witch. He had desperately craved her love, but he couldn’t get even a single crumb.  

And she had stared right at him.  

‘So, I’ll die for you.’  

It was like a stab at him.  

But the woman had smiled, as if she had won, as if her revenge was complete, and laughed in relief. The king’s forest was filled with her laughter, drowning out the sound of the rain.  

It was the last time he had seen her laugh.  

And the King of Crothasone, Ekild—father to three children, yet father to no one—had gained his last child. A girl with the same violet eyes as the woman, but with silver hair tainted by impurity, as if to prove her illegitimacy.  

The child’s mere existence was a denial of him.  

The king hated her silver hair streaked with pink. But if she lived as if she were dead, there would be no need to kill her. It would feel like killing the woman herself. And then the woman would smile at him with a second victorious smile.  

But the child was right.  

A butterfly doesn’t just die—it leaves behind its dust.  

King Ekild’s eyes gleamed coldly.  

In this palace, he had no need for anyone who wasn’t his subject.  

"One, two!"  

“Stand properly, straighten your back!”  

“Good, swing down while turning halfway!”  

Pant, pant.  

Whoever said learning the sword would be fun? This was exhausting.  

“I’m only ten years old!”  

“I did this when I was ten too. You’re smart, you know that.”  

I couldn’t argue with that.  

But he didn’t seem to realise that being smart and having good coordination were completely different things.  

I was currently training hard in swordsmanship, while Gelbart seemed content watching Euphil instruct me, almost as if he wanted to see his pupil teach someone else.  

It was said that by watching someone else teach, you could see what they prioritised and gauge their skill level. So, in a way, Euphil was training himself while teaching me.  

‘See? He really is planning to use me as a sparring partner and kill me!’  

I screamed inwardly. My goal was just to do some light exercise, stay slim, and eat as many desserts as I wanted.  

‘No, no, that’s not my real goal.’  

Yes, I might seem like I’m rambling, but my real goal was to survive from the age of nineteen to sixty.  

In truth, I was diligently committing to sword training. Who knew—this might save my life someday. If I relied too much on Euphil, I wouldn’t be able to live on my own without him. That’s why I was training hard.  

Honestly, I was also curious about swordsmanship because Euphil’s movements were so graceful.  

“Alright, break time!”  

Allenan came over with a cold drink and wiped my sweat.  

“You’re taking too many breaks.”  

“Myrthi is only ten. And she’s not a prince.”  

Allenan’s words were so spot on that I threw myself into his arms. As his face turned red, Euphil’s face twisted in displeasure.  

“You can rest, but let go of her.”  

“Seriously…?”  

“Only her brother gets to do that.”