Chapter 21: When Everything Is Done

“What on earth is going on?”

Watching the prince walk away with a dazed expression, Werhe approaches Frennila, asking what could have possibly happened in such a short time.

“…Nila, I have to ask, you didn’t hug the prince like you did with me, did you? Hey, I can handle it because I’m used to it, but with your strength, an ordinary person would be done for!”

“I don’t do that with anyone but you! …It’s just, I couldn’t find the right moment to hold the prince’s hand. So I just lightly hugged him from behind.”

“…Hmm.”

Ah, so she doesn’t do that with anyone else. 

What a heavy friendship.

Nila, both in words and expression, vehemently protests her innocence, looking genuinely wronged.

At this point, Werhe is unsure how to process the situation.

Frennila mentioned she lightly hugged him from behind, but to Werhe, it only conjures images of an assassin grabbing their target from behind and snapping their neck.

Still, she’s protesting so vehemently, should he believe her or not? 

But is it normal for someone to react like that from just a light hug from behind?

The prince, showing signs of hyperventilation, is approached by the saintess and Svioha. 

Watching the prince quickly recover under their care, Werhe soon locks eyes with Svioha, who is looking his way.

She gives a slight nod, sending a silent signal.

A signal only meant for him. 

Why is she signaling only him?

“Nila, it’s probably nothing serious. So don’t overthink it or blame yourself, okay?”

After patting Frennila on the back a few times, Werhe stands up.

He follows Svioha, who has already moved to a different spot.

*

Arriving at Svioha’s quarters after following her.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

Though he’s heard of her, they’ve never formally met, and Werhe isn’t particularly interested in a long conversation.

“Straight to the point, I prefer that too.”

Svioha seems to share his sentiment. 

They might get along better than expected, he thinks.

As Svioha crosses her arms and gets straight to the point, Werhe’s gaze inadvertently drifts to her ample chest. 

…Maybe they won’t get along after all.

“Frennila, how much do you know about the relationship between that girl and the prince?”

“…Oh? Straight to the heart of the matter, huh? I know they’re close. I’m also aware of your attempts to meddle in their relationship.”

“Meddle, you say? If you don’t know the full story, it might seem that way.”

Svioha chuckles lightly, then pauses to choose her words carefully.

“Frennila and the prince, they need to be separated.”

“What nonsense are you spouting now?”

He thought she was going to say something serious, but this is just absurd.

Does she not know the relationship between Nila and him? 

How can she say such things?

As a priestess of Tengri, she often spouts strange prophecies, but Werhe isn’t about to let this slide.

“Have you heard of the Khan?”

“Enough with the Khan and your nonsense. Get back to the point.”

“It’s all connected. The Khan is the focal point and future king prophesied by Tengri to lead us nomads through crisis.”

“….”

Regardless of Werhe’s expression, Svioha continues.

“In the near future, Frennila will kill the prince, no, Kenneth, who is destined to be the Khan.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Seriously!”

The conversation is becoming increasingly hard to follow.

Separate the two? 

The Khan’s destiny? 

Nila killing the prince? 

At this point, Werhe wonders if Svioha is just messing with him.

The prince, who has given everything and followed Nila to the ends of the earth, and Nila would try to kill him?

The Nila he knows isn’t capable of such betrayal. 

That gentle girl wouldn’t do such a thing.

And after all the heartfelt moments between them…

‘Heartfelt… really?’

Though he hasn’t seen them much lately, Werhe prides himself on his observational skills.

The relationship between the two has always seemed a bit off.

It’s more like one-sided affection. 

Nila is always anxious and troubled by love, while the prince treats her in a stiff, businesslike manner.

Is this how someone who confessed their love first should react?

Once the doubt sets in, it starts to multiply.

“The future is changing, but the outcome remains the same.”

“Changing?”

“Yes, the manner in which she kills the Khan changes. One time she throws him into boiling water, another she buries him alive, or makes him die vomiting blood.”

Through shared rituals with Rii under the guise of treating the prince, Svioha has seen fragments of different futures.

In one, Frennila buries the prince alive; in another, she coldly watches him die vomiting blood.

The future changes, but the common thread is Frennila killing the prince.

“…If the future is changing, doesn’t that mean it could change for the better?”

“Perhaps, but so far, only the method changes, not the outcome. As a priestess of Tengri, it’s my duty to protect the Khan from danger. That’s why I’m telling you this.”

“….”

This is a heavy burden.

As a priestess of Tengri, many find her eerie and frightening, yet they can’t dismiss her.

Her ominous prophecies often come true, which is why people both revere and fear her.

So, it’s hard to simply brush off her words.

Intellectually, he understands. 

But emotionally, it’s hard to accept.

His heart leans more towards supporting his friend’s love than believing in myths about the Khan and prophecies of doom.

“Why not just tell the involved parties what you’ve seen from the start?”

“…Ah, well, revealing divine secrets to the involved parties is generally forbidden.”

Svioha hesitates for a moment.

In truth, it’s less about divine secrets and more about her guilt over secretly peeking into the prince’s consciousness.

Werhe, unaware of the intricacies of the doctrine, simply accepted her explanation.

“So, you’re asking for my cooperation? Sorry, but I’m not interested.”

“That’s a shame. Just knowing is enough, I suppose.”

“….”

Then why tell me? This is just frustrating. 

My head hurts, and I don’t know what to say.

Werhe is torn between continuing to support his friend’s tragic love or siding with saving the tribe’s benefactor.

‘Huh?’

Amidst the heavy conversation, he suddenly feels like someone is eavesdropping outside.

‘Could it be?’

Probably not.

Flap.

Just in case, he quickly moves to check outside, but there’s no sign of anyone.

‘Was I imagining it?’

He didn’t sleep well after swinging axes all day, and the shocking conversation has left him feeling off.

“I understand what you’re saying. I’ll need some time to think about it.”

“Please do. I hope you bring good news.”

With an uneasy feeling, Werhe leaves her quarters, lost in thought about what to do next.

*

Another bout of hyperventilation.

During the conversation, she suddenly stood up and hugged me from behind. 

I remember that much.

Though I didn’t faint this time, the strange symptoms returned, startling everyone present. 

Frennila’s expression was particularly shocking.

‘I need to explain this somehow.’

This is the second time. 

She must be suspicious of my condition by now.

I take a handful of the nearly depleted Bosimdan and swallow it.

As expected, the effects quickly spread through my body.

Feeling the tension leave my body, I head straight to Frennila’s quarters.

“Frennila, it’s Kenneth.”

I call out her name at the entrance, but there’s no response.

The guard nearby tells me she’s inside. 

Does that mean she doesn’t want to talk?

“…I’ll come back later when you’re ready.”

“Prince.”

As I turn to leave, Frennila’s voice, usually cheerful, now sounds subdued.

When she appears, she looks much darker and haggard than just a few hours ago.

Seeing her like this fills me with guilt and worry.

I can’t put it off any longer. 

I need to muster some courage.

With trembling steps, I stand before her.

I know why she craves physical contact. 

But I can’t fulfill her wishes.

Clenching my teeth, I prepare myself. 

Suppressing the trembling, I reach out and gently pat her head.

“I’m sorry.”

“….”

I fight the nausea rising in my throat.

Despite my poor condition, she doesn’t ask what’s wrong. 

She just stands there, silent.

Unmoving, as if trying to savor the sensation of my hand on her head.

When I stop and lower my arm, her expression seems to brighten slightly.

I sigh in relief, and her gaze, which had been fixed on the ground, now meets mine directly.

“…I won’t ask now. But promise me one thing. When everything is over, tell me everything, without hiding anything.”

“Everything, you say.”

Has she figured something out? 

I’ve never disclosed my exact condition to anyone.

Perhaps her animalistic senses have picked up on something.

“When everything is over, I mean. …Yes.”

When everything is over, whenever that may be. 

I nod calmly and make the promise.

“I’m looking forward to the Cheonhoje Festival.”

“I’ll make sure to show you good results.”

After the conversation, the two of us stand in silence, gazing into each other’s eyes.