Chapter 135
Chapter 135: Vicky (Last Part)
***
The night was still and desolate.
Only candlelight tonight, no moonlight in sight.
A breathtaking beauty floated in midair, face turned skyward, drifting quietly through the pitch-black ink of night, as if lost in a dream.
Only occasionally raising her arm, pale and smooth as a lotus root, to lift the wine glass to her lips.
Her head full of golden hair billowed and swirled with the light fabric of her clothes, opening and closing like rolling clouds in the breeze. That utterly languid posture, that flawless profile, it made the entire row of brightly lit buildings lining the street behind her look like nothing more than a painted backdrop.
In this moment, Victoria looked just like a butterfly dancing gracefully through a warm spring day.
Or perhaps, a corpse sinking into the depths of the ocean, ten thousand fathoms below.
"Hmm... hmm hmm~"
She hummed softly to a familiar tune, and the wine bottle clutched loosely in her naturally hanging left hand was already nearly empty.
I set the plate of Captain Grey onto the round table and furrowed my brow, tiptoeing over to the edge of the balcony railing. I parted the flowering vines blocking my view, and a gentle breeze brushed across my face.
Victoria didn't seem to notice me approaching, or perhaps she simply didn't care. She brought the wine to her mouth again.
I narrowed my eyes, tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and called out to her softly: "Come down."
I thought for a moment and added: "You've been drinking. It's dangerous up there."
I waited for a bit, but Victoria still didn't respond.
She didn't even turn her head.
That made me a little annoyed. I scrunched up my little nose, touched a finger to my lips, and began nibbling at my nail, thinking about what to say next.
Dinner's ready!
...Yeah, no. Obviously not.
Fire! Fire!
...That's just stupid.
Maybe I should just find a rock and throw it at her...
So I bent down and started scanning the ground for a small stone I could use. Right at that moment, Victoria finally spoke.
"They say... that's how my father died."
Her voice flowed like water into my ears, her tone as cold and emotionless as ever, but the words she stated so plainly made my heart sink.
Victoria's father. The previous king of Isenbell. He was already gone...
I looked up at her again, and for a moment I had no idea what expression to put on my face.
...But I figured she didn't need me to put on any particular expression. And she didn't need something hollow like "my condolences" either.
Victoria still hadn't turned to look at me. She continued speaking, almost like she was murmuring to herself.
"One hunting trip. My mother went along, and my uncle, and Duke Rexus. Father had drunk too much and flew up into the sky despite everyone begging him not to. Before long he lost his senses and fell. Died from the fall. People privately mocked him behind closed doors as 'the king who broke his wings.' I was 14 that year."
"I didn't believe it. So I snuck a bottle from the wine cellar, pinched my nose, and drank every last drop. Not a single drop left... that was the first time I ever drank. I got completely, utterly drunk. And when I was drunk I felt happy. I flew up in front of my mother, in front of my uncle, flew all over the royal city. I wanted to prove to everyone that even drunk, I would never fall."
"They all thought I'd gone mad."
The night breeze seemed to pick up a little more than before.
I held the unopened wine bottle to my chest and leaned forward against the iron railing, lifting my head, listening quietly as Victoria told me about her past.
"After that, Mother ordered me locked in the tower. A full year. She had the windows sealed shut, forbade anyone from speaking to me. There was nothing to do. The only company I had was wine... From then on I always drank. When I got drunk, I'd fly up into the sky. Back then I'd feel like the whole world was nothing but blue sky and white clouds. So clear."
She spoke slowly, her tone utterly calm.
So calm that I didn't know what to do with myself.
Sadness?
Sympathy?
Pity?
That slender, graceful silhouette suspended in the air, she needed none of those things.
If she hadn't drunk far too much tonight, she probably wouldn't have said any of this at all.
And yet I felt sad.
I wanted to say something.
I had to say something. Anything, just to respond to her.
But after hesitating for a long time, all I managed was a dry, hollow: "So... do you want to, find out the truth now?"
"...The truth?"
Victoria echoed back with a question.
"That doesn't matter. Whether it was the Clive family, my uncle, or my mother who killed my father... even if I knew the answer, what difference would it make."
The words get revenge spun around on the tip of my tongue and never made it out.
I was afraid she'd think I was being naive.
Because I understood. Victoria's position meant she could never simply do whatever she wanted, she could never live that kind of life where you act on your feelings, bold and free, doing whatever your heart demands.
"My truth never existed to begin with. Knowing or not knowing changes nothing about what I intend to do. My enemies remain my enemies."
"Many people call me Black Mandala. Do you know why?"
I didn't want to know why.
It was surely nothing that would make anyone feel good.
"Come down," I said, my voice filled with worry.
Victoria still paid me no mind.
"I envy you, Peylo. You said today that spending time on things you love makes you happy. That eating something you love makes you happy... that kind of feeling must be such a wonderful thing."
She took the last sip of wine, then raised the empty bottle to eye level and stared into it, lost in thought.
"This wine... it's getting harder and harder to get drunk on."
But you're already drunk.
"You're done with it, so come down now," I said again.
Victoria finally turned her head toward me.
Her cheeks were flushed with the warm rose of intoxication. Her eyes, slightly unfocused, caught the light deep within, and looking into them made me feel a little drunk too.
"Give me the wine," she said.
I shook my head immediately.
"No."
Then I pulled the bottle tighter into my arms, afraid she might pull out some strange trick or skill and snatch it away from me while I wasn't paying attention.
"Come down and get it yourself."
Victoria stared at me for a long, long moment, a faint crease between her brows.
It looked like the corner of her mouth moved...
Before I could figure out if that was real or just my imagination, her body finally shifted.
Whoosh—
Her graceful figure, carried by the soft murmur of the wind, descended slowly until she stood before me.
In that instant I thought of the fairies in myths and legends, those who moved like startled wild geese, or swayed like graceful dragons through water, and I blanked out for a moment.
Then came the intoxicating warmth that washed over me, wrapping me in the scent of wine.
"Give it to me."
Victoria's voice sounded right at my ear, her breath like the faint fragrance of orchids.
I threw my arms around her.
I held on tight. My pale arms reached around her slender, barely-there waist and locked together behind her back, fingers interlaced, my face pressed into her soft and delicate part.
The tip of my nose was filled with rich, warm sweetness.
This woman... she looks so slender. Didn't expect her to be so... well-endowed.
That thought vanished as quickly as it came. I pressed my face against her and said in a muffled voice: "I'll give you the wine, but... you can't fly back up there."
"Let go," Victoria murmured.
"No."
"Let go."
"No!"
I shook my head stubbornly, though honestly I was also just enjoying the excuse to stay like this a little longer... it was really comfortable.
"Not until you promise you won't fly up."
"I promise."
Victoria answered immediately, fast enough that I suspected she was just saying it to get me off her.
"...Really?"
"Mm."
"You're the Queen. You have to keep your word."
"Mm."
Only then did I slowly let go, and handed her the bottle of wine, which I'd practically warmed to body temperature by then.
True to her word, Victoria didn't fly back up.
She took the bottle, swaying slightly as she walked to the round table, and settled into the reclining chair without bothering about the fine dust scattered across it.
Pop— the cork went flying.
"Living doesn't feel like much, but I'm not ready to die yet. If I died, it would only delight certain people." Victoria poured wine into the tall glass and spoke to me at the same time. "Isenbell is a beautiful country. I don't want to see it ruined someday by the hands of people who think too highly of themselves."
She downed what she'd just poured in one go, then looked up at me, expression blank: "Would you like some?"
"...I don't drink."
I admitted it without a hint of shame.
Not that I was happy about it... but after 2 hard lessons, I'd come to fully accept the depressing reality of my own alcohol tolerance.
"Is that so." Victoria gave a small nod. "What a shame."
I pulled out the chair across from her, untied the handkerchief from my left wrist, wiped the seat carefully, and then sat down.
My eyes drifted to the plate of Captain Grey.
...I couldn't drink anymore, but I could still eat.
I immediately reached out and grabbed one, bit into it and chewed slowly, then grabbed another and held it out toward Victoria.
"These are, really good."
She'd barely eaten anything at dinner and had spent the whole time drinking on an empty stomach... she needed to eat something.
Victoria refused: "I don't eat sweets."
I tilted my head and thought for a moment, then broke off the part of the Captain Grey that was thickly coated in honey syrup and went "nom", popping it into my own mouth. Then I held out what was left, just the plain cake part, to her again.
"There. Not sweet anymore."
Victoria looked at me, then at the piece of cake in my hand, and said with a hint of hesitation: "You picked that up off the ground, didn't you."
Uh...
She caught me.
My face went a little warm, and I started to pull my hand back, but Victoria reached out and took it anyway.
"The way you broke it is so ugly..."
She said that, yet peeled off a small piece with elegant fingers, placed it in her mouth, chewed carefully, and slowly swallowed.
A faint furrow crossed her pretty brows.
"...Still sweet."
But her hands didn't stop moving, she kept eating, one small bite at a time.
She really did drink way too much tonight.
"Hehe."
A happy laugh escaped me.
Not long after, a servant brought the dishes up. Still very plain, simple food, but my appetite stirred with excitement anyway.
"You ate mine, so let me try some of yours!"
Without waiting for her answer, I speared a slice of beetroot with my fork and ate it.
...The flavor was a little mild, but much better than I'd expected.
"You should eat more vegetables."
"Mm-mm."
No need for her to tell me, I was already eating fast.
But Victoria set down her knife and fork after just a few bites and started pouring herself more wine again.
I stopped eating, tilted my head, and thought for a moment.
"Victoria."
"Mm?"
"I have an older sister. She really admired you. She thought you were incredible, a great hero."
"She doesn't know me."
"Maybe... she definitely didn't know, you were such a drunk."
"You can tell her."
"No need." I shook my head. "She can see for herself, right now."
"Where is she?"
I raised my slender finger and pointed upward.
"Up there, in the sky."
The night sky was full of stars, blinking and shimmering.
"So, stop drinking, and let's sing instead."
"Sing what?"
"That song you sang, that one night. It was so beautiful. Teach it to me."
"...Alright."
And not long after.
In a night without moonlight, from the small balcony of the mansion, a beautiful melody drifted out into the dark.
"Take me... up to the moon..."
"Let me sing... forever..."
"I want to break free from this mortal cage... to play among the stars to my heart's content... where no one will ever find me..."
"Where no one will..."