[Episode 124] - Show me the one I love.
-Hah...!
Along with Ainsel's astonished gasp, the figures of Katarina and Vivian reflected in the mirror vanished in an instant. It was because Ainsel had immediately cut the connection with her clone.
Ainsel had never intended to show Vivian in such a state. She had merely planned to observe from afar how Vivian was faring. She felt sorry for Vivian, but...
'Because the Princess misses Vivian so very much.'
Ever since Vivian disappeared, Titania had missed her terribly and suffered greatly. So, she had thought that if she showed her Vivian alive, perhaps she might regain a little strength.
That had been all she'd intended, and yet...
"Ha..."
The corners of Titania's mouth, which had been watching Vivian's figure, crumpled, and soon she held a bitter sneer. Rising from her seat with that bitter smile, Titania slowly approached Ainsel.
"Why? Aren't you going to show me any more?"
"I-I, t-that is... this is..."
Ainsel fidgeted, rolling her eyes to avoid Titania's gaze. The closer Titania drew, the more Ainsel's face crumpled as if she would cry, and she shook her head vehemently, but it was no use.
"Ainsel."
Having approached Ainsel, Titania gripped the mirror's frame tightly. As creaking sounds rang out and the frame twisted, Ainsel looked at Titania as though she were truly about to burst into tears.
Gazing at such a Titania, Ainsel felt as though she were looking at a different person. Feeling that this was not the Princess she had known until now, she trembled, on the verge of tears. After all, everything was a first.
The voice calling her, cold as a block of ice; the expression of cold fury she had never seen before; the voice so resolute and ruthless—all of these were things she was feeling from Titania for the first time in the more than ten years they had been together.
"Show me Mother."
"A-ah..."
In the end, Ainsel lowered her head and began to show Vivian again. The mirror blurred, and then the figures of Vivian and Katarina appeared in the large mirror once more. The sight of the two people embracing each other.
Titania narrowed her eyes and gazed calmly at that sight. Her mother, sniffling and crying somewhere unknown, and a nameless woman embracing and comforting such a mother.
The nameless woman reflected in the mirror stroked her tightly embraced mother's head and continued speaking words Titania could not understand. Truly, Titania could not comprehend their conversation.
'I-It's alright... Surely, that child will understand you too...'
'Will she...?'
Titania swept her hand down the mirror and gave a bitter smile. Understand? Understand what? Just what was she supposed to understand? That Mother was suffering after leaving her side, and that she should understand that?
Was she supposed to understand the sight of her nestled in another woman's arms, receiving tender comfort? That it couldn't be helped because she was in agony after leaving me? So I should understand?
If she was going to be in such agony, she shouldn't have left.
If she was going to be so lonely, she should have stayed by my side.
Thinking alone, deciding alone, leaving my side without a word, and now she even wants me to understand that? What exactly am I supposed to understand? You didn't say a single word to me.
Just that it was a promise. That it was already decided. That you were sorry. If you left me with only those words, how was I supposed to understand? Did you think I'd just nod and understand after leaving behind a single letter?
No, I can never understand. I don't even want to. If you truly left thinking of me, you shouldn't have left like this. No, you shouldn't have left my side at all. You should have stayed with me no matter what.
"...What in the world should I do?"
A faint dampness clung to Titania's voice. Soon, her shoulders trembled, and she clenched her fist, glaring at her mother reflected in the mirror. What in the world was she supposed to do with that person?
She had left on her own whim, yet suffered alone; she wallowed in loneliness on her own whim; she grieved alone on her own whim—all while receiving comfort from a woman who wasn't me. What was I supposed to do for that person?
A nail she had been gnawing on with a crunch cracked halfway.
"...I'll have to bring her here first."
Yes, she had to bring her here first. And she had to make her understand. That all the things she thought were wrong. That if she truly cared for her, she had to remain here and support her.
That the only place she belonged was here.
That the only one who could comfort her was me.
That the only one who could comfort me was her.
So, she must stay by my side for the rest of her life.
She had to make her understand, even if it meant capturing and binding her.
To capture her, who would slip through her fingers like sand and flee if she drew near, she had no choice but to bind her in this place, sealed tight like a glass bottle. Because otherwise, she would run away again.
That couldn't happen. Absolutely not.
She might permit it twice, but she wouldn't forgive a third time.
Truly, the wicked thoughts wouldn't stop. She had contemplated sending someone to kidnap her mother right then, but she felt that then, too, she would flee from her side. However, there were all kinds of ways to capture her mother.
She had already thought of more than five methods. The worst among them was to publicly brand her mother as a witch. Sending letters throughout the kingdom announcing that 'Vivian Liliensol' was a witch.
Fortunately—or perhaps it was fortunate—this kingdom still retained a culture of shunning and loathing 'witches'. The temple was still voicing the need to find and apprehend witches.
If her mother were declared a witch, she would surely be captured in no time. If her mother was betrayed by those she trusted and captured, Titania could bring her back to the royal palace, deceive everyone into thinking she had been executed, and secretly hide her in a room. That would be all.
Then her mother wouldn't be able to go anywhere.
Socially, it would be no different from already being dead. She would have to live the rest of her life protected by my side. Just imagining it, the sweetness of being able to spend her entire life with the one she loved seemed to linger on her tongue.
But...
'...Because then, Mother would be sad.'
Because then her mother would be sad, and suffer.
She didn't want to see her mother suffering.
Titania neatly folded away her wicked thoughts and let out a small sigh. Her mother kept running away to the point where such wicked thoughts entered her mind. Didn't that mean she was that desperate?
She longed to see her mother, to meet her, to love her—to the point that if she couldn't, she wanted to make it so her mother couldn't live without her.
Titania swept her hand across the mirror reflecting the crying Vivian, and formed a bright smile.
'So... I'll only bind you.'
So that you can't run away from my side.
*
Knock, knock—
At the sound of knocking on the door, Titania turned her head toward the source.
"Princess. It's Baengsyo. May I enter?"
"Come in."
At Titania's permission, the door opened and Baengsyo walked into the room with a dark expression. Then, slowly approaching Titania, they continued speaking while looking at the wounds on both of her scraped knees.
"...Does it hurt?"
"Not really."
Titania replied flatly, bending and straightening her wounded knee repeatedly. It wasn't that it didn't hurt, but compared to the wound her mother had given her, this was nothing.
Baengsyo knelt and looked at Titania's wound.
Perhaps because the maids had treated it properly, the knee wrapped in bandages looked fine on the outside. According to the maid who had treated it, if they continued treatment like this, no scar would remain.
"So? Why are you here?"
"I heard that you were greatly injured, Princess...."
"...It's nothing."
At Titania's cold tone, Baengsyo made a bitter expression. About eight months had passed since Titania, having graduated from the Academy, arrived at the royal palace.
The season had been spring when Titania arrived, but it had already passed through summer and autumn, becoming the winter before spring returned. The cold late winter when snowstorms poured down.
Spring would certainly arrive soon, but for some reason, Baengsyo felt as though this winter would continue forever. That was how cold Titania's demeanor felt.
Letting out a small sigh, Titania turned her head, sat at her dressing table, and looked into the mirror. Then, combing her hair that fell to her waist, she asked Baengsyo,
"Baengsyo. How much time remains until my coronation?"
"Yes? Ah... it's next autumn, so... less than a year remains. But the other nobles are arguing to move it up to next spring—"
"The coronation will not be moved up. Tell the other ministers that it will proceed as decided, next autumn."
"But..."
The moment Baengsyo tried to continue, they could say nothing at the look in Titania's eyes reflected in the mirror. Thinking that the Princess would not listen no matter what more they said, Baengsyo sighed and nodded.
"...Yes, I will relay that to the other ministers."
"Good."
Titania looked at her reflection in the mirror, gathered her long hair into one bundle, and gazed at the ends reaching her back.
Every morning, the first thing upon waking was the long hair her mother had combed for her. The black hair like ebony that her mother had always said was as beautiful as silk.
Because the mornings spent with her mother were so happy, Titania took time to groom her hair every day. Even after going to the Academy, she had tried not to damage it.
Wanting to be praised by her mother every morning, she had grown her hair out, hoping the time her mother spent on her would grow longer.
But...
"...There's no one to praise me anymore."
"Yes?"
Titania pulled a pair of scissors from the drawer and snipped off the gathered hair in one cut. The severed black locks fell to the floor in a cascade.
"Princess Titania...?! What in the world are you—!!"
Baengsyo cried out in shock from behind, but Titania paid no mind. Looking at her hair, now cut to shoulder length in an instant, Titania steeled her resolve.
The resolve to bring her mother here before the coronation. The resolve that if she fled again this time, she would drag her back by force even if it meant becoming a wicked daughter.
She steeled her resolve for the final year.