Chapter 29: The Weight of an Unseen Goddess

“Goddess.”

Thanks to the divine power Mitchel had summoned, I was able to meet the Goddess for the first time in a long while. The Imperial Palace, under the Dragon’s protection, wasn’t exactly an ideal place for her to manifest, so I had never seen her here before. But this time, perhaps because Mitchel had directly channeled her essence, she maintained her form perfectly.

[Child, have you been well?]

“Uh… well, Goddess, things have become rather… complicated this time, and I’m quite flustered…”

[I felt I had to visit you once in person to see how you were doing.]

The Goddess wore her usual benevolent smile. In this space of the subconscious where only she and I existed, a thick violet mist lay low across the ground. I let my body sink into the plush fog and sat down comfortably.

“Was all of this… part of your plan too?”

[Yes. I am sorry for causing such a commotion.]

“I’m alright, but I hate that it makes the others suffer.”

The Goddess simply smiled, stepped forward slowly, and pulled me into a tight embrace.

[I had a feeling that if I summoned you to the Temple again, you might not be accompanied by the Child of the Dragon. I thought it better that I come to you instead.]

“The Child of the Dragon? Do you mean Felix?”

Knowing Felix could never enter this space, I felt comfortable speaking his name freely.

[Yes. The child by your side.]

“Are you saying that when I go to the Temple, I must go with Felix?”

I tilted my head, unable to grasp her meaning. The Goddess let out a small, melodic laugh.

[No, that isn’t it. Child, you will understand when the time comes. As you know, this is a world made for you.]

She whispered as she tightened her embrace once more, ignoring my continued confusion.

[I came because I was worried, but it seems you are faring well enough for now.]

Trapped in her arms, I looked up at her. Since we were both sitting, I could only manage to wrap my arms around her waist.

[I hope you don’t try to think too much. You must let things flow as they will.]

The Goddess leaned down to meet my eyes and gave a soft, knowing smile.

[Do not try to remember too much. Everything will happen as it must.]

She gently exhaled a breath toward my eyes—poof. I blinked reflexively. When I opened them again, I was back in the softness of my own bed.

“Ian!”

Startled by hands cupping my cheeks, I opened my eyes to see Mitchel. Feeling incredibly awkward, I managed a clumsy smile and a greeting.

“…Mitchel.”

Mitchel’s eyes were glistening as if he had been crying. If I could have, I would have put my hand to my forehead in frustration. Every time the Goddess visited, she left me with fresh trials and tribulations. Seriously, Goddess! I grumbled internally, but as usual, she had departed without looking back, and there was no answer.

I felt the usual heavy lethargy that followed a meeting with her spreading through my limbs. I wanted to comfort Mitchel, but I couldn’t even lift my arm.

“Wait, just a moment… like usual, yes, like usual…”

“…”

“A typical seizure… It’s lucky I happened to be at the palace today…”

Mitchel babbled incoherently, saying things no one would believe. Just as everyone had done for the past two months, he seemed determined not to tell me any bad news. It was a desperate excuse, so obvious that it made me feel pitiful for knowing it was a lie.

I wanted to say something in response, but I had no words, so I just let my lips part and close silently.

“Shh. I think it’s best if you save your strength for now.”

I closed my eyes, listening to Mitchel’s gentle voice. I think I smiled a little—an attempt to get Mitchel to relax because he seemed so stiff. Fortunately, the effort seemed to work, as I heard him let out a small, matching laugh.

“I’ll be going now. Rest well, Ian.”

Mitchel stayed by my side for a long time before finally brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead and leaving.

Once the door closed behind him, I waited a moment before peeking one eye open… and then immediately closed it again. Zeimer was sitting by the bed, glaring at me.

“What am I going to do with you?”

Actually, let me correct that. He wasn’t glaring; he was looking at me with an expression of agonizing desperation. I’m sorry… but I didn’t know things would escalate this much either. Everything was the Goddess’s will, not mine.

I was just as flustered by the scale of the commotion. It had grown so large that the conscience I had shoved into a corner of my heart was starting to ache.

“I’m sorry.”

I apologized to Zeimer with all my heart. I truly meant it.

“…Ha! Seriously, you! Why!”

Zeimer suddenly stood up and snapped. Realizing he had raised his voice, he sat back down and rubbed his face hard with both hands. His small face was completely hidden behind his palms. Even after he finished, he sat there for a long time with his hands over his face, the bridge of his nose creating a gap between his palms.

When he finally pulled his hands away, Zeimer looked as if he had aged a month in an hour. The shadows under his eyes had deepened, his hair was a mess, and above all, his eyes looked utterly exhausted.

“What exactly are you so sorry for?”

“No, it’s just…”

“What? Tell me. What exactly are you sorry for?”

“…”

“Don’t be sorry.”

Zeimer leaned his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his hand as he met my eyes. I-I’m sorry… Even my long-lost conscience felt a sharp sting in my chest.

“So, how is your body?”

After staring at me for a long time, Zeimer let out a sigh and asked. I tilted the corners of my mouth up in a nod, trying to show him I was fine. In response, Zeimer let out an even deeper sigh.

“Don’t smile. This isn’t the time for that.”

Though he was chiding me with words, his eyes were meticulously scanning me to see if I was truly alright. Feeling embarrassed by his worried gaze, I tried to sit up, but Zeimer recoiled in shock and pushed me back down. I haven’t even had breakfast yet… and besides, this whole mess happened because you barged in at dawn! I looked at him with an incredulous expression.

Zeimer looked like he had a lot to say. It was likely about that “heart” issue. Since the Goddess herself had intervened, it must have looked grave. But I stubbornly feigned ignorance, and Zeimer, seemingly deciding not to tell me, remained silent, though his eyes continued to project a profound unease.

“…It’s been a while since your last seizure, hasn’t it?”

Zeimer finally managed a faint smile and spoke softly. I forced down my discomfort, ignoring the way he was pretending everything was normal. Don’t think. I have to empty my head.

“I’m thirsty.”

With his help, I sat up. I gulped down some water and lay back down, turning toward Zeimer. Even after draining a full cup, my throat still felt parched.

“Zeimer.”

“Yeah.”

“I… want to sleep a little.”

I said it mostly to avoid him because I couldn’t bear to look at his face. I hoped he would leave quickly. But contrary to my expectation that he would tell me to rest and leave, Zeimer didn’t budge. Instead, he propped his chin on his hand and settled in as if he intended to stay indefinitely.

“Alright, sleep.”

“…Aren’t you going?”

“I’ll watch you fall asleep.”

“It’s uncomfortable.”

“I’m just anxious. Does your stomach feel okay?”

I nodded. Zeimer looked at me for a long moment before calling a servant to bring some warm honey water.

“Let’s have some of this before you sleep. You’ll ruin your stomach otherwise.”

When I shook my head in refusal, Zeimer insisted again. He looked bedraggled, still in his pajamas and robe. The shadows that had appeared under his eyes in just an hour only added to his haggard appearance.

I studied his face, sensing his mood. If I continued to face that blatant worry, the peace I was trying to maintain would crumble.

Taking the hint, I gave a small nod, and Zeimer carefully helped me up. I hesitated for a moment before reaching out my arms to him. I wanted to be held.

Zeimer understood and pulled me into a hug. His frame was a bit lean but solid. Since he was wearing soft pajamas instead of his usual scratchy clothes, the sensation was different. I lightly grasped the fabric of his calm, blue robe before letting go.

Zeimer had a fine, elegant bone structure. His fingers were straight and long, and the way he held the cup was as graceful as a marble statue. I was staring blankly at his hand, glowing white in the sunlight, when the sudden warmth of the cup against my lips startled me. I failed to swallow the honey water and ended up coughing it back out.

“Ian!”

Zeimer hurriedly set the cup down and grabbed a cloth. In my flustered state, I had reflexively wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, making everything sticky.

“Cough—”

Zeimer took a damp towel that was always kept nearby and meticulously wiped everything from my face to the spaces between my fingers. He could have easily done this with magic, but he seemed so shaken by previous events that he was being excessively careful with me.

“I’m sorry, did I startle you?”

I was the one who had spaced out and choked, yet Zeimer was the one apologizing. I quickly pulled myself together and shook my head. I opened my mouth to apologize for being dazed, but only a cough came out, so I shut it again.

After having me drink a few sips of plain water, Zeimer fed me the honey water again. Only then did he set the cup aside with a somewhat satisfied expression. I reached out and grabbed his robe, burying my face in the fabric. Since it was early morning, I caught a whiff of Zeimer’s own scent rather than the usual smell of old books.

“I’m sorry.”

I apologized again, my conscience pricking me. Since my face was buried in his chest, I couldn’t see his expression, but judging by the way he stroked my hair, I assumed he understood.

I felt Zeimer’s lips brush against the top of my head. Just a few days ago, he’d joked that my hair smelled. Feeling a bit indignant, I tried to lift my head to argue, but it was impossible; the hand not supporting my back was cupping the back of my head, holding me firmly in place. I was forced to mumble against his chest.

“Zeimer.”

“What.”

“I don’t hurt at all.”

Whether it was because I was faking a recovery or because the situation had become so large, I told Zeimer a truth that sounded like an excuse. I felt I had to let him know.

“Right. You don’t hurt at all.”

For once, Zeimer agreed with me. But I knew he didn’t believe a word of it. I knew because he immediately whispered the same thing again, as if trying to convince himself.

“You don’t hurt at all.”

I felt the arms holding me tighten just a little bit more.