Silver Lining Yesterday - Chapter 31
Although it is often overlooked due to her fleeing with Ernest Garland, it is undeniable that Jean Rohrbach held Gemma Heidegger in special regard.
The dear friend who had once been so precious was now playing along with blatant lies and had abandoned the spirit of the revolution.
She personally led Miranda Valentine, whom she had once called a life mentor, to the gallows and, over the past 23 years, became a corrupt ruler wielding uncontested power.
In truth, the Gemma Heidegger of today was no different from the pot-bellied king they had once despised.
“I get the gist of your feelings, but…”
Nix, crouching with his knees bent, tilted his head deeply and gazed into Jean’s face, which was buried in her arms.
“It’s time to stop.”
“……”
“I don’t know what kind of person you thought Gemma Heidegger was, but the Gemma you saw just yesterday is that devil. She may call herself the Duke and a Senator, but she’s nothing more than a king in this country now. Do you understand?”
In the dim shadow, her red eyes gleamed ominously.
“Jean Rohrbach, the Gemma Heidegger you knew is dead.”
A pale finger, barely visible through tangled hair, gripped her knee even tighter. From the trembling strands of her hair, one could feel her resolution to never raise her head.
Unable to bear it, Nix reached out forcefully, gripping her frail shoulders.
He roughly pulled her upright, desperately trying to meet her gaze.
“Listen, if you’ve heard me, then face reality! The reality you’re facing is brutal, and do you even know who you’re about to fight—”
“Let go!”
Jean thrashed wildly, her hair in disarray.
“Whether you hand me over to Lipton or throw me in the middle of the ocean, do whatever you want! Just leave me alone!”
“Are you kidding me? Do you know how I’ve searched for you all this time…!”
“Do you know how? What do you mean ‘do I know how’?”
Her ten fingers, stretched like webbed claws, grabbed his collar.
Her lifeless fingers, like those of a corpse crawling out of a grave, trembled uncontrollably.
“Why did you wake me up… You didn’t even want to find Ernie. You have no interest in him. Did you think I wouldn’t know?”
Her deep blue eyes, exposed through the tangled hair, shook dangerously.
“You don’t care about my crushed honor, and you’re not interested in the buried truth either. Gemma… Gemma didn’t even want me. So why did you wake me up? Why couldn’t you just let me wither away in time, why wake me up?”
The reality that confronted her was overwhelming.
The reality, which could have remained forever unknown, was awakened by the son of the friend who had betrayed her. She hated him.
His foolishness, dragging her to Gemma as if he was enjoying the moment, disgusted her unbearably.
“You wanted it, didn’t you? Gemma’s been hurt. She… she suffered horribly just looking at me. Isn’t that enough? What more do you want from me? How much more do you need to torment me before you’re satisfied?”
“―You started it!”
Nix growled fiercely, breathing heavily as he glared at her.
“The revolution, the dreams, the hope, all of it was started by you! You were the one who said that a thousand-year-old monarchy could fall, that a country without a king might come, that a world like that could exist! You’re the one who gave hope to those who had long given up!”
It had been an era where kings were inevitable.
When a king died, a new one would ascend, and the new king would be no different from the old, as history had taught.
But someone said, the king was not inevitable.
The reason that mere empty cries did not remain as whispers was because it was the voice of Jean Rohrbach.
The saintly qualities that had descended after centuries.
A candidate for the Sacred Throne, closely watched by the church, and a legendary wizard raised with great care by Riholm.
She, more than anyone, embodied the dignity of a ruler, and she had once again proclaimed it.
Soon, a country without a king would come.
“The hope you planted…”
The hand that had tightly gripped her shoulder now clutched her clothes with desperate intensity, as if clinging to her.
“People who had no courage heard your words and rose up. Every time they wanted to give up, they remembered your voice. You were the one who was great first. And so, we followed you, dedicating our lives, sacrificing everything… and now? You want to abandon us?”
“……”
“Is that really what you’re going to say now?”
The voice, spat out like venom, was laced with a faint trace of fury. From his boiling red eyes, the faint scars from past wounds became visible.
Jean, forcing her head up, vaguely looked at Nix’s wounded form.
As Nix, seemingly trying to calm the boiling rage inside him, took deep breaths, he looked as though he was struggling to suppress the storm of emotions.
His hands, which had repeatedly gripped her clothing, finally let go, leaving only a lingering sense of regret.
“Damn it…”
Nix swallowed the curse, roughly wiping his face as he stood up.
“Do whatever you want. I wonder what those fools who sacrificed their lives trusting you will say from the afterlife. Maybe you should think about how you’ll explain yourself to Miranda Valentine.”
With a cold step, Nix turned away.
Watching his retreating shadow, Jean instinctively reached out and grabbed his cloak.
“…How did she die?”
“……”
“Miranda, I mean. How did she die?”
Her voice, without of any pitch, crawled along the floor. Her face, collapsed and hidden behind her disheveled hair, was unseen.
Nix, giving her a reluctant glance, let out a deep sigh.
Hesitating, he wrapped his hand around his mouth before reluctantly letting his lips part.
“…Miranda Valentine was disabled.”
More precisely, she limped on her right leg.
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