Chapter 49 The first petal's fall thus touched and stopped at the heart...

"Andra—"

The piercing scream made everyone in the training ground look up at the same time.

—It's the Queen!

Upon seeing the moon-white figure clearly, many people instinctively moved away.

The queen's hairpins jingled and fell to the ground as she ran, and her magnificent shawl flew away to who knows where.

Eleanor's jet-black hair fluttered in the wind.

Her figure was so petite that even her angry, tearful eyes looked pitiful.

She held up her sword.

It wasn't until she was almost in front of Andra that everyone realized: Oh, the Queen is holding a sword.

Even at this point, they remained huddled to the side, motionless.

It wasn't fear of the Queen's sword, but rather a feeling of absurdity: how could someone—oh, an ordinary person—want to hurt King Andra?

This must be a game, a little bit of fun between the emperor and empress.

Andra's most intelligent adjutant stood by with his arms crossed, watching the show with a mocking expression.

Only the loyal Iron Guard opened his arms to try and stand between the two, but was instead patted on the shoulder and pushed aside by the King.

Wang didn't speak, but her slightly helpless smile made everyone understand completely, and they dispersed.

She reached to her waist, took off her sword, and tossed it aside so that she wouldn't accidentally bump into the person in her arms during the embrace.

Andra opened his arms to welcome his wife, who was charging at him with a sword raised.

It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the queen had never learned swordsmanship; her steps and posture were all wrong.

However, the moment she swung her sword down, everyone's eyes widened slightly: that sword strike was extremely decisive.

Whoosh—the sword strike, imbued with all her strength, produced a sound that cut through the air.

Andra did not dodge.

She simply raised her hand slightly and casually grasped Eleanor's wrist.

Crackling sound.

With a deft twist of her right hand, the sword came into Andra's grasp.

"What's wrong, Eleanor?"

She said gently, in a soothing tone, "Don't get angry and hurt yourself."

The instant Andra saw the sword clearly, he immediately knew where he had gone wrong.

She switched the sword to her left hand, smiled, and put her arm around her wife's waist, making a gesture to shoo away those around her as they embraced.

Hahaha.

The officials and attendants chuckled and left, leaving only a few iron guards who would never leave their posts to stand watch not far away.

"Let me go...!" Eleanor struggled desperately, but she was too weak and Andra still held her in her arms.

"Eleanor." The king called her name again, this time his voice was slightly cold: "Just say what you have to say, don't lose your temper."

Cough cough cough!

Eleanor coughed violently, choking out a thick, metallic taste of blood from deep in her throat.

She reached for the sword in Andra's hand, trembling as she cried out, "You're lying to me!! Myrcella is long dead—isn't that right?!"

Gesha.

This statement punctured the lie that Andra had been trying to maintain.

Wang curled her lips, no longer trying to hide her feelings in vain. She nodded helplessly: "Don't worry, she died on the battlefield as a warrior."

Andra released his grip, letting Eleanor punch his muscular body repeatedly, while gently explaining, "In a battle between two armies, too many people want to claim the credit for capturing the king."

She was telling a white lie.

After all, the truth is hard to say: What Myrcella? The King of Norlana did charge at her, but they didn't even exchange a single sword strike.

Andra was in the heat of battle and hadn't even had a chance to shout "Leave King Norlana behind" when he couldn't find Myrcella anywhere.

When the two met again, the other had become a mangled corpse on the battlefield.

Perhaps she accidentally overran her head and fell to the ground, or perhaps she was killed by a warrior. That princess was always very impulsive, who knows?

If Myrcella weren't Eleanor's sister, these little things wouldn't have mattered at all, and she wouldn't have cared about them for a second.

Even now, Andra doesn't see any problem.

She cherished the princess before her so much that she personally placed the crown symbolizing Anya, the future queen, on her head. They lingered together every comfortable night, and she promised to let her bear her first and last child.

...Eleanor's anger was only for the death of her blood sister; she would eventually move on from the past and become the best wife for her.

His wife looked up at him from his arms, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. "Ha...you've lied to me for so long. You've always wanted a child to control me, haven't you?"

Andra was silent for a moment, then gently wiped away the tears that wouldn't stop flowing from the corners of her eyes with her right hand, and said softly, "Don't think like that, I really like you."

I like you... Your liking? What does that even mean?

Eleanor forced a distorted smile. Heh, heh, hahahaha.

You are truly consistent inside and out, Andra, you have never changed.

My past self—I'm so sorry.

She staggered back two steps, carefully looking up at the handsome and flawless king before her.

Andra's face showed pity, helplessness, and feigned gentleness... but not a trace of guilt.

She has no regrets.

Yes, what is there to regret? She killed the king of an enemy country and married a "wise" new queen.

She wanted him to get pregnant so that he would obediently and wholeheartedly work for her.

What did she do wrong? She was absolutely right!

The faces of Eva, Ophelia, and Myrcella flashed through Eleanor's mind simultaneously.

She seemed to see her mother and sister's corpses standing behind her with grim faces, as if she could see them through the back of her head.

"It's all your fault, Eleanor."

The mother, with a pale and bluish face, vomited black liquid.

"It's all your fault, Eleanor!"

Ophelia, her limbs severed, stared with her dark, empty eyes.

"It's all your fault, Lily..."

Mysera, covered in blood, let out a mournful cry.

Eleanor felt her soul trembling, weeping and shattering along with their corpses.

"I did nothing wrong..." The fragile girl covered her face and cried weakly.

“It’s your fault, Eleanor.” A woman born from the river of blood, with a face identical to hers, reached out and touched the girl’s forehead.

Andra from her past life crossed the river of blood and walked towards her.

With a crash, her former lover staggered to her knees, tears of blood streaming from her eyes.

"This is the happiness you got in return for abandoning me?! What have you done, Eleanor?!"

A whoosh. Eleanor struggled to back away, but the shadows loomed over her, making it hard for her to breathe.

You only live once, Lily.

Mysera from memory shrugged and asked, "Why did you do so badly in both your lives?"

Yes, why is that?

The shadows of everyone echoed in unison, questioning her with sighs, emptiness, anger, and resentment.

because--

I've been too lazy.

“I’ve been too lazy…” The girl stood on the empty ground, bathed in the center of the river of blood.

I am so lazy—I am outrageously lazy!

It was me, it was me who handed everything over to others... Andra in the past life, Mysera in this life.

I dare not attempt those difficult things, merely changing the simple surface appearances; more importantly—

I never dared to face Andra in person.

"I want to let us go..."

Are you trying to let her go? Or are you trying to let yourself go?

You know perfectly well that the key issue isn't "whether I let Andra go or not," but "whether Andra will let me go."

She can't, she can't, my poor, foolish, lazy Eleanor.

As the girl finished speaking, a soft petal swayed in her heart.

Eleanor knew that this was the Great Mother reminding her: Enough, since you are in so much pain, then come back quickly.

She could easily return to the warm river of blood, then go back to before she was injured, back to a point in time when everything could be changed, and be reborn anew.

God loves her, Mother Goddess is willing to watch her change her past mistakes, and her mother promises to give her happiness.

This tender love restored some of Eleanor's consciousness; the phantoms that had been constantly blaming her vanished, and she saw the real Andra.

The Andra of this life stood before her, somewhat bewildered.

She seemed to want to open her arms and continue embracing her wife, but her hands were held back by some pride or a vague anger.

Andra certainly knew what deception was, but the king must have thought it was a white lie.

His wife is a little princess who has no relatives, and the country of Norlanna will belong to her resentful, blood-related sister.

And she, Andra, was the one who saved her. For a princess, what ending could be better than marrying a powerful king?

Andra's lips moved repeatedly, and judging from her calm expression, she must be saying something heartfelt.

"That's not lying, I was just afraid you wouldn't be able to accept it all at once."

"We'll have a child, and when she's a little older, I'll help you reclaim the throne, okay?"

"You hate Ophelia too, right? I'll help you get revenge later..."

Clatter, clatter, clatter.

Eleanor heard a dense cacophony of sounds.

Those were her running steps, her heartbeat like gears.

She charged toward Andra, she charged toward the sword in Andra's hand—

I hate you, Eva.

You occupied the position of a mother but never put in any effort for your daughter. You died like a joke.

I hate you, Mysera.

You lack both wisdom and determination, yet you shamelessly aspire to be king. How many people who trusted you have you ruined?

I hate you, Ophelia.

Your abilities don't match your ambitions. You schemed against my sister, but you can't even handle Andra... You're so mediocre that I pity you.

I hate you, Andra.

I hate you, Andra.

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!

The name Andra kept surfacing in my mind, as red and sticky as blood.

Eleanor heard the roar of the blood river.

Oh, that's not the tide of the Blood River, it's her blood vessels and heart.

...

Eleanor's eyes were too resolute.

Andra held her breath, momentarily forgetting that she was still holding a sword.

She instinctively raised her arms to embrace the raging fire—her rational and lovely wife was completely enraged, her very soul screaming.

Why? She even felt a little wronged.

"Andra...!"

Eleanor called her name, then slammed her head against the sword, letting the blade plunge deep into her chest!

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I love you... I hate you!!

Eleanor did not tear off the soft petal; instead, she allowed her body to willingly plunge into deeper pain.

Remember this pain, Eleanor.

Don't love, don't love, hate, hate, hate deeply!

Remember this feeling. Don't forgive Andra, you mustn't forgive Andra... No, I absolutely won't allow you to continue being lazy.

Large gushes of blood gushed from his mouth and chest, spraying onto the endless earth.

She didn't puncture accurately enough; he won't die anytime soon.

Eleanor's body grew colder as she coldly stared into Andra's panicked eyes.

Andra, pale-faced, shouted to those around him, presumably calling for help.

But what hope was there for Eleanor? She knew that someone injured like that was beyond saving.

It hurts so much! It hurts so much!

Bleeding wounds, a bleeding heart, and the guilt of tightening the neck and severing the bone marrow.

Andra.

Eleanor silently opened and closed her lips. In the next life, I will never forgive you.

Eva, Ophelia, Mysera... you just wait.

I will not let you shoulder responsibilities that you are simply not capable of bearing.

Let me change everything... everything!

As the blood drains from the river of blood, the soul begins to rise.

Eleanor stared wide-eyed amidst countless noises and pain, clutching the sword to her heart as she sank into the river of blood.

Um?

The endless stars in the sky trembled with a sense of bewilderment.

The Great Mother Goddess's gaze fell upon him, and she discovered that the once clear soul was repeatedly shattering in a cycle of deep, dark self-reproach.

He conveyed a perplexing greeting through countless times of time and space.

Why are you so sad?

There was no questioning in God's emotions, only curiosity.

Why be so sad? Wasn't this your own choice?

Why be so sad? Can't we start over?

Why be sad? My dear child, I don't see what you did wrong.

Did I do nothing wrong?

Eleanor froze, a slight tremor running through her soul.

She realized that it is a very, very difficult thing for a mother to think that her child has done something wrong.

Perhaps the perspective of gods is completely different from that of humans.

He views many human mistakes as part of the natural progression of events, as normal and reasonable. Since they happened, they seem perfectly reasonable...is that right?

She felt much lighter instantly, but she didn't let her guilt dissipate just because the Mother Goddess approved of it.

Eleanor's soul became clear again, and she calmly answered the starry sky, "Mother, I was wrong, because I was lazy."

Lazy?

God repeated the answer she had given, seemingly neither approving nor disapproving of it.

Yes, I'm too lazy.

Actually, Myrcella and I are quite similar; we're definitely sisters... We both take it for granted that we're omnipotent. I always seem to be very busy, yet I neglect the most important things.

Oh, your sadness stems from not having accomplished the most important thing.

Yes.

You now need to get to the most important thing.

Yes, Mom.

Go ahead then, cheer up.

The trembling stars stirred the river of blood, and a deluge of blood enveloped Eleanor, carrying her to the other side of time.

The nurturing and care from the mother's womb try to touch her broken soul and repair those sorrowful cracks.

But when the blood rushed to her heart, the stubborn daughter refused her mother's most crucial caress.

Let me remember her, let me remember this pain, this overwhelming anger—!

I cannot forget the pain I felt before I died. If I did, I would fall in love with Andra again and let myself sink into the trap of sloth!

So the touch stopped outside the heart, and the mother granted her daughter's willful request.

Then hate, then feel the pain, then remember.

I hope this brings you happiness.

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Author's note: This incarnation of Andra did not succumb to madness due to grief like the original Andra.

But she spent her whole life wondering why she lost Eleanor... She discovered that her love for Eleanor was far deeper than she had imagined, and repeatedly explained to everyone that she had not killed Eleanor: even if she could kill all of them, she would still earnestly explain.

If this timeline were to extend further—(which actually doesn't exist; once Eleanor finds happiness, all other worlds would disappear and merge.)

The second Andra did not appoint another queen. She told the historians that it was because she wanted to balance the power in the country and could not have a queen who ruled over everything. But the real reason seems to be different.

She would have children who would raise the banner of rebellion during her lifetime, and Andra would easily quell it. Until the day before her death, no one would dare to offend the suddenly aged queen. She would imprint fear in the hearts of all.

In this life, she only loves war; she loves no one else.