Chapter 38 The Long-Awaited Lover is Here
Heinrich had a very strange dream. In it, he saw blue flames burning fiercely in a circle around him, the air filled with a strange, nauseatingly sweet fragrance, and the voice of a woman chanting unknown incantations echoed in his ears. Something damp and smelling of rust dripped onto his skin—
"Tristan... Tristan... My dear Tristan... Ah! You've finally woken up!"
Heinrich opened his eyes to find himself lying on a warm, comfortable bed, a stark contrast to the dilapidated and gloomy scene he had witnessed in the castle. He had been washed and cleaned and dressed in fresh clothes. The white-haired Isolde sat by the bed, looking at him tenderly with a smile.
Heinrich was startled and jumped out of bed in a panic, shouting, "What happened?!"
"Don't worry, great knight Tristan, my dearest lover. I simply had a servant take you to wash and change into clean clothes so you can rest. Rest assured, your first love is a chaste woman who will not be blinded by momentary desires. Don't be afraid, I will never harm you."
"How long have I been asleep?" Heinrich asked anxiously, realizing Lilith was still waiting for him in the forest. He looked around and saw that it was still pitch black outside the window, but the rain had stopped. The forest was silent except for the occasional cawing of crows.
"Not long, only about two or three hours have passed. I've prepared a sumptuous dinner for you. Please come with me to the restaurant. You used to love my roasted pork knuckle and mashed potatoes. Since coming to Italy, I've learned many local dishes. You must be starving after walking outside in the rain for so long..."
Heinrich felt a sense of despair. The woman before him seemed completely absorbed in her own fantasy, utterly incapable of normal communication. He swore he had never seen her before and couldn't understand a word she was saying. His first love? Could she have mistaken him for some long-lost first love?
If we disregard her incoherent statements and enigmatic motives, and instead judge solely by the objective circumstances of this place, what information would we glean? First, given the castle's status, the mistress should at least be a lord. However, the lady previously referred to as Hilde stated that both she and her mistress were German, and she now speaks fluent German to Heinrich. Therefore, she is unlikely to be an Italian-born noblewoman, but rather a noblewoman sent by a German noble family for a political marriage. However, considering her attitude towards us and her all-black attire, similar to Lilith's, perhaps she is also a widow?
"Or would you like to sleep a little longer? I'll have the servants reheat the food every half hour, and you can eat whenever you're hungry. If it doesn't taste good, I'll make you a new one. I've also prepared your favorite rye beer... My beloved Tristan, I am your most faithful lover and most loyal servant. You can do whatever you want, I will do as you please."
Heinrich fell into an awkward silence. More than eating or going back to sleep, he was now worried about Lilith's safety in the forest. But was this castle truly safe? If he brought Lilith here, would it save her life or force her into the witch's trap as well?
He looked again at Isolde's gentle, submissive smile beneath her eerie red eyes. If she truly wanted to harm him, whether by forcing him into slavery or dismembering him to make ingredients for a witch's potion, she could have done so the instant the maid subdued him. There was no need for her to wait for him to wake up, prepare a lavish meal for him, or serve him submissively as if he were a distinguished guest.
She still insisted that he was "Tristan," and shattering her illusion seemed like provoking her sore spot. Heinrich decided to take a gamble and asked Isolde for supplies so he could bring Lilith there. To appease Isolde, he had to continue playing along with her self-directed act. Fortunately, Heinrich had been with Lilith for so long, acting alongside her every day to conceal his identity, and was no longer the naive boy who blushed and felt his heart race when he first arrived in Venice.
“In that case, Isolde,” Heinrich cleared his throat, trying to get into character, “I can’t wait to enjoy the delicious meal you’ve prepared for me. But I must say I can’t do so right now. Because… my best friend, Li… Lorenzo of the Venetian Canaro family, is still waiting for me to rescue him in that dark and mysterious forest.”
“Oh my God! Why didn’t he come to my castle with you?” Isolde gasped, covering her mouth in surprise.
Heinrich thought of the blood on Lilith's skirt: "Our carriage was destroyed by bandits, and his leg is badly injured. He can no longer cross this muddy land or pass through this terrible forest! Kind and beautiful Isolde, please allow me to borrow a swift horse from you so that I can go into the forest and bring my companion back."
Isolde frowned deeply, as if worried about something. After hesitating for a long time, she finally spoke: "...My beloved Tristan, I will grant you any wish. I have only one humble request: please, please don't leave me! Could it be that saving my friend is just a well-intentioned lie, and you are actually going to abandon me again..."
“Oh, no, of course not… Beautiful Isolde, please trust me.” Heinrich gasped awkwardly. “I know nothing about this forest. It’s already difficult enough for me to find my way out. Without your help, I would never have been able to find my way out. My friend is seriously injured and on the verge of death. He is far more exhausted and hungry than I am. What else can I do but bring him here to receive your kind hospitality? Please have pity on my dear friend and do not let him die in misery and loneliness!”
“Most merciful God, please bless this kind friend! Tristan, I will have Hilde prepare the fastest horse for you so you can quickly go to the forest to rescue your unfortunate friend. But I must leave your bag here as collateral, lest you… deceive me again and leave me.”
"No, beautiful Isolde, I will never leave you, please believe me."
Isolde immediately rose and instructed the maid to prepare horses, torches for lighting, and emergency bandages for Heinrich. Heinrich silently hung his sword on his belt, a strange tightness in his chest. He had said similar things to Lilith many times before, almost every time a lie fabricated for revenge. But Lilith was a shrewd Venetian woman; the same lie had to be repeated many, many times before she would find it even remotely believable. However, this Isolde, who lived like a witch in the castle, was far more naive and easily deceived than he had imagined.
Heinrich suddenly felt nauseous. He loathed himself for being a liar who had gradually become adept at manipulating others to achieve his goals. What disgusted him even more was that this feeling of nausea hadn't bothered him for a long time, because he was slowly becoming numb to it. He vaguely remembered the feeling of relief mixed with nausea he had after his first act of fawning over Lilith.
In the past, to combat this guilt, he constantly convinced himself that deceiving Lilith was justifiable, that it was all for the sake of fulfilling his mission of revenge. But what righteous excuse could justify his actions of deceiving Isolde? Beyond the false promises, he even subconsciously concealed Lilith's gender—he lamented his own shrewdness. And now he had to pack his bags again, to risk his life once more to save Lilith, to save the very culprit who had brought him to this state.
As promised, Isolde provided him with an old horse that knew the way, as well as torches, a kerosene lamp, a clean set of men's clothing, and basic bandaging tools. Guided by the compass, Heinrich galloped back in the direction he had come from, soon venturing deep into the vast forest.
/
On the other side of the forest, there was a camp that had been completely looted by bandits.
Lilith covered herself with all the dry cloths she could find, but she still felt cold all over, while her forehead was unusually hot. Although the rain had stopped, the branches were soaked and could not be lit, so she could not start a fire to keep warm. She could only try to protect her body heat from being dissipated into the cold air.
The pain in her abdomen was like a naughty child, sometimes subsiding, sometimes twisting deep into her flesh, tormenting her as she rolled around and groaned in agony.
Where was Heinrich? Had he found someone to help her? Had he decided to abandon her and leave? Had he collapsed from exhaustion in the forest? She didn't know, and dared not harbor any illusions. She only knew that she couldn't die yet; she couldn't die so easily no matter what. She had to return to Venice, for Elena, Tata, and Ivanka, who had been given a new life because of her; for Elena and Clara, who had high hopes for her; for Sophia, who was waiting for her to come back so they could play and chat together; for her career; and for herself.
Suddenly she heard a gust of wind. Was it Heinrich? She saw several pairs of eyes, glowing with an eerie green light, slowly approaching her from the darkness. The moonlight illuminated their grayish-yellow fur—they were a pack of wild wolves living in the forest. They howled at the moon, closing in on Lilith step by step, baring their sharp fangs.
/
Inside the castle, Isolde gazed through the tower window at the tiny points of light moving through the forest. With great interest, she added new ingredients to the cauldron simmering the green soup, covered it, removed some firewood, and turned the fire to a simmer. Hilde, meanwhile, cleaned up the mess left behind by the magical ritual—incantations written in blood, fuel used to start the fire, and herbs scattered on the ground.
“Hilde, tell me, now that Tristan’s soul has taken up residence in his body, why does he seem to have forgotten my past with him… and yet still remember what happened in the forest?” Isolde descended the steps and opened an old magic book.
"Madam, I don't understand these things."
“Perhaps his recent memories are merging with his past, and he hasn’t fully adapted to his new body yet,” Isolde thought, flipping through the pages of her book and notes, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. “Let’s wait and see… Tristan will surely remember me.”
She leaned back on the soft couch, curiously opening the satchel Heinrich had kept there. Maps, a dagger, leftovers, mundane documents, and… a comb? The comb was made of a smooth, jade-like material, yet lighter than stone, with red and black patterns, seemingly crafted from valuable tortoiseshell. The tip was inlaid with mother-of-pearl and pearls in a delicate floral pattern. Such a beautiful comb… it seemed more like a woman's item.
Perhaps he simply enjoys combing his hair; it's not unusual for aristocratic men, especially those living in Italy, to pay attention to their appearance. Isolde tried to convince herself, frowning as she continued searching. Until she found a pair of women's harem trousers.
/
When Heinrich returned to the camp, the east was already tinged with gray, and the faint sunlight gradually illuminated the overcast sky. The corpses, brutally murdered by the bandits, lay scattered in the mud, emitting a thick stench of decay. Several wolves, the size of large dogs, were lying on the ground, gnawing on the carcasses. One corpse's torso had been thoroughly gnawed, leaving only the tough tendons and white ribs beneath the flesh.
Heinrich instinctively drew his sword, brandished it, and shouted, quickly scaring away the well-fed wild beasts. But he hesitated to approach Lilith's carriage. Since the wolves had been there for some time, was Lilith still safe...? Hesitantly, he dismounted and led his horse slowly toward the carriage, where he saw a skeletal arm lying outside the door.
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