Spring was in full swing. Wherever I looked, I could see crocuses, snowdrops, and other flowers unique to this world. They were in full bloom, attracting our vineyard's beekeepers, bees, and the much larger bumblebees. These bumblebees had survived winter in their own burrows and bent the flowers' stalks with every landing. It almost seemed like magic to see their huge bodies fly with the help of their little wings. Their hind legs were heavy with yellow pollen, which they spread from one flower to the next. When they had had enough, they carried it home to build a stockpile and a nest for their future larvae. Yet, with every bright blossom, I felt the silent press of change creeping closer. Each burst of color was a gentle reminder that the world kept turning, no matter how much a part of me wished it would simply pause.
The roses in Olivia's garden had also already started to grow their first few buds as if they couldn't wait any longer. They wanted to leave the cold of winter behind and announce the start of spring. I, for once, didn't welcome the ending winter months. Spring is usually my favorite season of the year, but this year I prayed that winter could last forever. No change, no responsibility, just me and Janus sharing our heat beneath a blanket against the cold chill that would now and again slip through the windows' shutters.
I ended up enjoying our time together far more than I had expected. Leaving the bed became increasingly difficult, not only because of comfort but also due to my bulging belly. It had grown so cumbersome that I now needed someone else's help to get out of my armchair or bed. Of course, using a mana shield, I could just push myself up, but that didn't make me feel any better. Already, I felt like a stranded whale. How much bigger could it even get?
I already suspect that, at the rate they are growing, they would be ready ahead of time. I just hoped they could wait until after the ceremony. Otherwise, we might have to speed this up even more. If they were to be born before the marriage, they would be considered bastards in the eyes of the law and society. That alone would mean they could lose their legitimate claim to Janus's family name, inheritance, or legal protections. This would make them easy targets for anyone who wished to challenge their status. Their birth could become a tool for other noble families eager for any leverage to question Janus's right to marry me or our children's right to stand at his side. I was sure they would already face a lot of scrutiny due to me being a commoner, an outsider, so to speak. I had invaded their world and taken a valuable marriage prospect from their houses. There is no doubt in my mind that they would try to pressure Janus into marrying another. Not that he would, of course. But just like I was weak and selfish that night by taking advantage of Janus, someone else might try the same.
I never expected to feel so much for him, yet I can’t untangle my heart. I should love him by now, but every time I try to say it, a knot forms in my throat. I know the reason lurks behind that locked memory door. Ever since learning her true identity, I can’t bring myself to revisit those memories.
How did a future version of myself get corrupted? How did it get back to God's realm? Haven't I removed that possibility by becoming a demon in the first place? Why did it help me? Was it all so she could see Janus again? Did that mean I would truly love him someday? What was all that talk about the future I avoided, and what of it might still happen in the future? What if…
There was so much I wanted to ask her… or, I guess, myself, really. But I was also afraid. So deeply afraid. To even think there was a future where I could become her deeply terrified me.
How did I become corrupted? Corruption is the primordial evil, the stuff of nightmares that drives one mad and kills anyone that comes into contact with it by slowly but surely corroding the soul, and yet it is living in my soul, and I'm fine?
How?
Even the gods fear nothing as much as corruption. There are only two things all gods fear, and that is being forgotten and corruption. One touch will forever stain their immortal soul. No one is supposed to be immune. I wanted to meet her to ask questions to learn, and now I feel like I learned nothing while only having more questions.
Sigh,
I pick up the cup of tea in front of me to ease my headache. It feels like it's spinning from all the questions swirling inside it. I take another look outside the library window. Beneath me, I could already see the first preparations for the coming Spring Festival, as well as my marriage ceremony, even though it was still a week away.
Unlike the Lunar and Solar Festivals, which focus on the sun and moon, and the harvest festival, which is well focused on the harvest, the Spring Festival is often called the Festival of Life or Star Festival. It celebrates new life and fertility and is a popular marriage date for many couples. I was told that over half of all marriages happen during this Festival. So Janus and I weren't the only ones. No one I'm close to would marry this time, though. Emma and her husband, Peter, had married during last year's Festival of Life.
It would prove to be a busy time for our only priest to bless all these couples, but since there were so few patients these days, he would manage… I think. At least master Roland must have managed, and he had way more to deal with.
I averted my eyes from the busy main courtyard back to the book about southern noble houses I had been reading to distract my mind. The more I looked, the less sense each word made, and soon I found myself rereading the same sentence multiple times. Eventually, I gave up and let the book fall closed, the bookmark, a red ribbon, left stranded between chapters. I had too much stuff floating through my head right now to focus on who cheated whom and which house fell due to embezzlement. I have my own problems to focus on. Though maybe it would be best if I at least let some of them go.
The marriage will happen, and I will say yes.
My… our Children will be born, which will make me happy, and I will get all the help I need to raise them.
We will move to the capital this summer, but I won't be alone, so there is nothing to worry about.
The Ibasans and elves are a threat, but they have been for hundreds of years and still have not taken the Fort.
The corrupted me can't do anything except give me weird dreams.
Adelheid and Emma both agree that I'm at an etiquette level where I won't embarrass myself or the Yuwen house.
After reminding myself of all these facts, I felt at least a little better. But when I looked at my worries now, I realized there were many of them. My previous life had been so different—then, I only had myself to worry about.
A brief memory flashed across my mind: a quiet night back in that old, cramped apartment. Noodles bubbled on the stove, and I sprawled across the faded couch, listening to rain tap against the window. I remember stretching my legs without a care for anyone else, the silence broken only by my own humming. There was nothing at stake but deciding what to watch; no one was expecting anything from me. The weight on my chest now was completely new, heavy with promises and futures that belonged to more than just myself. Back then, loneliness had been a gentle emptiness I could shape as I pleased. Now I carried a different burden, one filled with hopes and fears for people I loved. These were decisions that mattered far beyond me. That simple, detached life felt safe in its own way, but now I had something precious to lose—and a future I was both afraid of and longing to embrace.
“Is the book not to your liking?”
Thats when I realized that Otto had been silently observing me from behind his own book for some time now.
“It's alright, there is just so much going on right now that I can't focus on it properly. How is yours?”
“Mmhh? I already know all the fairytales in this one.”
“Then why are you reading it?”
“This new copy has really beautiful illustrations.”
“Oh, really, can I see?”
I hadn’t thought of Otto as someone who cared for picture books. Still, here he was, book in hand.
He turned the book around and showed me the picture he had been staring at for the last ten minutes. It was a beautiful hand-drawn picture of two knights crossing swords at a crossroad. When I looked closer, it almost seemed like their shadows were… embracing each other?
“Have you noticed their shadows…?”
“Oh, ehm, yeah, what about them?”
“Oh, nothing… can you tell me where you got it from?”
“It… was a gift, you see.”
“A gift from whom?”
*knock, knock*
Otto looked at me, and I looked at Otto, wondering if he would welcome them in since the Library was his territory, until it got so awkward that I finally broke the silence and asked,
“Who is it?”
“It's Seymour Cowal.”
For a moment, my mind ground to a halt, unable to remember where I had heard that name before, until it finally dawned on me. Seymore Cowel was our new priest, and a cheeky thought formed in my head.
Otto gave me a pleading gaze begging me not to let him in, and I was almost convinced when I remembered that Otto had told Rika and Benjamin about my secret, which he had promised to keep. So I played dumb and happily said,
𝅘𝅥𝅮“Come in.”𝅘𝅥𝅮
I could feel Otto cursing me in his head, but I paid him no mind and instead focused on our new visitor.
“Oh, hello Otto…, you are also here…, I-I uhm just wanted to return the book you recommended, that's all.”
Seymour was so perplexed by Otto's presence that he didn't even greet me.
My eyes followed the priest's awkward movements as he returned his old book, while Otto did his best to look as if everything was normal. Yet, beneath their polite exchanges, there was a current of energy between them that was impossible to ignore. Otto's posture grew even stiffer, and Seymour, normally composed, seemed almost flustered by Otto's presence. I could feel an awkward tension building up in the air, charged with something unspoken, as if their interactions might have taken on an entirely different tone had I not been in the room.
“How is the book I gave you? Did you like it?”
My eyes darted back to Otto, who seemed to be more and more annoyed by my presence but still answered Seymour's question. But he didn't say anything about him already knowing all the fairy tales or how beautiful the hand-drawn pictures were; instead, he just said,
“I liked it."
It was clear as day that Otto held back, almost as though he wanted to keep something just between the two of them. But despite his restraint, Seymour ended up smiling from ear to ear when he heard Otto liked it, a smile that lingered a little too long, and was met with a glance from Otto that seemed loaded with meaning. For a moment, something electric seemed to pass between them, a silent conversation that I was not meant to witness.
So Otto quickly tried to change the subject and block my gaze. He stood up and directed Seymour to look through the shelves together,
“Since you have already finished yours, how about a new book?”
Otto tried to come up with a title right off the bat, but it took him a bit too long, so I slipped in and handed Seymore the book I hadn't finished earlier and said,
“You should try this one. I especially liked chapter forty-four, though I didn't like the ending.”
It was the chapter I had just finished, and it was about a young lord who ran away with his male escort knight on his marriage day. Sadly, in the end, they were caught, and the escort knight was executed.
Otto, who had also read the book, tried to remember what had happened in chapter forty-four, but when he finally did, I had already left the library.