Come and Cry at My Funeral - Chapter 233
Obscure memories, prologue : Izar
People say that before a person dies, the events of their life flash before their eyes. One can only know if that’s true when standing on the very edge of death.
‘Is this… the lantern of life?’
That Izar, from ‘that time’, looked down at the sword piercing through his body and realized the saying was true.
His mother crying after being beaten by his father. His father, who drowned himself in alcohol after his mother fled, and who then pushed Izar to his limits.
The deaths of both parents, which the ten-year-old Izar had tried—and failed—to prevent. The Emperor, who scorned him and walked away.
Learning of his repulsive half-brother’s existence at age eighteen.
And the days that followed, where he blindly ran forward for the honor of his house…
His life had been filled with nothing but moments he never wanted to see again.
But even Izar had one moment in that lantern of life he wanted to remain in forever.
〈I will protect you from now on.〉
It was the day he pulled the honey-blonde woman into his arms. She had her hair braided thickly and adorned with flowers of many colors, as if she were the spirit of the flowers herself.
In truth, she had been beautiful ever since he first saw her when he was still a boy.
He hadn’t known what ‘beauty’ was, and so for a long time, he hadn’t known how to name that feeling.
But she was the one who paid the price for his ignorance.
〈I won’t leave your side again. I won’t turn away from you again…〉
Why had he turned away from this woman?
Because it was humiliating to have her thrown at him like a bone to a dog that failed the hunt. He turned his head away and vowed to loathe her for the rest of his life, treating her as a stain on it.
Never dreaming that one day he would bitterly regret that twisted arrogance.
〈Izar……〉
The woman in his arms looked up at him with pale green eyes.
The woman he had ruined looked at him with eyes as pure as ever.
That clarity in her gaze drove him mad. It made his chest ache to the point that even breathing was painful.
This woman was his sin, his punishment, and the one lingering attachment he could never let go of.
As if afraid the flowers would be crushed and wilt, he carefully pulled her closer.
〈I……〉
Though he never managed to whisper what came next, it was still the happiest moment of his life.
“Haa… ha……”
Stumbling through that lantern of life, Izar reached out with great effort.
Just raising the hand that had been pierced by the monster’s fang made every muscle in his body scream in agony.
But there she was, asleep just in front of him.
Perhaps because they were in a dark underground lake, she glowed white like the moon.
Inside the glass coffin, filled with white flowers that resembled him, lay his beloved, finally at peace.
“Freesia……”
He ran a bloodied hand across her peacefully sleeping face. He wanted to touch her directly, but the glass separated them.
He wanted to touch that cheek. He wanted to gently stroke her with both hands.
But his hands, dirtied with the blood of monsters and men, couldn’t bring themselves to touch her.
She was finally sleeping without pain, with that pure expression…
“I……”
His throat, filling with blood, barely let out sound.
Where should he begin?
In the flames that consumed the empire, he had at least preserved her place of rest.
He had held out until the end so the land where their child lay buried would not be violated.
But what he truly wanted to say was something else.
〈Izar, I despise you.〉
That day, when she plummeted with a curse, there had been something he wanted to tell her.
He had rushed back to say it.
So why had it ended like this?
Just then, the flood of blood choking his voice silenced him completely.
Instead, as his vision blurred, he gazed at her one last time and thought—
That some words… should never be left unsaid.
His life had been nothing but failure.
***
Once again, flowers fell.
Though the world beyond the pane of glass was still draped in spring sunlight, even the lightest breeze scattered the petals like snow.
A man with black hair stood silently by the window, watching the scene.
Tall in stature, his shadow stretched long across the floor, and perhaps due to the contrast with the bright weather outside, it looked especially dark.
As if the place where he stood was steeped not in spring, but in death.
That impression didn’t come just from his shadow, but from the aura that seeped from his entire being.
His lips, tightly shut, betrayed no emotion.
Once fiercely gleaming, his golden eyes were now dulled like a rusted blade.
He stared blankly at the falling petals marking the end of yet another season.
“Duke Arcturus.”
“……”
“His Majesty the Emperor awaits. Please… you must hurry…”
