Irene Decided to Die - Chapter 178
That foolishness led to Irene suffering through torture. And now, the scars that remained seemed to torment her still. She slowly covered her body with her clothes, not out of shame, but because those marks still haunted her.
Seeing this, Burt decided to act boldly, something not usually in his nature. But for Irene, he would do anything. He reached out, pulled her close, and held her in his arms again.
Irene gasped as she found herself embraced once more.
“Why are you putting your clothes back on? They’re still damp, aren’t they?”
Irene squeezed her eyes shut before answering.
“Because I’m embarrassed.”
“I’m not wearing anything either, you know?”
“But that’s fine for you, Burt.”
“Pardon?”
“Your body is beautiful.”
Burt’s lips twitched at her response. All those years of training had paid off, it seemed.
“Your body is beautiful too, Irene.”
“It’s not.”
Irene replied dejectedly. Burt gently rubbed her back with his palm, even though her clothes barely covered the scars.
“Is it because of the scars?”
Irene’s body tensed at Burt’s question. She hesitated for a long moment before answering slowly.
“Yes.”
“I don’t find them unsightly at all. Scars are proof of your struggle to survive, Irene. You endured until now, didn’t you?”
“I just didn’t have the courage to die. Later, I decided I should die, but I failed.”
“That’s fortunate.”
“Is it? At first, surviving felt so awful, it was unbearable.”
Burt knew. He had been by Irene’s side from the beginning, and he knew everything she had gone through.
“And now? Do you still feel the same pain as before?”
“…No. It’s not as painful as it used to be. Now, there are people who don’t hate me. And traveling around made me realize that I think I like discovering new things, seeing and feeling new experiences. Knowing that, I don’t want to die anymore.”
“I see.”
Burt pulled Irene into an embrace, without any ulterior motives. Perhaps that was how it was meant to be.
They stayed like that, talking quietly. Burt shared stories of his childhood, and Irene spoke about her recent experiences. It seemed she didn’t want to bring up her past, as it was filled with painful memories.
For a brief moment, they enjoyed a peaceful time together.
Despite the calm, Burt kept his ears open, alert for any signs of danger. He had to remain cautious, in case enemies approached.
Then, he heard the distant sound of movement.
“I think it’s time we get moving,” he said softly.
“Someone’s coming.”
Irene quickly stood up and dressed herself. Then she approached Burt and helped him put on his clothes. There was no trace of embarrassment this time.
‘Well, given the situation, it’s understandable.’
His head was still spinning. His body lacked strength, and his temperature was still low. Even so, he could handle a few small enemies.
Burt was born different from ordinary people, a royal by nature. Once roughly dressed, he grabbed his weapon from a corner and positioned Irene behind him, ready to defend.
Irene pressed her body gently against his back.
“If it’s too hard, it’s okay to rest,” she said softly.
“In a situation like this?”
Irene seemed about to say something but then closed her mouth. She likely feared Burt would oppose her idea. That made it clear what she had in mind.
‘She’s thinking of being the bait.’
It was a ridiculous thought. Who would send someone they loved into danger? Burt would rather be hurt himself. He lowered his voice.
“Don’t think about anything strange.”
“What kind of strange thoughts?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Still, if necessary, shouldn’t I?”
“It’s not necessary. I am the King of the North. I won’t die or be injured so easily.”
“Liar.”
Irene’s voice turned cold.
“Don’t lie. You’re already hurt.”
For a while, neither spoke a word. Meanwhile, the sounds outside were drawing closer and closer.
Burt tightened his grip on the sword in his hand.
“They would’ve died falling from this height anyway,” one of the heretics on the search grumbled.
“They say the woman might still be alive, though. Look at the sky. It’s a mess, but it’s still changing. Dead saints can’t make that happen.”
“Yeah, but the terrain here is rough.”
“Are you losing faith? Search properly,” another man scolded the first.
“I am searching. Don’t say things like that. You can’t joke about losing faith.”
The man cautiously looked around, worried someone else might have overheard their conversation. Joking about matters of faith, even in jest, was dangerous.
Luckily, no one else was nearby.
“Hey, looks like there’s a cave over there.”
“Where?”
“Over there.”
“It really is.”
“Should we check it out?”
“Yeah. Looks like the perfect place for someone to hide.”
With that, the two men approached the cave.
