Chapter 2. Such a Strange World
“I died… didn’t I?”
Lobelia was sure she had died. But she was alive. Still in disbelief, she touched her neck. It wasn’t a dream. Or… was it?
“Ah!”
As the memory returned, her whole body trembled. In the moment when a sharp blade had cut across her neck, Lobelia had made a wish. She wasn’t afraid of dying—what broke her heart was not being able to see her child grow. She had desperately wished to know that her baby was safe and alive. And at that very moment, a warm voice whispered in her ear.
“Yes, child. Is that your wish?”
It was a god. She couldn’t see them, but she believed it was true.
“Poor child. I will grant your wish.”
At that voice, Lobelia had dropped to her knees and bowed deeply. To have her wish granted—was there any sweeter promise than that?
“Who are you?”
“I am the Mother of all. The creator of all things in this world.”
A god. The same god she had worshipped all her life. Even if it wasn’t a god but a devil, she would have still accepted, if only her wish came true. She would’ve even sold her soul.
“Please let me see my baby! I want to know they’re safe and healthy! Please!”
She pressed her forehead to the ground and clasped her hands toward the sky. She didn’t dare lift her head, afraid that any mistake might cause her wish to be denied.
“I just want to see my baby!”
Lobelia sobbed those words aloud. She waited for a response, but the voice didn’t speak again. Was it a failure? Maybe this kind of wish couldn’t be granted? Maybe she really was dead and couldn’t go back. As she cried, a gentle warmth approached. It was soft and comforting. Lobelia slowly looked up. Though there was no one visible, the warmth she felt told her someone was there. An invisible god pressed their hand to her forehead. It felt warm. Though she couldn’t see them, Lobelia trembled, knowing something divine was in front of her.
“Don’t worry, child. I know my representative lied to you. I am the one who chose that child, and it is my fault that you were hurt. I will heal your pain and grant your wish. Just open your eyes. Your world will have changed.”
And then, the god lightly pushed Lobelia’s head. It was just a small push, but she fell backward. The shock of falling made her open her eyes.
“Huff!”
She had woken up in this alley. Dark, damp, and filled with foul smells. It was a disgusting place—like nothing she had ever experienced before. Once Lobelia realized she was alive, the first thing she did was pray.
“Dear God, thank you!”
She quickly got up, afraid she’d become trash if she stayed too long. The uneven, rocky ground beneath her feet felt like her own life—rough and unpredictable.
“Uwaaah!”
As she left the alley, she heard loud cheers echoing from all directions. What was going on? The streets were full of noise and excitement. Lobelia, shivering in the cold, followed the sounds.
“A festival?”
Colorful purple flags fluttered cheerfully down the decorated streets. Purple flags? Those were only displayed during national celebrations.
“Ah!”
Lobelia smiled brightly. This had to be good news. Recently, the only thing worth celebrating was the birth of the prince. So if there was a festival this grand, it must mean her son was alive and well.
“Yes, Ostro. You’re human too.”
Even if the Emperor had killed the Empress, he wouldn’t have killed his son. He must have done what she had expected. She gave a bitter smile. Maybe the Emperor’s conscience—or the eyes of the people—had stopped him. At the end of her life, she had hated him so much. But now, knowing her son was alive, some of that hate faded. Just a little. About the size of a speck of dust.
“Thank goodness…”
Leaning against a wall, Lobelia sighed in relief. After calming herself, she stepped toward the heart of the festival. If there was a royal parade, it would go from the palace to the central square and back. She recalled the path from her time as empress. If she wanted to see her son, the square would be the best spot. Lobelia headed toward the large clock tower she could see in the distance.
“There are so many people…”
As she got closer to the square, the crowd thickened. She could barely walk, bumping into two or three people with each step. Exhausted and breathless, she finally reached the square, but her legs were too weak to keep standing.
“Too… many people.”
She muttered in a tired voice. Just then, someone called out to her.
“Miss, over here.”
She turned to the sound and saw a kind-looking older woman sitting on the square’s steps, waving her over.
“There’s a spot here. Come sit.”
Next to the woman was a small space, just big enough for one person. The stairs were also packed, so it took time to get there. But once she arrived, the open view made it worth the effort.
“You’re lucky. Someone just left to go to the bathroom.”
“What if they come back?”
Lobelia looked around, a little worried someone might ask her to leave.
“Don’t worry. No one could get back through this crowd.”
The woman smiled and handed her an apple.
“You look hungry. Eat this.”
“Thank you.”
Lobelia smiled as she took the ripe apple. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was, but now her stomach growled.
‘No knife… How do I eat this?’
She swallowed hard, unsure how to peel it.
“Why aren’t you eating?”
“Well… the peel…”
Lobelia’s eyes widened. Eat the apple with the skin on? She had never done that before. Her meals had always come cleaned and sliced by servants. She had thought the skin was trash.
“The peel?”
The woman asked while taking a big bite of her own apple.
“No, it’s nothing.”
So you could eat it like that. Lobelia stared at the woman, then slowly brought the apple to her lips. She hesitated, unsure if she should bite or not. But her hunger won. She finally took a bite.
“It’s delicious.”
“Right? Apples are really good this year.”
The woman laughed. The peel was a little tough, but not inedible. It was strange but fun—sitting on the ground, eating like this. It was her first time doing either.
“When will the prince arrive?”
While still munching on the apple, Lobelia asked. The crowd was growing, but there was no sign of the parade.
“The prince? What do you mean?”
The woman looked confused.
“Isn’t this a celebration for the prince’s birth?”
“Birth? Oh no, that was a long time ago.”
“What?”
Lobelia didn’t understand. A long time ago? But the prince was only born a week ago.
“You must’ve been far away. The prince was born ten years ago.”
Ten years…? Ten years?! That much time had passed?
When? How? Why?
Panicking, Lobelia looked around. Was someone playing a joke on her? The buildings, the river—it all looked the same. But then she noticed the people. Their clothes, hairstyles—they had changed. Fashion always changes quickly.
“Ten years…”
She murmured, shocked. She hadn’t realized so much time had passed. When she had seen her reflection earlier, she still looked like her 23-year-old self—exactly as she did when she died.
‘Then… my child is ten now?’
As soon as she realized that, she began thinking of her child. Ten years old. What about his first birthday? His first steps? His first words?
‘I missed all of it…’
Tears filled her eyes. Had her child cried for her? Been sick? Her sobs were drowned out by the noisy crowd.
“Mom, that lady is crying.”
A child’s voice reached her ears. She ignored it. Missing her child was more important than looking strange. But the next voice was harder to ignore.
“She must be happy because Duke Lardiah won.”
At the familiar name, Lobelia looked up. Duke Lardiah? Did she know someone like that?
“Who is Duke Lardiah?”
She asked the older woman.
“Oh, you really must have been away. He’s the ‘Blood Wolf.’ He wins every war…”
The woman started explaining, but just then, cheers erupted from the crowd. Everyone turned in the same direction. Lobelia looked too—and heard a loud, majestic sound echo across the city.
“There he is!”
Someone shouted, and the crowd stood, chanting in unison:
“Glory to Brunfelsia under the blessing of Cliohme!”
The loud cheers moved closer. The parade was approaching. Lobelia stood, too, unable to see through the excited crowd.
“There he is! He’s coming!”
As the parade neared, people waved and shouted. It was a long procession. Lobelia looked to the front. A flag bearer, then a man on horseback, waving to the crowd. He wore a royal purple cloak—the color of national celebrations. He must be the hero.
“Wowww!”
The cheers were deafening. Lobelia covered her ears and watched the man. He looked ahead without emotion, only waving his hand. He was tall, muscular from war, with blue hair blowing in the wind. Though far away, Lobelia recognized him.
“Ka… Kyle?”
“Yes! That’s Duke Kyle Lardiah!”
It was him. Kyle Lardiah. The boy who once gave her flowers with a shy smile.
“Wow! Blood Wolf! Blood Wolf!”
At the crowd’s cheers, Lobelia covered her mouth. That sweet boy was now called the Blood Wolf. Her heart churned. The years she had missed made her feel sick. This really was a strange world.
***
“Is something wrong, sir?”
The aide asked when his superior stopped looking forward.
“No… nothing.”
But Kyle still stared in one direction. The aide frowned and moved closer.
“Is there something coated in honey over there?”
He had to speak louder because of the cheering crowd. He didn’t like yelling, but he tolerated it—it was a day of celebration. Kyle didn’t answer. The aide sighed and looked the same way.
“Oh…”
Now he understood. The aide grimaced. Again. During war, surrounded by only men, it didn’t matter. But now the old habit returned.
“I thought I saw someone familiar.”
Kyle muttered.
“A person? Maybe it’s just the hair color.”
That golden-blond hair—just that shade. For ten years now, Kyle has always stared at that color that reminded him of her. The aide disliked this habit. His lord still couldn’t let go of a dead woman. If this weren’t the victory parade, he might have run over to check the woman’s face already.
It wasn’t just the hair. In his eyes, height, hairstyle, or even walk were a little similar, Kyle had to check.
“My lord, do you know what the most common hair color in this holy Brunfelsia is?”
The aide asked with a sigh.
“Brown.”
“Yes, exactly. And the second most common?”
“…”
“Dark blond. That exact color.”
The aide’s tone was annoyed. He had said this to Kyle thousands of times. But Kyle never responded—he didn’t want to hear it. The aide gritted his teeth and gripped the reins.
“But still…”
Kyle muttered, his gaze fixed on one head in the crowd. There were many with similar hair, but only one caught his eye. Just one. For some reason, he couldn’t look away.
Seeing his lord’s wistful expression, the aide shook his head.
“If you’re really that curious, I’ll send someone to check right now.”
“Do it. Immediately.”
Kyle gave a small nod, trying to hide his urgency.
“Yes, sir. But let’s hurry. His Majesty is waiting.”
