I Thought I Didn’t Have Long To Live!

On the outskirts of Deauville, at the rundown checkpoint. This place, which did not properly identify those traveling to and from the checkpoint, was unknown to the general public. 

Only the merchants living in Deauville had connections to the priests who arrived at this place, and indeed, it was a path meant for the priests rather than a checkpoint. It was because, in the first place, there was only one village to which one could go in that direction. Several wagons with clear destinations quickly disappeared through the checkpoints. Various carriages with defined destinations passed through the checkpoint and vanished swiftly.

Outside the checkpoint, there was a lone carriage that remained still, and that was the old carriage in which Lariette traveled. Soon, a man with dazzling silver hair approached with a cheerful stride and got onto the carriage.

"Doha!"

Lariette greeted him loudly. Doha laughed because he was very pleased with the sight of her waiting only for him.

"I'm sorry, my lady. Did you wait long?"

"I was surprised. Doha didn't arrive, but the coachman suddenly entered and didn't drive off. I thought I was being kidnapped," Lariette sighed, expressing her relief.

She didn't know how nervous she had been, fearing it was a trap set by someone. The nervousness intensified as the memory of being kidnapped came to her mind. 

However, the only reason she didn't leave the carriage was because of Doha's words telling her to wait here. Realizing that, Doha felt inexplicably satisfied by the faith she placed in him. His eyes narrowed gently.

"I'm sorry. The situation was urgent, so I couldn't even properly speak with my lady. Still, thank you for trusting and waiting for me."

"Thank you... What, isn't this a bloodstain?!"

Lariette, pouting, shouted when she noticed a dark red mark on Doha's shirt. Then, without hesitation, she grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled on it to inspect the marks.

"Oh my God. Our lady is attentive too."

"Don't play around! Did you get hurt? What happened? Does it hurt a lot?! Take that off!"

Lariette tried to identify the wound, scolding him for smiling in this situation. When the shirt was opened by her probing touch, a long stab wound on his shoulder was revealed. Looking closely, there was also a large handprint on his neck. Lariette's hand, gripping his neck, trembled upon finding a more severe wound than expected. Looking at her, Doha responded with a playful laugh, as if it was nothing.

"You know, I'm popular among assassins."

The memory of when he killed the assassin who visited them came to Lariette's mind. It was a memory that still haunted her often because it was the first time he killed someone. At that time, Doha gave the excuse that assassins were coming because they found a mine in the house, but now that she knew his identity and his past story, she knew it was a lie. A high priest who will rise to the Pope's seat. Perhaps that identity is the true reason. How long, a long agony, until he could laugh so indifferently despite the threat of death. Lariette bit her lower lip forcefully and pitied Doha.

"Damn bastards. Everyone who hurt Doha must die."

She cursed those who had harmed him. She couldn't even fathom that it was the person she loved.

"Come on. Let's treat you."

"Yes, Doctor."

Doha nodded his head and moved closer to her. It was to heal him, but as he got too close to her, he was breathless. Lariette looked serious and placed her hand on Doha's wounds to use her healing magic. Unlike Doha, who was nervous, she solely focused on healing him. Her face was captured multiple times as she approached him. Pink lashes fluttering like a brush, eyes resembling shining amethysts beneath them, an imposing nose, and flawless skin. There wasn't a corner of her that wasn't beautiful. And as soon as her plump lips came into view, his heart raced.

"Someday on those lips...".

Doha's cheeks flushed, and his heart raced as imagination filled his mind. He seemed like a child again, but his unstoppable imagination couldn't be discovered by her.

"Don't hurt yourself, Doha. I worry about you," Lariette murmured with a voice filled with regret as she healed the throat where a dark mark had been left. Doha smiled like a lion. He loved that she worried about him and not the monstrous duke.

"She can only be as good a healer as the priest of Deauville."

It must be because it's a city with many priests. But none of the healers are as good as Lariette. It was simply because the meaning of healing was different, regardless of the quality of the healing. Doha burst into laughter, reaching into his pocket and fiddling with something. It was round and small, the pendant he took from the distracted Asrahan's neck. There was dried blood on the pendant, perhaps because he ripped it off Asrahan's throat with his fingers. It was amusing to think of it as evidence, even though the dry blood felt uncomfortable, but at the same time, it was proof of what would cause sadness to Asrahan. The reason Doha took the pendant amidst their fight was that he knew Lariette had the same pendant. No one else. When she looked at the sky with an empty gaze, she always touched the pendant around her neck. As if missing someone.

"Done."

Lariette sighed and removed her hand from Doha's body. He still looked at her with a unique smile. Lariette was taken aback by his appearance, and though she wondered what to say, she remained silent because she felt sorry for his situation. Instead, she wanted to tell him what she had decided to do.

"Oh, Doha. You know, the matters in Withya... When I'm done..."

Lariette realized that it was embarrassing for her to consider meeting her mother as a mere "matter." Fortunately, Doha didn't seem offended. Until he heard the next words.

"I'm going to finish my journey and come back."

"...What?"

The smile completely disappeared from Doha's face. Lariette laughed and said abruptly.

"I'm going to see Ashrahan."

The great satisfaction that made Doha so happy vanished in an instant because of those words. Like a sandcastle, it was an emotion built on something fragile, so it was only a matter of time before it crumbled. The carriage carrying a man and a woman, whose close relationship seemed broken, continued to move forward. Towards their final destination, Withya.

------------------------

Lariette and Doha unpacked at the inn upon their arrival in Withya and set off into the city. Shortly after, Lariette noticed that the atmosphere was strange. Withya, which was just a small coastal town, had many strangely beautiful women. It was a decadent beauty unknown to the aristocratic Lariette. Among them, there was a strangely vibrant street. Lariette mistook it for a tourist destination, but Doha stopped her.

"It's a town of prostitutes."

Lariette looked back at the street in astonishment. It had a clean and colorful feeling that was very different from the image of a red-light district she had in mind. Doha added an explanation as if reading her thoughts.

"The place feels different because it's for the priests."

The priests of Deauville would come here pretending to be innocent on the outside and indulge their dirty desires. Since the place sought by the priest belonging to the high ranks of society wasn't sordid, the prostitute village of Withya was exceptionally clean and beautiful. Of course, what was happening within it was far from clean. And Doha's mother gave birth to him right here. He was even the son of a visitor. Lariette closed her mouth and looked into Doha's eyes. He had a rigid gaze, just like before. He had been especially tense for a while. He always had an odd appearance, but he took it for granted given his situation. They soon arrived at an inn. It was also a bar, where the person who took care of his mother stayed, and who could provide information about her. Doha didn't really know where his mother was. He only knew that she was at peace in Withya, and he didn't even care about it. So, to find her, he had to find him first. But today, things didn't go as Doha thought.

"Who? Ignacio? Are you talking about the guy with many freckles on his face?"

"That's right. A guy with many freckles."

Doha narrowed his eyes as he responded to the innkeeper's question. Sinister intuition gripped him.

"It's been at least ten years since he left this city. If he didn't have so many freckles, I wouldn't have been able to remember him."

"...What? No way."

Certainly, until a few months ago, he received regular reports. Doha muttered, not comprehending. And then Doha realized it only then. It meant that none of the reports he received contained a picture of his mother or any accurate record. It felt as if he had been struck in the back of the head with a bat. It happened because he didn't care. It was because he didn't want to worry about it in the first place.

"Do you know a red-haired, golden-eyed prostitute? She's a person who resembles me. She should be around 50 years old now."

She was the mother who gave birth to him at a very young age. Doha's beauty comes from her, so if he asks around, he will find her. The innkeeper's face listening to Doha turned strange. In fact, from the moment he saw Doha's face, there was a woman who came to his mind. As a child, she was the most famous woman in Withya.

"Do you mean Claudia?"

"Yes."

Doha affirmed lightly. It was the name of his mother that he had forgotten for a long time. And the sinister intuition soon became a reality and appeared before him.

"She died a long time ago, more than a decade ago as well."

"The details are probably known by the clandestine prostitutes. Go there at night," added the innkeeper, looking at Doha.

---------------

"What flowed between them after returning to the inn was a heavy silence that brought forth a cold sweat. Lariette was resentful of her past self, who had recommended that she meet her mother.

If only she didn't know, she wouldn't have been so surprised! Sorry, but it had already happened.

Doha said nothing, did nothing, so time passed in blankness. His face was terribly expressionless. She died. She, who was resentful and cursed violently, died. It was a long time ago. It was all in vain. The words of resentment lost their destination, and at best, the determined mind faded away. She didn't want her job to surprise her, but she couldn't help it. At least she wanted to know what was right. Doha didn't move until the sun set. The back alley, where middle-aged prostitutes gathered, opened late in the afternoon, so they followed the innkeeper's request to visit it.

"Doha. I... Let's go together."

Lariette grabbed Doha's wrist, preventing him from moving forward. His condition seemed too dangerous for him to go alone. The golden eyes were darkly submerged, the face was pale, and the expression was as lifeless as a corpse. She was worried. However, Doha responded with a smile on his face.

"No, I'll go alone. I don't want to take you to that place."

"I'm fine..."

"I'm not fine, Rie."

Doha's voice, which stopped Lariette's words, was quite firm. It was impossible to bring a loved one to the town of prostitutes. It was natural because he wanted to show her only good things. Besides, Doha didn't have much confidence. That he wouldn't have an accident in front of her. Too many things had happened to him today, so it was very difficult to contain his emotions. In front of Lariette, he could reveal his terrible personality. How would she react to seeing him like this? Could she leave him? It was very terrifying.

"I'm just trying to go alone to show you a good appearance."

His face crumbled again as he remembered his burning voice saying he would return with Asrahan. He couldn't be with Lariette in this mood. Without hesitation, Doha took a step after making that judgment.

"Stay here. I'll be back."

He left the inn without even hearing the response. Lariette sighed as she watched his back. Her friend was going through a difficult time, but this body was not helping at all. Her heart felt too heavy, heavier than it already was. And then, a coat appeared before her eyes. It was Doha's, a long black coat.

"It gets cold at night..."

Lariette touched the coat with a somber voice. It was soft as if the coat itself was Doha, as if his hands were comforting her.

"I can't do it, take it."

Doha told her to stay in the inn, but he was concerned about her catching a cold because she had gotten hurt. So, Lariette took off her own coat and stood up. At that moment, something fell out of the coat pocket and rolled onto the floor. Ding!

"Ugh!"

Lariette startled and quickly leaned down to search for what had dropped. She was a little worried about losing one of Doha's important belongings. Fortunately, what fell, rolled, and came to a stop under the table. Lariette smiled with relief and knelt to retrieve the item. Soon, the overall smile on her face disappeared.

"Why is this..."

Lariette's lips trembled with shock. Her violet eyes blinked rapidly. It was a pendant that felt very familiar to her, covered in dried blood, but she didn't know to whom it belonged. She slowly opened the pendant and looked inside. The violet gemstones that resembled her own eyes shimmered.

"Everyone who hurt Doha must die."

The curse she had whispered hours ago echoed in her ears.