Second Life, I’m Dying Soon Chapter 66

 

Chapter 66

 

The bathroom was little more than a cramped, inadequate space. Even the wooden tub prepared inside it was so small that only one person could barely sit in it.

Once Cecil was placed into the round wooden tub, the warm water rose to just above his chest. Alexis carefully laid Cecil’s head back, then perched himself roughly on the rim of the tub.

He rolled up his long sleeves to his elbows. Then he picked up a clean towel, plunged it deep into the bathwater, and wrung out the excess moisture.

With no soap or perfumed oil, all he could do was pour clean water over him and gently rub his skin with the damp towel. Even that was done with clumsy hands, but Alexis paid meticulous attention as he washed Cecil’s neck and face.

Cecil, receiving such care, looked utterly serene. His freshly washed face had regained its original clarity, and there wasn’t even the slightest tremor in his closed eyelids.

Water trickled down from his hair, slid along his face, gathered at the tip of his chin, and then dripped softly back onto the surface of the bath.

It was the only sound in the silent bathroom. Alexis paused his hand and stared at Cecil.

“I still find you infuriating. I can’t forgive you.”

He tossed the towel he was holding onto the floor with a dull thud. A breathy, humorless snort escaped him.

“When you’re in front of me, I get angry, and when you’re gone, I can’t stop thinking about you. What am I supposed to do? How did things end up like this? I’ve never once doubted a decision I made. But you—you’re the exception. What do you think I should do, Cecil?”

Alexis continued to glare relentlessly at Cecil’s face.

As though the sharp stare had substance, Cecil’s brow twitched. A faint reaction followed, as if he were about to wake, but his heavy eyelids did not stir even once.

“Talking nonsense to someone who isn’t even conscious.”

Muttering to himself, Alexis let out a short laugh. The warm water was beginning to cool, and the sweat had mostly been washed away. Just as he leaned forward to lift Cecil out of the tub, something caught his eye.

On Cecil’s chest, there was something that looked like a scar. Alexis narrowed his eyes.

It didn’t seem recent—more like something that had been there for some time… and its shape was unusual, almost too distinctive for an ordinary scar.

He tried to look more closely, but the thin fabric floating in the water kept swaying, obstructing his view.

Alexis slowly submerged his hand into the bath. Just as he reached to pull the collar aside for a clearer look, Cecil’s hand rose and suddenly grabbed his wrist.

“…Your Highness.”

Cecil slowly lifted his eyelids. At last, consciousness returned; after a long time, focus settled into his emerald-colored eyes.

“So you’ve finally awakened.”

He shook the water from his wet hand. Seeing him rise casually, Cecil lifted his head as well. His head was still spinning, and he had to hold his forehead.

“What… happened?”

“How much do you remember?”

“I know… that Your Highness came to save me.”

A faint curve appeared on Alexis’s lips. He picked up a dry towel set aside and wiped his arms, his manner utterly nonchalant.

“That’s enough. You don’t need to worry about the rest. The drug you took has already been dealt with.”

“And the marquis…?”

“Curious?”

Cecil frowned slightly and nodded. Fragments of memory surfaced. Unclear as they were, he was certain Alexis had swung his sword at the marquis.

Alexis replied as he straightened the sleeves he had rolled up.

“I spared his life—barely. Once he recovers, I plan to throw him into some distant province.”

“……”

“I handled him properly. In that state, no one would recognize him as Marquis Valeri. He can neither see, nor speak, nor write. He won’t even be able to ask for help. He’ll probably live a life worse than death.”

Cecil couldn’t understand. Letting out a quiet sigh, he asked again,

“…Why did you get blood on your hands yourself?”

“Why?”

“If he had stood trial, he would have been executed without question. His title and wealth would have been confiscated as well.”

By now, Alexis had neatly adjusted his clothes and leaned diagonally against the wooden wall of the bathroom.

“Paying with death is too easy. I want the marquis to suffer for a long time.”

With his arms crossed, he looked down at Cecil.

“And more importantly—if there had been a trial, what happened to you would have become public.”

“……”

Cecil was left speechless. The weight of what lay behind those casually spoken words was so heavy, so undeserved, that his throat tightened.

He had thought there was no way back with Alexis anymore. Yet not only had Alexis saved him—he had gone this far.

His eyes burned with complicated emotion. Cecil let out a long breath and scooped water from the tub, splashing it onto his face. It was an obvious attempt to hide his tears, but Alexis pretended not to notice.

“…Thank you.”

“Mm.”

The short reply came back. Alexis, fully reclaiming his usual sharp demeanor, exited the bathroom first.

Outside, Claude was waiting with several knights. From the conversation they had overheard through the door, they had already guessed that Cecil had awakened.

“Your Highness, shall we prepare to depart?”

“He’s not fully recovered yet. Stay one more day and keep watch.”

“But you’ve been away from the imperial palace for quite some time.”

“I know. That’s why I intend to return first.”

Before leaving the inn, Alexis instructed Claude to look after Cecil carefully. Claude, who had expected to attend the Crown Prince, asked back with faint surprise.

“Me, Your Highness?”

It was rare for Alexis to personally entrust someone with another person’s care. That alone meant the individual mattered.

Frankly, it was hard to understand. Cecil had tried to harm Yuria, and because of that, he had fallen out of Alexis’s favor.

Searching the capital for the missing Cecil, punishing the marquis brutally—those could be justified as matters of imperial security.

But assigning Claude to guard Cecil felt excessive.

“Is there a problem?”

“…No, Your Highness.”

Claude hurriedly lowered his head. A brief glance at Alexis’s expression showed it to be as complex as his own thoughts, making it impossible to guess what lay behind it.

“I will obey. Please return safely to the palace.”

 

**

 

The moment Alexis returned to the imperial palace, he was buried in work.

He had been gone for only two days, yet administrative matters awaiting his approval had piled up like a mountain.

Being busy left him no room to think about anything else—and that was probably for the best. His thoughts were so tangled that he needed something, anything, to distract himself.

As he worked through the backlog without pause, a visitor arrived. It was the prince of Themion, who had requested an audience several days earlier.

Upon hearing that Alexis had returned after briefly leaving the palace, he had come straight to the office, disregarding propriety.

“It seems barging in without permission is customary in Themion.”

Alexis spoke coldly, continuing his paperwork even with the guest standing before him.

Johannes bowed deeply, fully aware that his actions violated protocol.

“My apologies, Your Highness. There is something I must tell you, and today is my final day in the Empire. I had no other choice. Please forgive my rudeness.”

Alexis let out a small sigh and tossed aside the document in his hand.

No matter how busy he was, he couldn’t slight the representative of a delegation—especially a foreign royal.

“I can’t spare separate time for an audience. Say it now.”

With permission granted, Johannes drew in a deep breath until his chest swelled. His tension was so great that sweat had already pooled in his palms.

The Crown Prince of the Empire was just as rumored—a strikingly handsome man, and above all, overwhelmingly imposing. Simply standing before him made Johannes’s knees tremble.

“I wish to tell you the truth about the recent incident, Your Highness. The one who harmed the Saintess… was not Cecil. It was me.”

Summoning his courage, he confessed everything.

The night he visited Yuria and injured her. Begging Cecil to take the blame in his stead. Even the fact that he himself was suffering from an incurable illness, with little time left to live.

With each confession, Alexis’s expression hardened. Resting his head at an angle, he glared at Johannes with murderous eyes.

“Albrecht IV. Is there even a shred of falsehood in what you’ve told me?”

“I swear upon the name of Themion.”

“The matter is already concluded. Cecil confessed in your place and has been punished. You could have simply returned to your homeland. Why confess now?”

“If I leave the Empire… I may never see Cecil again for the rest of my life. I cannot leave after destroying my friendship with someone so dear to me. I want Cecil to—hah—to attend my funeral.”

In the suffocating silence, Alexis’s index finger tapped the desk. Tap. Tap. He was carefully weighing Johannes’s words.

“The Saintess… predicted the date of your death. Cecil told you that—did he?”

“Yes. I don’t have much time left. At first, out of nothing but greed to live a little longer, I made a mistake I never should have. But now it’s different. Even if I must pay for my sins, I wish to spend the rest of my days with a lighter heart. Please, clear Cecil of your misunderstanding.”

Johannes pleaded until the end in a trembling voice. His sincerity was so evident that his quivering body looked almost pitiful.