Chapter 21
The queen, however, was stubborn. She insisted that her son should know that she truly loved him.
“One day, I’ll tell you too, my dear Vylon. Really, truly, I lo… love… oh… ugh…!”
Unfortunately, even saying she loved him was no easy task.
In Vylon’s memory, his mother was always someone who would smile at him, only to suddenly become nauseous.
The expression on her face looked so pained. He couldn’t shake the thought that he was a burden to her. Nausea was not good for the body, after all. His mother’s stomach gradually weakened, and her health declined.
“Until we find a way to break the curse, do not meet with the prince.”
The late king, thinking of his wife, took a decisive measure. But the queen didn’t understand, believing she could endure a little longer and overcome it. She thought he didn’t trust her.
In the end, a rift began to form between them over their son.
The two couldn’t resolve it, and they ultimately lost their lives in a rebellion instigated by a certain noble.
They had suffered from Grimdelwald’s curse all their lives, but ironically, what killed the king and queen was not a curse or cruel magic, but a human.
Thus, Vylon, left alone, had to stay sharp. Fortunately, he was intelligent.
He was able to accurately discern who was an enemy and who was an ally, successfully quelling the rebellion despite his young age. This was possible thanks to the mirror.
‘The witch, at least, left behind the one good thing.’
Of course, it wasn’t her intention to leave it for a human.
Thanks to it, he was able to solve all his problems more easily than others. But even this remarkably useful mirror couldn’t provide a solution to one problem.
No mortal means may break Grimdelvald’s dread curse,
For no witch’s craft can its power reverse.
Instead of offering a solution, it revealed the worst truth he hadn’t wanted to consider.
“Do not put too much trust in that evil mirror, Your Highness!”
“Yes, it’s all lies! There isn’t a woman in the world who wouldn’t fall for a prince as handsome and noble as you!”
Though his subjects tried to console him, Vylon took the mirror’s words seriously. That mirror, created by an evil witch’s hand, was incapable of lying.
It was the kind of object that even dared to tell its creator she wasn’t the fairest of all. Why would it lie to him? It had neither the reason nor the ability to lie.
Vylon’s expectations were correct. As he grew older, he frequently saw women freeze up and break into a cold sweat at the sight of him.
“Do you feel like vomiting right now?”
“Wha… what?”
“You’re making that kind of face.”
“N-No, I wouldn’t dare… ugh!”
It was difficult to admit to the king’s face that seeing him made them feel sick.
He understood that, but wished they could at least refrain from vomiting right in front of him. Yet, despite his hopes, without fail, all of them failed to hold back and ended up displaying an unfortunate scene in front of him.
“I-I apologize. I tried to hold it in, but… urp…”
“Enough. I’ll leave.”
Having entered the sensitive phase of adolescence, it hurt him deeply, though he didn’t express it.
Occasionally, women who harbored ambitions of becoming queen would try to endure the rising disgust. Their determination was admirable, but Grimdelwald’s curse was even more formidable.
Due to the great witch’s curse, Vylon always saw the same outcome. Any woman who held his hand would eventually push him away, vomiting even more violently the longer they tried to suppress it.
“Your Majesty just needs to find your fated princess, like your father did!”
Even if he said he didn’t mind, it was clear he was disheartened. Whenever he appeared dejected, his subjects would try to comfort him.
But where was he supposed to find a princess? Princesses were outside the country. And as the king, Vylon couldn’t easily leave the country in search of a princess.
‘I wonder if the magic mirror really answers questions. Could I try asking just once?’
He hoped, perhaps, that a woman like his mother, who would come searching for him out of curiosity, might somehow find her way to his country.
Vylon secretly held onto that hope, but no such princess appeared.
Only the army of a neighboring country showed up.
War was troublesome, but it did have one advantage—it provided a suitable reason for a king to move outside the country.
‘Maybe I’ll find her during the expedition.’
Once again, Vylon held onto a quiet hope. Yet, the miracle didn’t happen, not even when he returned to his country after spending countless nights on the battlefield. Even in victory, he didn’t feel entirely joyous.
Would he ever meet his princess?
Doubting this, Vylon asked the mirror.
“Mirror, mirror, clear to see. Where might my fated princess be?”
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