Barbaric Spouse, Descry the Night's Lure-Chapter 169: Scene CLXIX

"..."

"I think she’s angry about it... but I don’t know. I don’t want to ask about it and make her more angry."

"... To think you were such a clueless coward..." — To the unconfidence the feared archduke demonstrated Jollveld sighed as if exhausted by the scene. Inciting a deathly glare from the alluded savage.

"I’ll kill you."

"Do it and you won’t ever know what your woman wants."

"... How could you know what I don’t about Ewelina. She’s mine."

"That’s ’cause you are a savage idiot who doesn’t even know what having a lung truly means."

"A fated lung is the partner destined to my soul."

"And?" — Annoyed, Jollveld asked to make Aslak’s mind work on his knowledge. — "What else? You know more than that. You even call her Fatædi, don’t you."

"... The seed of zeal amour. Ewelina is my air."

"... Aslak... I noticed she even wears a crafted accessory on her arm. It has at least three types of gems... You made it for her, right?"

"I did."

"So?... Why did you do it?"

"... It’s tradition."

"Tsk! Since when do you care about tradition? Don’t even say it’s ’cause Otrur Nols told ya to ’cause I know not even him you listen."

"........ I wanted to. That’s all."

It was obvious to the eye of the King that the man before him was conflicted by the ignorance a cold upbringing evoked. The knowledge of Aslak was just as any from his lands, he had accepted there were strong sentiments the woman to his side had earned and he had never felt before.

Nevertheless, the fact he learned of their destined bond solely aided his ignorance to excuse the reasons for such feelings revolting inside his soul... never truly understanding the deepness of such emotions nor the need his heart experienced to tell the woman what he knew about their fated bond.

"... You wanted to, huh?..."

"... Aie."

Jollveld once again stared, finding the usually admirable barbarian pitiful... as well as the patient and ignorant wife waiting for him to realise the love.

A deep sigh was the preparation the king used to inform the Archduke, who, until now... had only blindly followed the advice from a warlock who did not want to interfere in the natural unfolding of time the earth had decided.

"There’s a reason why you wanted." — The King started, with a smile that also felt guilty while telling what the man needed to clearly understand... for the truth he had told him to confess his wife would become even more difficult once completely aware. — "The seed of zeal amour, you know it means she is rooted to your core to the point it would be fatidical for your being for her to disappear or be taken away from the lung she’s rooted to aid your breathing."

"... Aie..."

"Although it has a deepest meaning in Sortnafeigr as the earth taught that to its people... here to the North, there’s a simpler way we call it... nonetheless, compared to zeal amour it could feel less intense... After all, it’s a name for how we call the venture... it’s not a legend a deity left for us to feel it stronger."

"... What is it."

"... Before that... does she know about the seed and its link to a fated legendary lung? Have you taught her that is why you call her Fatædi?"

"No... I was about to do it the other day but... we were interrupted and couldn’t get the impulse to say it later."

"... Haaa... Cursed be your wildness, my friend..." — Feeling pained to learn Ewelina was ignorant of everything important she needed to know, Jollveld’s head ached to think of the hazard his friend and cousin would undergo with the hurtful truth he also should tell the woman.

However, despite the pity... he decided to teach an ignorant... so later such ignorance would not deal a worse outcome in his soul. — "Here we call that love, Aslak."

— Your gift... I love it. —

— Have... a nice day...... love... —

"..."

— I love you, my son... —

"It is a deep feeling just as that you feel because of zeal amour... She is from the north... asking why so much... what she wants is for you to say you love her since you haven’t even explained why you call her Fatædi."

Stunned by the word he had heard before in a memory, Aslak remained quiet... thinking of the wife who had expressed like to a gift with such word... Yet more so of a woman who had said it before to him as a child.

"... Mother said she loved me once."

"... What?"

"My mother. She was from the north wasn’t she?"

"Uh. Yes, but... Aslak, didn’t you say you don’t remember about Aunt Anja?"

"... She was always in her private chambers before I was sent to the Framikanna ritual. Never saw her much."

"Then, when was this? If it was like that–"

"When he killed her."

"..."

"When Sjur killed her once I came back."

"... Sjur? As in..."

"Ou. My father."

Stillness settled in the ambience of the cousins by the shock such information induced in the King. Yet the man sharing it unfolded his hand to take another gulp from his cup, wishing to disperse the distaste the recall of the scene provoked.

"... You never told me about this."

"You never asked."

"!? You–?!" — Indignated by the nonchalant answer, Jollved stood up as if wanting to hit Aslak... Nevertheless... the clarity in his amber hues was clear confirmation that in his savagery the past he had lived was as supposed to be... finding no oddity in the scene he had just told Jollveld about. — "... You... you should tell me more about this later."

"... It’s not even important."

"... So aunt Anja told you she loved you..."

"She did."

"When she said it, it was because she wanted you to know she had deep feelings for you... of course as her child." — Jollveld continued explaining even as his heart was in pain by the experience he did not know about his cousin’s. — "Knowing that one is loved is actually an important matter..."

"... I see."

"So... Ewelina... your wife... what she wants you to answer... it’s probably that. After all, she’s in the dark about every detail this fated lung matter entails."

"... I should tell her all of that?"

"... Has she ever told you she loves you Aslak?"

"... No... well..." — Feeling his heart lighten, the murmurs of a once asleep Ewelina were recalled. Mistaken of her drowsy murmurs for the word had only been used for the accessory he crafted. — ’She loved my gift...’