Crown of Thorns

CHAPTER 32

Translator : Cuties ––– Editor : WilsonWilson

The peaceful days went by, unbecoming of the witch. Evan must have gotten used to living with the witch, he ate well, slept well, and became brighter day by day.

Today, too, Evan was sitting by the window reading, feeling the sun shining on his body. Putting down the book I was reading, I turned to Evan.

Evan, the small boy, was growing up. He grew taller, his arms and legs became a little longer and sturdier. His hair, fluttering under his ears, touched his shoulder. I thought I should cut it for him since he looked uncomfortable, but I ended up leaving it as it was.

It was cute to see his hair behind his ears, showing his fair cheeks, or shaking above his head like an animal’s.

Come to think of it, the boy who stayed in my memory gradually grew out his hair, and eventually tied it together. It looked good, but the stronger the person is, the more annoying long hair becomes, so I will have no choice but to cut it short for him later on. So it might be better to let it grow for as long as it can for the time being.

As well as the changes in his appearance, Evan’s intellectual level has also grown considerably. From eating quietly and neatly to being able to read fairy tales. I was proud and satisfied with the strong steps he was taking toward becoming a warrior.

The more light he absorbed, the stronger Evan became. It was even phenomenal to the point that it appeared to me to be God’s will for him to quickly embrace all the light he can and drive out the darkness.

Evan raised his head from his book, saw me staring at him, and soon looked down again and started reading aloud.

“The soldier stabbed the witch with the sword he was holding. The evil witch laughed until the end. I’ll be back. It won’t end so easily. The witch was slain, and the world found peace. The warrior married the princess he had rescued, and lived happily ever after! The end!”

As if some letters were hard for him to read, he stammered in that part, but I nodded at him for reading it all until the end.

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“You’ve improved a lot. You can read more difficult books now.”

“I’ve worked so hard. So I don’t have to read these fairy tales anymore?”

“Don’t you like to read them?”

“They’re not fun. What is all this? Witches always come out as villains…”

“Because they’re witches.”

“What, are witches all bad?”

I smiled slightly at Evan’s grumbling, then covered it with the book I was holding in a hurry. It’s so bright here that I might not be able to hide it anymore soon. However, upon hearing Evan’s words that followed, saying, “Some witches are not bad,” I kept smiling. As I tried to organize my facial expression, Evan’s voice continued.

“Why does the witch in fairy tales always kidnap a princess? If you’re that strong, you can just kill them all. It’s strange to keep the princess breathing and well until the warrior comes.”

She’s waiting for the warrior, for the warrior’s sake.

I looked at Evan tilting his head, looking through the book as if it were a strange artifact. I had a desire to reach out and pat his white hair. As time went by, my greed grew more and more. I had a pulling desire to stay with him, and that desire kept on growing until I started wanting to be with him forever. I wanted to see the boy getting older and grow into the young man in my memories, and I wanted to see a child who looked just like him.

I knew this would happen. There was no end to greed, the more I had, the more I wanted. The idea that it would be nice to meet my end at the hands of the warrior grew bigger, diversifying itself like this.

Even though it was an impossible dream, I was greedy.

Evan asked, still glancing at the fairy tale.

“Why doesn’t the witch kill the warrior?”

I knew the answer to Evan’s question.

“Why don’t you think of it like this?”

“Like what?”

“The witch set things up on purpose. She knew it would happen. She helped the warrior save the princess.”

To make the warrior happy.

Evan’s eyebrows frowned at my words. He seemed not to understand.

“Then what does the witch get from it? She’s going to die. Why would she do that?”

Because she loves him.

Because she loves the warrior.

But I can’t tell Evan that much. If it is revealed to the world that the witch loves the warrior, it will be a curse in itself and will put the warrior under their control again. He can’t be happy if he’s known as a hero who was loved by witches. It would no longer be the story of a warrior who had saved the world.

The witch in the fairy tale loved the warrior. However, she couldn’t express her feelings, and so she might have hoped for the warrior’s happiness. Maybe she helped him marry the princess and live a decent life. The princess is much more beautiful than herself, the princess and warrior suit each other.

It is better for the warrior to end her cursed life with his hands so that he can be recognized by everyone and live happily ever after. If her cursed life is over, and if the warrior can reap something from it and be happy with his own life, then nothing would be happier than that for the witch.

That’s what I wish for.

I would be happier if I could die in his hands. If only I could finish my cursed life and never wake up again, and if I could give him wealth, honor, and love, there would be nothing more to wish for.

And so, my useless greed must be pressed on hard to keep the end goal clear. I opened my mouth, cutting off the greed of raising myself from my dark abyss.

“If you don’t like it, do you want me to tell you another story?”

Evan’s eyes widened. But soon, he nodded his head in joy, quickly sitting beside me. The sun, which had been embracing Evan until just now, followed. The warm and languid temperature of the sunshine reached me, too. The ever-white Evan had become the sun in itself. He was driving out the darkness and chill around me already.

I closed my book and put it down. Then I organized the tale that came to my mind. Evan’s words had reminded me of a story my sister told me as a child. This story is not one that he can hear from the people here. I’m telling it to him because he said that he didn’t like how the princess in the fairy tale was always caught by the witch and was eventually saved by a warrior.

In the meantime, Evan is sitting quietly, crouching, and waiting for my words. His expectant red eyes are very cute.

“Once upon a time, there lived a princess named Pyeong-gang. This is that princess’s story.”

“Pyo…Gaang?”

“Pyeong-gang.”

“Pyeoonga…ang. Why is her name so difficult? I can’t pronounce it.”

“It’s because it’s from an old forgotten language, it’s been long gone now.”

Actually, my sister said that it was a foreign language not from here, but I didn’t mean to tell him that. No, I wanted to, but I knew very little. My sister had a lot of secrets.

“Why did it disappear?”

“It’s because people are after comfort, and that the language is too hard.”

Evan, who was trying to pronounce the word Pyeong-gang, asked again.

“Can you teach it to me?”

“Why would you want to learn that. There’s nothing to use it for.”

When I spoke decisively, Evan’s eyebrows frowned, and he eventually nodded. Learning was also greed. The more one learned, the more they will eventually want to learn its written words. He seemed to want to learn more languages. But as I said, I didn’t want to teach it to him because he had no way to use it.

Leaning against the wall, I turned to my side and opened my mouth, looking at Evan prepared to hear the story.

“In the village where Princess Pyeonggang lives, there was a man called Ondal the fool. He was a hard-working man with his elderly mother. He was called a fool because he didn’t learn anything.”

“It’s too much to call him a fool when no one ever taught him.”

What Evan said was right. They tease someone, calling him a fool without even thinking of educating them first. It wasn’t that he was a fool; it was that the world was a fool. I nodded and continued.

Ever since she was young, Princess Pyeonggang has cried so much that the king would tease his daughter, saying, “If you keep crying, I’ll marry you to Ondal the fool.” After a long time, Princess Pyeonggang, who had grown old enough to get married, really ran out of the palace to marry Ondal the fool.

“Ever since I was young, you said you would send me to marry Ondal the fool. And now, if you don’t, who would still believe in the royal order? And thus, she married Ondal, telling the king not to lie. Are you listening?”

I asked Evan, who was unresponsive. Evan replied, nodding his head, and said with a languid voice.

“I’m listening. Nyx’s voice, it’s great. Keep narrating to me.”

After a moment’s hesitation, I resumed telling the story again—years after Princess Pyeonggang’s marriage, Ondal ended up saving the kingdom from great peril. This was because the princess sold her valuables from the palace. She bought a house, a horse, and taught Ondal everything she knew.

I remembered my sister, the one who told me this story.

My sister told me that if I had the ability, I could make my man a general without having to marry a better man. So I have to study and build up my strength. She added, “If they become better, there won’t be an instance where we have to grieve them under the dirt.”

As my sister said, I was weak and childish, but I tried to study and develop my strength. And now I can use that ability.

If my sister had seen it, she would have complimented me for doing well.

I turned my head because it seemed to be quiet next to me. Evan was dozing off with his eyes closed. He seemed to feel tired after quietly listening to the story, even though it was still bright out. After reaching out and carefully wrapping Evan’s head, I led it toward my shoulder so that he can sleep in a more relaxed position.

I stroked Evan’s hair with my other hand, lifting my head to look at the bright window. There was one thing Princess Pyeonggang didn’t know. It was the fact that her beloved husband would eventually die on the battlefield.

She should not have pushed her loved one to the extremities, but she didn’t seem to know that.

I closed my eyes, brooding over the lessons of my sister’s story.

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