Chapter 7
No, of course not.
Before Argana could even consciously form the thought, her inner voice responded.
Absolutely not. Because…
“Yoshmut can’t even wipe his own butt without help.”
Argana’s blunt remark made Kartak burst into laughter before he quickly cleared his throat and turned red.
He liked that about Argana—if he were to phrase it politely, her refusal to put on airs—but it often left him flustered.
“You’re absolutely right, Your Highness. That petty little man probably still needs someone to blow his nose for him.”
Argana giggled at Kartak’s uncharacteristically dramatic imitation.
“Who on earth were you trying to imitate just now?”
“Barta. Didn’t it sound like him?”
“Our Barta’s voice is like a songbird…”
Argana glanced at him with mock sympathy, and Kartak made a dramatic show of scoffing.
“So Barta’s voice is like a songbird, and mine sounds like a strangled stork, huh?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Oh, I remember it clearly. When I sang that time, you said it sounded like…”
“A squashed frog!”
At that, the two of them laughed and nudged each other’s shoulders, cackling.
It was a memory only the two of them shared—one of many from a world that belonged to just Argana and Kartak.
“That time,” Argana said, “I was playing the lute.”
“Right. And you wouldn’t stop pestering me to sing.”
It had happened when they were around ten years old.
At the height of her obsession with musical instruments, Argana often made Barta or her maids sing for her. That day, Kartak had been with her.
When she asked him to sing, he had shyly built up the courage to do it—but he was so nervous that even his vocal cords seemed to retreat.
“And on top of that, I’d eaten yakgwe that day. That stuff always makes my throat tickle.”
At Kartak’s words, Argana suddenly found the long-forgotten memory resurfacing vividly in her mind like a painting.
She was struck by how deeply she missed those carefree days.
If Kartak hadn’t been with her right now, she might have burst into tears.
Seeing her expression sink, Kartak gently took her hands in his.
“Wihui.”
“What?”
“It might sound silly, but it’s not an exaggeration to say my entire childhood belonged to you.”
His words softly soothed Argana’s heart.
Fears and confusion she hadn’t even realized were still inside her—Kartak touched them with deft care, calming them as if smoothing over waves.
“If you disappear from this world, all my childhood memories will fade with you. I don’t want that. So I’ll help you—with everything I have.”
Argana listened in silence and then smiled gently as she recited an old verse.
“I shall climb to the peak and look down upon the lesser mountains.”
Kartak nodded and replied with the next line.
“Even if I lie with my head resting on a hill, if I rise in time, I shall not be late in ruling the people of the world.”
***
“The Khan rejected Ischuder’s request?”
“That’s what I heard, Your Majesty.”
The elderly lady-in-waiting, Dain, shrank her shoulders in shame. Upon hearing the Empress Marata’s fragile sigh, she felt her nose sting.
“It’s a cruel decision. The prince is trying to prove himself as a man, yet instead of giving him wings…”
“Dain, that’s enough!”
Dain, who had been grumbling on behalf of the frustrated Marata, clamped her wrinkled mouth shut and bowed deeply.
“It is the Khan’s will. Even I say nothing, yet you dare speak out?”
“Forgive me, Your Majesty.”
As Marata bowed her head, the coral beads hanging by her ears clinked softly.
It was a pleasant, clear sound, but to Marata’s ears, it felt like the moaning of the shattered pieces of her heart collapsing day by day.
“Am I the only one who lies awake, full of worry and unrest?”
Marata murmured, more to herself than to anyone else.
Ever since Khan Astrahan had abruptly declared he would abolish the principle of firstborn succession, Marata had been unable to sleep and had lost her appetite.
Her own son, Ischuder, was the eldest of the Khan’s living children and undoubtedly gifted.
Not only did he have talent, but he also possessed a noble character worthy of that talent. Half of Dar’s officials believed he would be named heir and agreed he lacked nothing to become Khan.
“I thought His Majesty favored the child too…”
“Your Majesty, perhaps it’s because the Khan treasures him that he said no. That beast Tatulai from Jindan is ruthless.”
Just moments ago, Dain had been openly criticizing the Khan’s decision. Now, she was changing her tune in an attempt to cheer Marata up—but it wasn’t working.
Normally, Marata would have let it slide, chalking it up to triviality, but this time, her disappointment ran too deep.
“So then? Who ended up being named Supreme Commander?”
“General Orchai of the Cavalry Corps will act as both Commander-in-Chief and General. Vice-Commander will be Lord Tuhoa of the Dragon Guard.”
“I understand General Orchai, but Tuhoa? He only holds the rank of Dragon Guard?”
At Marata’s confusion, Dain pouted in disapproval.
“I heard it was the princess who recommended him.”
Marata fell silent for a moment, then sighed.
“…I see.”
“I don’t understand it, Your Majesty.”
“Enough. It’s not as if it’s the first time His Majesty has discussed state affairs with Princess Argana. Though she is young, she has sharp judgment and keen insight—perhaps that’s why he trusts her.”
Dain looked like she still had complaints to air, but seeing the dejected expression on her mistress’s face, she clamped her mouth shut.
There was no need to add more burdens to someone already so weighed down.
At that moment, the sound of multiple bells rang from outside Marata’s chambers.
Dain scowled at the sound.
“Of all times, now…”
Marata’s expression darkened as well.
A young maid standing guard outside entered and bowed low, but unlike usual, Marata did not glance her way.
“Your Majesty, Lady Turegen has come to see you.”
“…Very well. Let her in.”
Shortly after the maid left, the soft tinkling of jewelry could be heard.
Marata wiped the worry off her face, smiled serenely, and looked ahead.
“Come in.”
“I hope my sudden visit isn’t a bother?”
Lady Turegen entered with a haughty smile and made a show of greeting her.
Marata ordered a seat prepared with soft fur cushions and gently gestured for her guest to sit.
“How could it be a bother? Even if I turned away a thousand guests, I would not turn away family.”
Turegen’s painted lips twitched with a smile that barely hid her scorn.
“You always say the most pleasant things when we meet. Even if I dipped my tongue in honey, I couldn’t imitate Your Majesty’s words.”
