Chapter 40……
Marmel was someone who wore pretense and falsehood like a mask. If he had lived according to his true nature, rumors that he could become a wise ruler would never have spread.
Sonidor thought of Mr. Lepons, whom she had worked with before. He had come to her office simply because he wanted to confess to his first love from fifty years ago in a dream. Perhaps that’s how people carry regrets for the moments they couldn’t be honest about their feelings. Even after fifty years, unable to forget, they bury it in their hearts—but wouldn’t the emotions felt now be even more painfully intense?
“Being honest with yourself is important too.”
“Hmm.”
“Expressing it in words is equally important. Of course, with Your Highness’s—or rather, Mel’s—position, you can’t just freely reveal your heart. But this is a dream, isn’t it?”
“…….”
“I’m the only one listening here.”
Speak freely! Sonidor smiled foolishly, her mouth wide open. It was a smile meant to appear harmless under her tiger-like features—but just like that, she was immediately chased out of Marmel’s dream.
Damn it!
Marmel Ricaryan K. Arke
If one were to define his life, it was like a gearwheel. Gears spinning without ever holding emptiness, turning and turning endlessly. Slipping, misaligning, spinning uselessly, only to be marked eventually by another jagged gear. Such were the soft teeth of his existence.
The past only became more distorted. Like trying to smooth out a crumpled sheet of paper, it remained crumpled no matter how hard you tried. Words couldn’t be inscribed; it was frayed and tattered. Marmel blinked slowly, staring blankly at the snowy scene outside the window. The past was just the past. Moments already gone. Losing them didn’t really affect life. One by one, he erased the days that had passed, and then, at some point, he realized he was standing right here. Exhaling onto the frozen window, his breath left a foggy mark. He was alive, breathing on this land.
What am I doing?
Marmel absentmindedly touched his nose, feeling the shallow rhythm of his breath. Was I really alive? While pondering this, the emperor happened to pass by the corridor and noticed him. Beside the emperor was the eldest son of Duke Anderson, Marmel’s childhood mentor and lifelong aide.
“So, you like the snow, huh?”
It was a question the emperor would never have asked under normal circumstances. Marmel slowly nodded and replied, “Yes.” Not that he particularly liked the snow; he had just realized he’d been staring outside. Since he didn’t dislike it, he answered affirmatively. At the edge of his vision, the aide’s face seemed to blur with black spots. In an instant, the blotches spread like maggots, covering the entire face in darkness.
“What’s happening?”
“Something must have gotten into your eye.”
Another strange hallucination. It had to be. There was no way black spots could suddenly engulf a person’s face. Marmel pressed his eyes shut and calmly dismissed it. Experiencing such hallucinations was not something to be shared with anyone—not even the emperor. If the emperor knew the crown prince’s mental state was compromised, he would first offer a few chances for recovery, and if no improvement followed, he would simply give up.
But Marmel knew this wasn’t something that could be fixed.
For some time now, his world had lost color. Dark meant black, pale meant white. Black and white. In the gray, colorless world he inhabited, life was possible. As long as no one noticed, it was fine. And he was confident no one would notice—unless someone suddenly asked, “What color is this?” He could skillfully dodge such questions, answering in kind, “And what color do you see?”
Yet, the inability to see human faces was a serious problem. It was becoming harder to distinguish faces. At first, everyone appeared identical, like wearing inverted masks. As days passed, shadows seemed to envelop their heads, leaving nothing visible. It was as if their necks and faces were entirely covered in black maggots.
Like wearing a black mask on the execution platform.
Ah, so this is how madness consumes a person.
Marmel thought. Yet, still alive, he began distinguishing people by voice and build. His memory was the one thing he could rely on—if he saw or heard someone once, he could remember. People nearby would usually speak to him first, allowing him to manage his delusions. Perhaps it was then he developed the habit of treating everyone kindly. He felt like a blind man with eyes open, unable to trust the world he saw.
But he continued to live.
Hallucinations worsened over time. Sometimes he saw black spots crawling over untouched food. Marmel would silently push the plate away. Sleepless nights increased. In the colorless world, in darkness where he couldn’t see an inch ahead, he counted his own breaths. Alcohol and women were out of the question; he felt intense disgust and unease the moment he became vulnerable.
When his father, the emperor Kadin, appeared to him as a headless dragon, Marmel instinctively realized his state was beyond recovery. He had gone fully mad. All creatures are said to sense death coming. He felt it too. At the limits, the abyss was before him. Anxiety, once faint, now engulfed him completely. Even maintaining the façade of intelligence, decent looks, and gentle demeanor became unbearable.
The headless physician asked the noticeably haggard Marmel:
“Your Highness, have you recently faced any hardships?”
He simply gave a small, bitter smile.
“Hardships? No, it seems my insomnia has worsened.”
“You should reduce your sleeping medicine.”
“I will follow your advice, physician. It was useless anyway.”
Sleep magic carried greater side effects and dependency than medicine, so it couldn’t be abused. As the physician left, Marmel stared at the water and medicine on the table. Black maggots gnawed at them. The white pills turned black, seeping up to stain his fingertips. Soon, it seemed the darkness would consume him entirely. Covering his deepened eyes with his palm, he muttered softly:
“I wish I could sleep forever.”
He wished the world were silent. He wished it were blind.
No, he wished everyone were blind.
No, no. He wished he himself would endlessly circle the same path, unaware of where he was headed. Yesterday’s today, today’s tomorrow. Spinning the wheel until he lost himself entirely.
Yes, he wished it all would disappear.
The answerless future, invisible even an inch ahead, whispered in a maddened voice in his ear:
“Kill them all. Kill your father. Take the throne, inherit his madness, and execute the hyenas waiting for you to collapse. Trust no one. No one will fill your emptiness. Then fill it with their hot blood. Bend the leash, twist the blade, and put everyone beneath your feet. Then you will gain eternal rest.”
He wanted eternal rest.
At least he wanted to remain human.
He wanted to pierce his father’s heart.
He wished someone would just kill him.
Though he couldn’t sleep deeply, on shallow sleep days, waking was difficult. Things encroaching from yesterday increasingly approached him. At first just annoying, now they covered almost half his vision. He could no longer leave the house or confide in anyone. He stayed isolated, claiming illness. The emperor scoffed at his weakness.
True. Weak and naturally gentle, he chose self-consumption over giving in to madness and breaking familial bonds. That day, he had not taken sleeping medicine. When the black hallucination finally enveloped his world, Marmel fell into a deep sleep.
“Ah.”
Suddenly, his knees felt light. Marmel blinked, looking at the spot where Sonidor had disappeared. Only crushed flowers, flattened under her tiger weight, remained. He wiggled his aching legs a few times, then exhaled in relief, collapsing onto the floor. The sky remained blue—meaning she had been forcibly expelled from his dream once again.
Next time she enters, she might sulk or scold—or even kick. He hoped a small animal would come, so even if kicked by the tiger, he wouldn’t be harmed.
“You’re making unreasonable demands, that’s why.”
Marmel muttered softly, covering his eyes. Unknowingly, his ears had a faint pink hue, like the scattered petals on the floor. After a while, peach blossoms from the tree above fell, covering his face.
Marmel sat up abruptly, brushing them off, frowning lightly.
To reveal one’s heart completely—how dare she say it so confidently, as if he could handle it? Yet Sonidor already knew a lot about him, even without direct confession. She had said it knowing this.
“…….”
Initially, he had thought to leave her be, since he was already doomed, but now he worried she might panic and flee.
“Protect it with your life…”
The playful fox’s words lingered in his ear.
