If I Throw Myself into His Sea - Episode 2.16

“……”

“Your Highness cherished you very much.”

The words he uttered were another lie that fueled the falsehood that Irene was a noble princess of Epin. After speaking, Rupel quickly grabbed Irene’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was a signal to Irene. A signal to play along without showing any signs of panic.

“…Ah, yes. That’s right.”

Irene nodded awkwardly and glanced at Pereian. Their eyes met again. It was inevitable, as Pereian had been staring intently at her since Rupel started talking to Irene. However, this time, Irene looked away first.

She realized that Rupel was lying for her sake, but she felt twice as guilty in this situation, adding lies in front of Pereian. So much so that she needed to look away just to breathe. Irene slowly took a breath, raised the corners of her lips, and smiled as she spoke to Rupel.

“How is Father doing?”

“He misses you very much.”

“…I see.”

Rupel let out a hollow laugh, perhaps embarrassed by the situation of reciting lies with his friend. Irene, relieved by the familiar laughter, finally revealed her sincere joy and faced Rupel.

“I sincerely welcome you to Deltia.”

She added sincerely.

“…I missed you very, very much, Rupel.”

Irene raised a hand above her solar plexus as if her heart was about to burst, and lowered her head. She didn’t want anyone to see her face, which looked as if she was about to cry at any moment.

Just as Irene hid her expression, “Rupel, Ira.” Pereian, who had approached Irene, grabbed her wrist and turned her body. Before she could even steady her head, which had been shaken by the momentum, Pereian’s remaining hand wrapped around her chin.

Bewilderment clouded Irene’s eyes, which were bloodshot from holding back tears.

“Pereian, is there a problem?”

“Rupel, and Loop… names that are quite familiar to me.”

With a displeased look, Pereian recalled Irene’s actions.

“I heard that Sipri threw you some pathetic amusement.”

The letter that Irene Iphraim had tried to send to the mainland. The first phrase that caught his eye when he examined its contents.

“To my beloved Rupel…”

Rupel. The recipient of that letter bore that very name. There were more than one or two things that had bothered him in the meantime.

“…Loop? I named it after a dear friend.” Pereian remembered Irene naming Deltia’s sacred beast Loop.

Back then, even when she said it was named after a dear friend, he alone had pondered the similarity between Rupel and Loop. It wasn’t just a guess.

The name Irene Iphraim had been constantly searching for in the sea, Rupel. That man was the Grim Reaper. Pereian tightened his grip on Irene’s chin. His heart raced. He felt inexplicably resentful.

Overwhelmed by rising irritation, Pereian nervously closed his eyes. But even beneath his eyelids, in the all-darkened vision, the affectionate expression Irene Iphraim had shown Rupel kept surfacing, making even that a torment.

Eventually, he opened his eyes again and pulled Irene away.

“Wait, I have something important to discuss with my queen.”

There were too many eyes watching there. Pereian led her far away from the Grim Reaper and bit his lip. “You must be pleased.”

“Pereian, why suddenly…”

“Finally, you have an excuse to be with that man in my palace.”

Irene excused Rupel as merely a friend, but Pereian didn’t entirely believe her. From the sweet voice she used to call him, to the expression Irene had shown when she first met his eyes as the Grim Reaper, it was definitely not the look one would give a friend.

Irene seemed speechless, blankly gazing at Pereian. Pereian, with a face that showed he was sick of even that gaze, released his grip on her.

“…You thought I wouldn’t know.”

In a voice drained of strength, he whispered. That face, that expression, it was not something one could show to a mere friend.

When Irene Iphraim passed him by and headed toward someone named Rupel, she wore a face that looked as if it would burst into tears at the slightest touch. Pereian had been bothered by that expression all along.

This entire situation was uncomfortable, unpleasant. As a sensation of his heart tightening seized him, Pereian halted the orchestra’s performance.

This was, perhaps, jealousy. But it was not jealousy harbored toward the man who had come as a god of death with his wife. It was the same emotion that surfaced whenever he saw Irene Iphraim looking happy, as she always did.

‘I am this unhappy because of you.’

Irene’s very existence was unhappiness to Pereian. She was the woman who had taken the seat meant for Ruine, and even her true identity was uncertain. He had to let go of Ruine because of Irene’s existence, yet now, the very root of his unhappiness was meeting a friend or first love from the mainland and being affectionate. This fact stoked his jealousy even further.

‘Irene Iphraim, you shouldn’t be like this…’

If they were to be unhappy, they should be unhappy together. Just as he was unhappy, having married Irene instead of Ruine, she should be too. Pereian had thought it hundreds of times. As much as he had lost Ruine and fallen into misery, he wanted to drag the culprits, Epin and Irene Iphraim into the mud as well.

And now, this woman dared to utter another’s affectionate name and pour out her longing right in front of him. While he could only cling to and yearn for memories of Ruine, was Irene Iphraim reclaiming someone she had left behind on the mainland by her own will?

‘It’s unfair.’

It shouldn’t be this way. This situation, which favored only her, should not be allowed to continue. Pereian, who had dragged Irene away, returned to his seat. His eyes swept over her haggard face with indifference before he shouted toward the members of the royal family.

“The Queen’s complexion is not good. Therefore, we shall postpone the main event to a later date.” He turned back and briefly bowed to the delegation, including Rupel, as if asking for their understanding.

“I shall instruct my aide to guide you to your quarters.”

After hearing the delegation’s response, he observed Rupel with a calm gaze. Their eyes seemed to meet for a moment, but Rupel deliberately ignored Pereian’s gaze and stared into the distance.

“…Let’s go.”

With the frozen crowd behind him after the performance, he mounted his horse. His destination was, without fail, the Deep Sea Palace. Irene, belatedly regaining her senses, tried to stop him, but he was already far away.

The night of the envoys’ visit waned with the absence of the monarch. In principle, the monarch and his consort were to tour the Underwater Palace with the delegation, but Pereian had returned to the Deep Sea Palace, leaving Irene to act alone.

Fortunately, Sipri was still by her side. There was not much for the Queen, left alone, to do. Silently, and with a dignified expression, she simply accompanied them.

Meanwhile, Sipri, acting on Pereian’s behalf, guided the delegation, who were setting foot in Deltia’s territory for the first time, through various parts of the Underwater Palace. Of course, the Deep Sea Palace and Coral Palace, being royal spaces, were excluded from the tour.

Irene glanced at Rupel from behind Sipri. It had been a while since she had seen him after he left for the port city, and he looked unfamiliar.

Rupel also seemed aware of Irene, and even as he listened to Sipri’s enthusiastic explanations, he would occasionally meet Irene’s eyes and smile.

‘He’s still the same.’

Though his body had grown, Rupel hadn’t changed at all. From the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at Irene, to the way the corners of his lips curled up pleasantly. Unlike Ian, who had changed completely, he was the same.

Even though it had been quite a long time since they had last met, he felt as familiar as if they had seen each other just yesterday.

Sipri, sensing the undercurrent between Irene and Rupel, cleared his throat and introduced the delegation to their assigned quarters for the last time.

“We will be at your service here from today onwards.”

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