If I Throw Myself into His Sea - Episode 2.21

Casting a contemptuous gaze, he abandoned Irene and manifested a teleportation spell.

Unlike Sipri’s, a chillingly crimson magic circle unfolded before Irene’s eyes, and his figure vanished in an instant.

As Irene blinked at the light, a tear clinging to the corner of her eye fell and trickled down her cheek.

“Hngh…”

Left alone in the spacious office, Irene sobbed mournfully. Even after crying for a long time, no one visited the office. It felt like she was endlessly being proven to be an outsider.

Irene struggled and hastily straightened her disheveled clothes. A throbbing pain remained on her thigh, exposed as the hem of her dress was lifted. The fair skin where Pereian had grabbed her was already reddened.

Composing herself, Irene left the palace like a criminal and walked.

“Oh dear…”

The servants strolling through the palace glanced at the queen’s tear-streaked face and murmured. Despite the outpouring of presumptuous pity, there was nothing she could do.

Irene simply wished for this walk to end. She wanted to arrive at the Coral Palace, which embraced her, and stay there as if dead, without receiving anyone’s pity or contempt. Just as Pereian had ordered.

From that day on, Irene forbade entry to the Coral Palace and locked herself in her residence. She confined herself and did not allow anyone to visit.

Rumors had already spread throughout the palace. The fact that the undersea king was mistreating the queen from the land had spread even to the envoys’ residence.

Pereian Richard did not suppress the rumors. He felt no reason or need to correct them. He handled state affairs as usual and occasionally received envoys.

The news that he was treating Irene harshly must have reached the envoys from Epin as well, but the other land dwellers, except for Rupel, did not shun him.

It was strange. Why don’t they shun me? Why don’t they keep their distance?

“Why don’t you keep your distance?”

“It seems the Princess, or rather, Her Highness the Queen Consort, has hurt His Majesty the King’s feelings.”

“Ah ha ha, I suppose it wasn’t something he could just brush off.”

The envoys’ attitude seemed to encourage Pereian’s coldness. The princess who was said to have received much love on the mainland. If they were envoys who had come to celebrate the marriage of such a woman, shouldn’t they be worried about marital discord?

At least, if they loved Irene Iphraim, they shouldn’t consume the rumors in that way. It was always Deltia’s share to be hated and ridiculed by the Epins, not Irene, their own country’s princess.

Was that why? When the dogs sent for the mainland princess tore her down with eyes devoid of loyalty, Pereian felt strangely irritated. He was always frustrated because he didn’t know the reason for their changed attitude. Unable to bear it any longer, Pereian threw a word into the envoys’ midst.

“Listening to you, it sounds like you’re looking down on Irene, strangely.”

“Yes?”

“I heard that my Queen Consort was quite loved by the King of Epin when she was a princess.”

“That, that is!”

“Didn’t the King of Epin order you to respect Irene Iphraim?”

“…We were just trying to take a neutral stance. Since we agreed to prevent scandals by handing over the princess, we must correct such things.”

The envoys explained how they were correcting his perception in Epin. So, the fact that Irene Iphraim was being mentioned lightly in their mouths was also the price of this marriage.

Pereian, who had burst out of the Jinju Palace in one breath, walked without giving himself a moment to catch his breath. He, too, had spoken ill of Irene.

He also wanted to prevent scandals and escape the perception of being a heinous monarch. But somehow, he didn’t feel comfortable. He felt awful pathetic.

The cunning voices of the Epin envoys, which poured out without fail whenever he visited Jinju Palace. The rumors about Irene that were spread through their mouths.

Each and every word of the envoys, which were endlessly ugly for someone who had been a princess of their country. It was all pathetic. It was a mess. Perhaps even more so than when he had vented his frustration on Irene Iphraim.

The looks in the envoys’ eyes as they mentioned Irene were still vivid. Why? Why can’t I forget it? Pereian withdrew his hand, which he was about to use to cast a teleportation spell out of habit, and lowered his eyes.

The pebbles, sand, beautiful corals, and the creatures swimming around them as if fluttering. It was a familiar environment to him, who had been born and raised in the sea, but he stared at them as if taking in a new world. And he slowly closed his eyes. In an instant, his vision went dark.

Pereian took advantage of the silence to constantly replay the envoys’ eyes. Eyes that snickered while mentioning Irene Iphraim. It was clearly imbued with disregard and contempt.

“Ah.” Pereian sighed briefly.

It wasn’t that the envoys’ eyes were particularly impressive and unforgettable. It was simply because he was used to that kind of look. The look he had received countless times when he was a child, the illegitimate son of a land woman, when he had rolled on the floor.

A feeling that was devoid of warmth, rather than pity and compassion, and a little heavier than ridicule. It was an eye that looked down on the other person as inferior and made fun of them.

The gazes he had received before ascending the throne were being sent by the land envoys to their princess. Pereian continued to question.

‘But why?’ Irene Iphraim was a princess of the land. He had heard she was a beloved princess. He had heard she was noble and virtuous. Her composed face reflected the life she had lived. Her flawless, clear face and straight posture made Pereian guess the colors of the world she had lived in.

But why. Not with eyes longing for the princess, nor with eyes filled with respect and affection, but with such eyes, did the envoys mention Irene in front of Pereian? It was too full of ridicule towards Irene to say they were deliberately being neutral to cover up a scandal.

It was all a mystery. Information about the second princess of Epin could not be found on Pereian’s end. He couldn’t tell if it was intentionally deleted or if there were no records in the first place.

Who the hell is Irene Iphraim? What are the princess and Epin trying to hide? He wanted to grab anyone related to Epin and ask, but he couldn’t trust anyone’s words. He didn’t know what the King of Epin, who had placed a silence spell on the princess sent to Deltia, might have done to others.

“I can’t figure it out.”

He can’t figure it out. Sighs kept coming out. Pereian opened his closed eyes and looked far in the direction of the Coral Palace.

“…”

He heard that Irene had entered the Coral Palace and had not come out. He also heard that she had stopped eating and drinking.

‘She must be in there.’

Pereian recalled the few emotions Irene had expressed. At first, she called him ‘Ian’ and acted affectionately, and later, after countless rejections, she often cried. She was Irene Iphraim, who expected him, was disappointed, and was frustrated by the harsh treatment and suspicion, yet couldn’t properly explain herself.

Pereian didn’t trust her because it was obvious that she was trapping herself in lies. He constantly pushed her away, trying not to leave even a shred of trust. In the end…

Pereian recalled the expression Irene had shown the last time he saw her. A face filled with shame. A face pleading with him not to cancel the event she had prepared, to let it proceed without incident. Then, despair again, like…

‘What kind of expression did that woman have at the end?’

He couldn’t remember. Or perhaps it was that he didn’t have it in his memory at all. Irene’s expression, it didn’t strike him as interesting in the slightest, so he averted his gaze without even trying to remember.

‘I don’t know.’ He didn’t know. The expression Irene wore. What she was hiding. Suddenly, a hypothesis came to mind. What if Irene Iphraim was, like himself in the past, a being who was despised? It was close to impossible, but this hypothesis lingered in his mind. If this hypothesis was correct.

‘What should I do?’ He had only sensed a strange undercurrent in the way the envoys treated Irene, and his hypothesis had no clear basis.

It was a simple hunch. His hunch, born from a past lived with sharp edges. Perhaps Irene, that woman, had a similar past to his own, he speculated. There was no way for Pereian to intervene. He couldn’t help Irene without even confirming the facts.

The thought, ‘Now, of all times?’ came to him first. As long as Irene was under a silence spell, there was no way to confirm the truth from her own lips.

Until she died, Pereian would never hear about her past. Now, for him, disregard and ignorance were in a realm of coexistence that went beyond a hair’s breadth of difference.

He had been ignorant because he had disregarded her, and because he was ignorant, he had no choice but to continue to disregard her circumstances, whatever they may be. “Irene.” Pereian called out the Queen’s name. It was definitely the first time he had called it without hatred.

Support If I Throw Myself into His Sea