If I Throw Myself into His Sea - Episode 2.8

“…Those bastards dug up my past.”

At Pereian’s words that followed, Irene sighed briefly. When she first dealt with them, Irene had hoped that Pereian would never have to hear that conversation. She wished he would never know that others were carelessly gossiping about his past.

The fact that he had been listening from the beginning made Irene’s shoulders slump. She felt sorry above all else.

“I’m sorry.”

Hearing Irene’s apology, Pereian frowned even more and approached her. However, the distance remained unchanged as Irene backed away as he approached her.

Pereian, watching Irene move away as if avoiding him, stopped walking and said, “It’s not your fault.”

“I should apologize.”

Irene smiled bitterly and continued, “You’re always displeased with whatever I do.”

It was a situation where she couldn’t help but think that way. Pereian Richard had never liked Irene Iphraim’s actions, and he was often angry. Pereian couldn’t deny her words, and he only avoided her gaze.

He, who was uncharacteristically awkward in front of Irene, soon came up with an answer.

“You should have just left it alone.”

Irene waited for Pereian’s next words in silence. Pereian seemed to choose his words again, then led Irene out of the balcony.

Just then, a servant was passing through the hallway carrying wine glasses. Pereian stopped the servant, grabbed a glass as if snatching it, emptied it in one go, and said hollowly,

“…At least it wasn’t something you should have intervened in. Even I was just watching them.”

“……”

“Why didn’t you try to appease them with that frustrating face, like you do with me?”

The atmosphere froze for a moment at the frigid remark. Pereian glanced at Irene’s composed expression and put down his glass. His footsteps were moving busily again, as if heading somewhere else. Irene followed him, muttering,

“How could I do that…? They were badmouthing you right in front of me.”

How could she just let it go? Even if the subject of their gossip had been a complete stranger, Irene would have pointed out the nobles’ wrongdoings. How much more so when the person they were carelessly talking about was Pereian; it was impossible for her to appease them.

Pereian continued walking as if unconcerned by Irene’s appeal. He moved forward with endlessly long strides, as if he couldn’t hear his wife’s words.

The distance between them gradually widened. Irene, shortening the distance with hurried steps, shouted at Pereian’s back,

“Have you always just endured everything?”

It was a concern she had harbored as soon as she saw Pereian, who seemed unfazed even after hearing the gossip right in front of him. Irene continued to walk busily, maintaining the distance between herself and Pereian.

Her gaze fixed on Pereian, she recalled the gossip she had heard from the servants after coming to the underwater kingdom.

“His Highness didn’t even want the marriage.”

“So, she’ll be rejected.”

It was a memory that made her head throb just thinking about it. Gossip could never be something one got used to, so even Irene, who had been exposed to the cold treatment of the land, always found it burdensome.

But Pereian was different. He silently watched the nobles dredge up his past as if to mock him, and in the end, he chose to endure it. That fact weighed heavily on Irene. Perhaps even more so because she knew his past.

Pereian’s voice from her childhood seemed to dig through her memories and echo in her ear.

“Ruine, don’t just keep enduring. When you want to be angry, be angry, and when you want to cry, cry.”

It was an offer that he himself hadn’t kept.

‘Ian, have you been living while constantly enduring?’

It felt as if a lump of blood was gushing out from the depths of her heart. Pereian, noticing Irene’s reddened eyes as if she was choked up, placed his hand on his waist. Soon, a sighing voice broke the silence.

“…Follow me.”

Pereian beckoned Irene with his fingers a couple of times and then quickened his pace again. Irene followed him without even realizing where their destination was. At the end of the series of footsteps, he stopped at the stairs behind the banquet hall.

A space with few people and therefore dark. Reaching there, Pereian seemed familiar with the place as he settled down and sat on the stairs. Pereian, pointing to a spot about five spans away towards Irene who was staring blankly, cleared his throat.

As Irene sat down following his gesture that seemed to urge her to sit, an awkward atmosphere flowed down again.

“Why are we here?”

Irene couldn’t understand Pereian’s actions. He suddenly told her to follow him, and the place he abandoned the banquet for was such a secluded staircase.

Judging by the fact that there was no hesitation in his movements as he looked for the place, Pereian seemed to have visited this place often. While she was guessing as she waited for an answer, Pereian, stroking the mother-of-pearl decoration embedded at the end of the stairs, explained this place.

“It’s a staircase you can only find after wandering around several times. It’s also where I used to hide whenever I was scared.”

“Hide?”

“When I was young. When I felt like I was about to lose my breath from being beaten too much, I barely managed to escape and hide here.”

Irene, startled, turned her head towards Pereian. Her face was blank and filled with bewilderment.

“You heard it earlier. I didn’t live as delicately as you did.”

“……”

Irene’s eyes trembled incessantly. Even as he faced her wavering pupils, Pereian continued to speak silently. His voice held no lingering attachment, as if he thought there was no listener.

“I didn’t want to seem weak, so I never told anyone.”

His words were not a lie. Pereian had never told anyone about his past, about running away from the encroaching fear. Even to Irene, who thought she shared everything with Ian, this was something she had never heard before.

Irene averted her gaze from Pereian. Ian, who always grumbled as if it was nothing even after being assaulted, Ian, who always seemed so firm and strong, had been afraid of being beaten and ran away.

Even while fondly reminiscing about Ian until now, she had never once guessed that he might have done that.

“To no one?”

“Yes. Not even to the woman I promised the future to.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” “Because there was no point in telling you.”

The woman he promised the future to. Even at a glance, what he revealed was Irene’s story.

Support If I Throw Myself into His Sea