He moved that the assembly begin discussing what to do with the kingdom in the event that they had no king—and last of all, he shot a meaningful glance at Crusch. Perhaps he was expressing his gratitude for her being the first to support him. But she didn’t see it; she had already collapsed into her seat.
With things the way they were, she wouldn’t be able to drop in on Fourier. She had become so constrained by her noble duties that she didn’t even have time to see him. She couldn’t let this precious, limited time go to waste. That was what she told herself even as her duty compelled her to remain at the meeting.
3
“…Crusch, is that you?”
Crusch was somewhat surprised to see Fourier open his eyes as he sensed her entering his room. She had tried to walk as quietly as possible so as not to disturb his sleep. Not only could he tell someone was there, but he had even known who it was.
“You surprise me, Your Highness. I have the sense there’s nothing I can hide from you.”
“And…perhaps there isn’t. That’s simply how well we know each other. Even with my eyes closed, even in the depths of sleep, I know it’s you… It’s been some time. Have you been well?”
“I’ve been terribly busy, but my health is fine. Your color looks good today, Your Highness. That’s a relief.” Crusch sat in a chair by the bed and studied Fourier’s face.
Her last visit had been only a few days earlier, yet he seemed even thinner now. And Fourier had never been the beefiest person around. He was through burning fat; now his body was consuming itself. His cheekbones stood out slightly. It was impossible not to see how the disease was ravaging him.
“Crusch…I want to…feel your touch.”
“Yes, Your Highness. With your permission.” She gently reached under the sheets and took Fourier’s trembling hand. His fingers had always been slim, but now they were despairingly frail. She rubbed the palm of his hand and interlaced her fingers with his.
“Ah. The touch of your fingers is pleasant,” he said. “A woman’s hand.”
“Your Highness’s hand feels rather thin, for a man. One would never think you had practiced so long with the sword.”
“The sword… Yes, the sword… I suppose I’m the only one who could possibly best you. Though I’ve neglected my training for many days now.”
“Your Highness would surely recover from a few days of rest before long. Though they do say that it takes three days of work to make up for one missed.”
“Are you telling me to work three times as long as I’ve rested…? Merciless!” And then, like so often before, he fell into a fit of coughing. Crusch hurriedly turned him on his side and rubbed his back gently until it passed. His breathing was so harsh, and his back seemed so small.
“Ah, yes, what about…? What about the Argyles? And Ferris? Is everything going well?” When Crusch said nothing, Fourier spoke as if a thought had just occurred to him.
Feeling saved by the change of subject, Crusch nodded and said, “Yes. Thanks to Your Highness’s good offices. I’m glad to say what occurred at the Argyle estate hasn’t gone beyond the few of us. The deaths of Ferris’s mother and father are being called an accident. So Ferris—”
“Can safely inherit the Argyle name. Good. That’s good. He may say he doesn’t want it, but he can’t throw away everything he was born to. He mustn’t.”
“Do you think he’ll be able to accept it?”
“Of course—he is my friend, and your knight, after all!” Fourier half turned to her and smiled, showing his teeth. He almost coughed again, but he forced it down into his throat. It caused his eyes to water, but he kept smiling. Seeing it, Crusch found herself unable to form any words. But she mustered all the strength she had to smile back.
This had never been a particular talent of hers, but Fourier often wanted to see her smile.
“Mm… I knew…your smile was…beautiful.”
She shouldn’t have left all the good cheer to Ferris. She should have at least learned how to make herself smile. Crusch tried to live life without regrets, but this one thing she dearly wished were different.
4
Over the past several months, Ferris had found it increasingly hard to believe that he was one of the Knights of the Royal Guard. He had been going to the healers’ academy to check on the royal family members, and to nurse Fourier. How was any of this the work of a knight? It seemed a lot more like what a spell caster of the Royal Academy of Healing would do.
“The third prince passed away last night. That’s the seventh person…”
Another one had gone, all the healers’ efforts in vain. Ferris didn’t want to hear the name of another dead royal, but at the academy the news was going to reach him whether he wanted it to or not.
Seven victims, and still they didn’t know the cause of the disease. All they had learned was that once the patient developed a fever and became comatose, they were beyond help. All this, and just one worthless grain of knowledge.
“—”
Grieved, Ferris left the king’s sickroom after another day of trying various curative magics to no effect. He had always regarded this place with awe, but after spending so much time there, he no longer felt anxious about it. His initial emotion, something like a holy terror, had long ago given way to a sense of powerlessness.
Ferris carried a black book as he walked through the halls of the royal castle. It was covered in blood and fingerprints. It could have been called, in some sense, a gift from his father.
The Sacrament of the Immortal King…
A secret spell developed by a witch that could resurrect the dead, granting corpses the power to walk again. His father had not been able to replicate the spell successfully, but if it could be done, even those who were gone could be saved…
“His Highness… If anything happens to His Highness…”
Ferris thought of Fourier, who grew thinner and more infirm by the day and, not for the first time, pictured himself getting the sacrament to work. Fourier’s death, among all others, was not one he could simply turn away from.
He would need a miracle to save the fourth prince. And he never seemed to get a miracle when he asked for one. The sacrament was the only other thing Ferris could think of.
When he entered Fourier’s sickroom, the bedridden prince laughed weakly and said, “Ferris, the makeup worked beautifully. Crusch thought my color was good… Ha-ha, we sure pulled the wool over her eyes. She’s so trusting.”
The makeup was something Ferris had applied so Fourier’s pallor would look healthier. Fourier had begged Ferris not to let him look bad in front of Crusch when she came to visit. Ferris was painfully aware that this had nothing to do with Fourier’s pride but instead his consideration for Crusch.
Ferris said nothing. Fourier spoke as if he could read the boy’s mind. “Nothing…troubling you with the knights, Ferris? Don’t forget to lean on your friend… Yes, on Julius. You try to take on too much by yourself sometimes.”
There were times these days when Ferris wasn’t sure who was comforting whom on these visits.
“My… My friends. You, Your Highness… You’re my only friend. Aren’t you? So when you aren’t feeling strong, I end up…by myself.”
“Certainly…not. Don’t worry, Ferris. You’re kind, and at heart you are strong. Everyone loves you…and will befriend you, as I have. I may have been your first friend, but you needn’t let me be your last. Remember this: Don’t force yourself to be alone.”
“Your Highness…”
Why was he talking like this, like this was the end? It wasn’t the end. And how could he seem so attuned to what Ferris was feeling? Fourier’s words had held real power lately. Not worldly power, but the piercing power of truth. It made Ferris afraid.
“Your Highness…! Your Highness, if anything happens to you…I’ll…”
“Bring me back to life? Please, don’t say such things.”
“—”
Fourier had read him like a book. He
was lying on his bed and couldn’t have seen the tome in Ferris’s hand. Yet he had guessed exactly what Ferris had in mind and refused it.
“I am me, you understand. My life began when I began, and it should end when I end. For it to go on after I end—that isn’t right.”
“But…but why? Is it so strange that I want you to live? That I want someone who’s so important to me to be alive?”
Only as Ferris voiced the words did he realize they were exactly the same as those his father had babbled beside the corpse of his mother. If not word for word, then at the very least the spirit was identical.
“Don’t lament, Ferris. Your heart is precious. Be proud of your abilities… You have the kindest power in all the world. Count not the wounds you couldn’t heal, but the things you were able to save. Don’t try to look back all the time while you’re walking forward… I won’t allow it.”
“Your Highness…”
Slowly, so slowly, Fourier sat up in his bed. He had wasted away so much that he could no longer stand under his own power, but he wanted Ferris to see the spark of life burn within him. The scarlet eyes regained some measure of their former strength.
“And anyway,” he went on, “I may yet best this thing. I’m… Yes. I’m your friend, and the fourth prince of the Kingdom of Lugunica. I even defeated Crusch in a sword battle. A little illness should be a…walk in the park.”
Fourier raised his hand and gave Ferris a gentle tap on the forehead. His touch was so light, but his finger was warm.
“Don’t abandon your duty as a member of the royal guard… It was I who had you assigned as Crusch’s knight. Don’t betray the vow we made to each other. The promise we made…as friends.” Drawing long breaths, Fourier smiled again and lay back down on his bed. “I’ve grown tired with all this talking. But I was able to smile with you for the first time in a long time. That’s good.”
Ferris hadn’t smiled. All he had done in front of Fourier that day was weep. But Fourier never spoke wrong. What he said sometimes sounded mistaken, but always turned out to be true.
“It was fun, Ferris.”
So Ferris did everything he could to work his frozen cheeks into a smile.
“Right. This was fun, wasn’t it, Your Highness?”
5
—The day was clear, but a breeze put a chill in the air.
“Crusch…I’d like to go outside for a while. Could you lend me your hand?”
“Of course, Your Highness. If you’ll excuse me…”
“Oh! Carrying me yourself? Ha-ha! You are indeed a strong woman. I’m surprised again.”
In the courtyard garden of Lugunica’s royal castle, a profusion of seasonal flowers bloomed. But in the bustle and anxiety of the past several months, the colorful flora had found themselves rather lonely.
“Well, it’s nice without a crowd. All the better to appreciate the blossoms—you can see them so much more clearly. Don’t you think?”
“So you can. Your Highness is always so good at finding the bright side of things.”
“I am, aren’t I? I know quite a few good sides of you and Ferris, as well. In that, at least, I won’t be bested by Meckart.”
Crusch knelt in one corner of the garden, letting Fourier rest his head on her knees as the breeze drifted over them both. Fourier half closed his eyes sleepily, the garden floating in his fuzzy vision.
“You and I used to come here when we were young to view the flowers. Do you remember, Crusch?”
“I remember. I would accompany my father to the castle, and when I got bored, I would always come here…and you would always meet me. It was comforting to my childish heart.”
“The first time I saw you…”
“I’ll never forget it. You came tumbling out of the sky! I was shocked.”
Their conversation about the past began to blossom.
Crusch smiled as she remembered, but Fourier shook his head gently.
“You’re mistaken, actually. The first time I saw you was before that… I caught sight of you in this garden, from a distance. You were examining a young bud.”
“…I didn’t know. How embarrassing.”
“Hardly. I was taken with you immediately. My heart beat faster, my cheeks got hot, and all I could do was stand there and look at you. After that, I would always look for you… Truth be told, our meeting was no mere chance. Heh-heh. I’ll bet you were surprised.”
“Yes, very much so.”
Fourier’s eyes crinkled, and his teeth showed as he laughed.
Crusch ran her fingers gently through the golden hair that rested on her knees, patted the pale cheeks tenderly.
“On the subject of surprising you, allow me to confess the awesome plans I have for the future…”
“Yes, Your Highness. Please, surprise me again. Please tell me.”
“Very well. Listen closely. I… I intended to make you my queen.”
“—”
“I would make you my queen, and Ferris would be our knight. And then—then three of us could always be together. It would be cause for contentment like no other. What do you think of that?”
“You… You certainly do know how to surprise me…”
Crusch found her voice catching, discovered she couldn’t look at him.
Fourier, the gentle smile still on his face, listened closely to the note of joy in her voice.
“We’ve…been through quite a lot, haven’t we? I so desperately wanted your attention… Heh! It led me to put you and Ferris to a great deal of trouble.”
“…Your Highness. It was never a burden to do what you…”
“Tell me, Crusch… How did I do?”
“Your Highness?”
“Was I able…to be a Lion King worthy of your devotion…?”
“—”
They’d made a promise, once. They’d sworn by the pieces of the days they’d filled with laughter.
Crusch’s breathing grew strained at Fourier’s question.
“Your devotion was…precious,” he said. “Something I cherished. Don’t… Don’t ever forget that.”
Fourier smiled as if he were somehow proud of himself and raised his hand. He brushed Crusch’s cheek, touching the hot tears that flowed down it, and traced his fingers along the line of her lips.
“Crusch.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“I…lo…”
“—”
There came a gust, a cold wind that tugged at Fourier’s and Crusch’s hair.
“Your Highness?”
“—”
“Your Highness, are you tired?”
“—”
“Your Highness, I know how you’ve worked and struggled. Please, rest peacefully.”
“—”
“One last thing…”
The breeze continued to blow. But with her blurring vision, Crusch didn’t see it, not even with her blessing. There, in the garden, Crusch held Fourier close and whispered.
“I wish I could have seen the future you dreamed of…”
6
The cruelty of it was that the death of Fourier Lugunica was treated almost as an incidental detail in the face of King Randohal Lugunica’s passing.
The assembly was all that was left now, shrouded in depression now that its worst fears had been realized. Crusch, for her part, was plunged into a sense of loss and apathy. Fourier had been such a crucial presence to her that losing him was as much a shock and as much a torment as losing half her body.
Even now, when she closed her eyes, she could see his last smile. The image of him taking his final breaths was burned into her memory.
And at the last, the feelings he had been unable to finish confessing had vanished into thin air.
“—But we cannot sit around looking sad forever.”
Miklotov was the first to cut through the thick atmosphere. The old sage looked each of the downcast nobles in the face, trying to rouse them.
“…That’s right,” someone said. “This i
sn’t the time. His Departed Majesty would be sorry to see us this way.”
There was a chorus of agreement. The sentiment spread, and Crusch found she had no choice but to look up and force herself to smile. To remain there with her head down would be the ultimate betrayal of what Fourier had wanted.
—She pictured his smiling face, remembered how he had always tried to look on the bright side.
“The royal bloodline has ended. We have lost our pact with the dragon. There can be no greater tragedy for the Dragonfriend Kingdom of Lugunica.”
With those words, the image in her mind shattered.
Crusch looked up, doubting her own ears, while someone in front of her clutched his head.
“How can the entire royal family be gone? What will the dragon do? If we lose our pact, it will be a catastrophe for our nation. What with our relations with the Empire and the Holy Kingdom being as poor as they are right now…!”
What is he talking about…?
“There’s also the issue of the preserved dragon’s blood. There is always the possibility that its return will be sought. To guard against this, we may see fit to go ahead and use it…”
What are any of you talking about…?
Crusch stared blankly as she listened to the grim-faced attendees deliberate. Everything they were talking about came back to the question of what the dragon would do now that the royal family had been extinguished. The Kingdom of Lugunica had been under the dragon’s blessing, saved from crisis more than once by the creature. Their fear was valid; Crusch was as aware as any of them that they were reliant on the dragon. But was that really the first thing they should be lamenting?
If they had wanted to debate the future of the kingdom, that would have been fine. If they had been worried about negotiating with other countries now that the king was gone, she could have forgiven them. But discussing how to manipulate the dragon—was that really the first thing on their minds?
The Dream of the Lion King Page 20
