༺ Eyes of a Dragon and the Human Heart (54) ༻
Organisms with thick and robust shells often shielded their delicate flesh within, a phenomenon not exclusive to biology. Upon closer examination, human psychology mirrored this concept.
The tougher the exterior, the more vulnerable and tender the interior.
The 5th Princess of the Empire, Cien, was no exception to this principle.
Her childhood was marred by numerous wounds. Being the possessor of the ‘Dragon Eyes,’ she could delve into the depths of people’s innermost thoughts, instilling an indescribable fear in others.
Each encounter left behind either fear or revulsion. Even people who had strong spirits found it challenging to endure such experiences.
Yet, she was just a young girl, just beginning to find her voice. How could she withstand such hostility?
Thus, invisible wounds festered within the princess’s heart, gradually shrinking her world.
Everyone around her harbored animosity and disdain, breeding an inherent distrust within Cien.
Perhaps it was an inevitable outcome. After all, peering into someone’s true psyche through the ‘Dragon Eyes’ revealed the ugliest depths of human nature. Cien often contemplated gouging out her own eyes to escape the repulsiveness she witnessed.
But that wasn’t all. Her misanthropy deepened, fueled by her ethereal beauty.
An aloof yet regal and exquisite woman was a prized rarity.
Men coveted such beings, while women simmered with envy. For Cien, who was forced to internalize these emotions akin to instinct, one truth became apparent.
Humanity’s essence was utterly repugnant.
The princess was thus left with no choice but to dismiss notions of ‘purity’ or ‘sincerity’ as mere fantasies.
At times, this realization plunged her into a painful loneliness.
No one treated her genuinely, just as she refrained from displaying her sincerity to others. Existing in such isolation was a desolate ordeal.
To make things worse, there was not a single exception to this rule.
Every relationship was built upon a foundation of deceitful emotions.
Even Irene and the Head Maid, both cherished by Cien, were not exempt. They attended to her out of self-interest, driven by their own agendas and ambitions.
Be it the lust for wealth, the thirst for prestige, or even carnal desires, everyone sought something from her.
No one treated Cien without ulterior motives. And it was this harsh reality that clouded her judgment on the day she first encountered Ian.
For Ian Percus was undeniably human.
And all humans were essentially bundles of desires. Hence, it was only natural to assume that Ian Percus also operated based on his cravings.
It was a straightforward deduction, one that Cien found nearly impossible to dispute.
Initially, she was somewhat perplexed upon encountering Ian.
Even with the ‘Dragon Eyes’, delving into Ian’s innermost thoughts proved elusive.
It was an experience she had not had for a long time, and was akin to her encounter with the Empire’s Sword Saint during her childhood. Yet, Cien remained steadfast in her belief in the inherent depravity of humanity, a belief reinforced by countless experiences.
Yet, the outcome she faced was the humiliation of being drenched with water.
For a while, the nightmare of that day tormented Cien’s heart with seething fury.
Nevertheless, facing Ian became somewhat more bearable after that incident. After all, she began to glimpse into his psyche, albeit dimly.
However, this did little to alter the dynamic between Ian and the princess. Even if Ian changed, Cien remained ensnared in the same oppressive world.
The young girl deliberately rejected and distorted the emotions displayed by the man.
To her, those emotions seemed insincere and scornful. Moreover, she abhorred the notion of anyone daring to pity her.
She did not want to return to those times once again.
She refused to regress to that past when she cowered in her bedroom, trembling at the thought of encountering anyone at all. She had resolved numerous times to sever ties with that weak, pitiable persona.
Perhaps that was why she bristled even more fiercely, determined to make Ian’s life a living hell. Though her efforts yielded little result, it served as a self-defense mechanism.
After all, the higher the expectation, the greater the disappointment.
His emotions were merely fleeting facades anyway.
It was merely a momentary triumph of altruism over desire. This mantra repeated within Cien’s mind countless times. She vowed never to believe, and this desperation fueled her excessive reaction.
Yet, the moment she faced the man in the tunnel, Cien’s thoughts ground to a halt.
How was this possible?
How could he endure such malice, such pain, without seeking anything in return?
It couldn’t be true. It was not possible. She thought it to be a lie.
However, as the Homecoming Festival began, her long-held assumptions were overturned.
As soon as she entered the tunnel, her trusted retainers fell under control, and those escort knights who remained unscathed exploded, pushing Cien’s sanity to its limits.
It was then that Mitram’s words pierced her mind like a sharp awl.
As more hidden truths unfurled, Cien’s mind began to piece together clearer answers. Yet, she clung to denial until the bitter end.
The weight of her crimes loomed heavy, and they were too burdensome for her to confront.
She had repaid Ian’s kindness with animosity, leading to a horrifying outcome. The promising knights met their demise, and the princess herself faced mortal peril.
If Mitram’s words held any truth, how could she ever lift her head in the presence of that man?
Even in death’s icy grip, she would be forced to hang her head in shame.
Thus, Cien found herself engulfed in despair.
That is until the very man she had silently scorned and insulted appeared.
Blood flowed like rivers.
It was just before Mitram was going to gouge out Cien’s eyes, a thunderous boom reverberated, and both of Mitram’s arms fell to the ground.
It was Ian Percus. He had come to rescue the princess.
Despite enduring the humiliation of having her head trampled on afterward, the tears Cien shed were not solely for that indignity.
Each of Mitram’s venomous words had cut deep, inflicting wounds too painful to bear.
But that wasn’t all. When the Dark Priest demanded Ian leave Cien behind, deep down in her heart, she agreed with that assertion. After all, it felt too shameful to seek help after all the disdain she had shown.
Yet, even as she herself thought that, the man ultimately saved Cien.
His body was an utter wreck. When he slapped Cien’s cheeks, her tearful apologies pouring forth, she was jolted into a state of clarity and relief.
In that moment, she almost wished he had thrashed her senseless.
At least then, she could claim to have received her just punishment. But Ian did not grant her that wish.
Instead, amidst the chaos of the collapsing tunnel, he spoke with a bitter smile.
“…I’m glad you’re alive.”
It was the first time Cien experienced someone’s genuine sincerity.
Not even a sliver of desire was visible. Had Ian truly been driven by selfish desires, he wouldn’t have prioritized her life in a situation where he was bound to lose his own.
So, that is how it is. The realization washed over her,and burst into tears.
‘Sincerity’ did exist in this world, genuine and unadulterated. And it was right before Cien’s eyes. But by the time she grasped this truth, it was already too late.
After all, the tunnel was collapsing as it continuously shook.
Despite the influence of the anesthetic, the Princess still begged as she cried.
“I-Irene… W-We have to s-save Sir I-Ia..”
“…I apologize, Your Highness. But we cannot let Sir Ian’s sacrifice be in vain.”
Irene’s voice cracked with emotion, struggling to restrain her tears. The princess could only weep, blaming her own body that refused to obey her no matter how hard she tried.
No. No. This is the first time I’ve found it. The first time I found him.
The one person who treated her without any façade. The only ‘genuinity’ in my life.
Memories of the past sliced through Cien’s heart like a knife. Why hadn’t she understood just a little sooner? That the man she had despised so vehemently was her only lifeline??
But regret always arrived too late, no matter how swiftly it came.
As Irene managed to hurl herself out of the tunnel, a deafening roar erupted, followed by an avalanche of dirt covering the entrance.
It felt as though a gravedigger was burying a corpse, piling on heaps of soil with abandon. Cien’s eyes brimmed with despair as she watched.
Unable to bear the agony, the young girl continued to pound her chest and wail even after a long time had passed.
Irene’s expression also darkened.
She was partly to blame for Ian’s death.
Her inadequacy as an escort knight meant that the life of her master relied on the mercy of others.
Thus, Irene could only clench her teeth and hang her head, blaming herself for failing to honor his final moments as a true knight.
The news of the man’s rescue from the tunnel by chance arrived several hours later.
