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Chapter: 108

Harold went to see his ex-wife, Marguerite, for the first time in about two years that winter.

Long time no see.

The man now lived quietly in a small detached palace by the old king's capital, Dalago.

It was actually the first time Harold had ever seen her face to face, even though he said he was going to see her once in a while.


I knew that meeting her more than necessary would not help each other anymore.

For Harold to look to the future, and for her to live in peace.

"I'm glad you're doing well."

"... you too"

With the memories of the last day of her separation and her indecisive appearance, she stood as the mistress of this small detachment and greeted Harold with grace.

For the past two years - I have been using trusted ministers regularly to keep an eye on them generously.

Surrounded by soldiers serving as both guards and watchmen and a handful of maids in a cold secluded palace in a lonely location.

Since that day, Marguerite had spent time in silence, not least with the outside world, in addition to occasionally sending letters to Harold and his former nobles.

Harold then turned to a desk built on the wall by the window in Marguerite's private room, which had been passed through.

Especially since she came without being informed of the visit, she seemed to have been writing just a while ago.A writing instrument is spread out on the desk.

"Do you still have this ink pot?"

What bothered me was a small ink pot.Made of ceramics and metal decorations, Harold certainly gave it to her when she married her.

Marguerite followed his gaze and smiled as if he had noticed.

"I've been using it all my life."

... Harold didn't realize that even when he lived in the royal palace with her.

"You were making a copy of the Bible.The ink is very expensive, but it's not diluted with water, so thank you for letting me use it luxuriously.It seems that my manuscript has a very good reputation in a nearby monastery. "

From the very beginning of her confinement, her homeland, Rotterdam, had just shouted out protests and had never offered Marguerite financial assistance.

As a result, it was Harold who now supported her life.

"Don't worry about that."

It wasn't Harold's intention to keep her financially distressed, though he kept her off the political scene.

While maintaining a constant distance, she regularly asked people around her to make reports, sometimes even insignificant, to use some of the ink and consumables of the writing without saving.

There wasn't much Harold could have done for her.

I didn't come to see you for a long time today to immerse myself in feelings.

I read your letter the other day.

Harold lowered his hips to a simple wooden chair placed indoors.

The clothed chair was made of cotton, and the comfort of sitting was not unexpected, but the chair made a murmured sound just by stepping on the center of gravity and kneading down.

"My opinion is as I told the messenger before."

Marguerite stood on the spot, smiling calmly at Harold.

The other day, she sent me a long letter about a petition.

The contents were intended to request to leave the house with the maids and hope to enter the monastery.

"Let's do whatever you want.- As long as I get to the new National Church monastery here in Aostaria. "

Harold raised his heavy hips and came to see her because he knew it wasn't just an exchange of messengers and letters.

"You want me to convert?"

Marguerite is from Rotland, a deep-rooted proselytism.She herself was a devout prosperous.

Marguerite had recently been formally pursued as queen of the country by a certificate of nullity issued by Pope Prospero.

"Yes, it is."

It is ironic to think that even such a betrayal does not shake her chest and that she relies on the abbey as a drawback.

"What will change if you convert?"

However, given the current state of state policy, Marguerite could not be admitted to the old Prosperonist monastery.

"It's just a different look. Faith doesn't change anything."

The doctrine of Australian uniqueness is not so important, and Harold is actually trying to establish a new national church doctrine while adjusting Pope Prospero so that the Church of Australian Nation itself cannot be regarded as a "heretic".

But Marguerite smiled funny as if she had heard something fun.

"What a shame. It's stupid in front of God. It's bullshit."

Harold tried to respond in a quiet tone.

"Yes, nothing changes in the presence of God.But one of those bullshit things can protect the reason of the world.... Marguerite, I can keep you safe in the future. "

When we broke up two years ago, everything was different in the surrounding environment and in the power relationship between the two.

Marguerite was essentially in a position to accept Harold's decision, and he probably knew it.

The Pope, who testified to Harold's annulment of his marriage to Marguerite, did not ask for Marguerite's identity to be returned to her country.

Her homeland, Rotrant, abandoned her.

It was clear that the country would rather evil the King and sister, who had lost their political use.

There may be various circumstances in one country, but there are few factions to put into Marguerite, who left her country at the age of nine, and perhaps there is no place for her tranquillity in a country where the political situation is unstable.

Marguerite, I want you to choose.

Marguerite, who left the country and said he wanted to enter the monastery, would understand the atmosphere of his country.

She was foolish to maintain her dignity as a former queen, and even to defend her daily life, she now had to rely on Harold's goodwill.

Show me a way to convince you.

Harold had to be extra gentle with Marguerite because he was no longer able to speak on an equal footing with her.

He didn't want his former wife and poor cousin to be put in a sadder situation than he needed to be.

- On the other hand, there was no concession.

It was a sign of Harold's tough stance, and it was a testament to the fact that he had set a compromise with her from the beginning, with as many hands as he could.

"Would you be happy if I converted and left?"

Harold didn't answer.

There are two ways Marguerite can choose now.Will you continue to live in this secluded house or convert to the National Church and enter the new monastery of the National Church?

Marguerite blinked slowly, tilting her neck slightly.

"What should I pray for when I become a nun?Nothing, there are no more hopes or challenges in this world. "

Her voice was much calmer, and for Harold, who lived in a busy royal palace, the time flowing through the detachment itself felt extremely dull and gentle.

"I wonder if such a person should serve God.Not someone as greedy as me. "

"Oh, have you become such a greedy person?"

Marguerite stayed the same as before, so Harold had the illusion for a moment that this was a room in the castle of the old capital where she had lived for a long time.

"Harold, what do you want?"

That's why he answered without being particularly discouraged.

I haven't told anyone before.

It was the truth I couldn't say.

"--I want to live as long as I can and keep seeing this country."

And then Harold smiled helplessly.I couldn't help but suppress my self-taunting feelings.

Marguerite is laughing funny again.

"That's a big wish. It won't be long."

Say terrible things. With the same face as Harold.

She didn't mean to curse herself.

"Hey, me and you.... my mother was already dead when she was my age.You may have completely forgotten to engage with healthy people.Do you really know what kind of blood is flowing through us? "

She and Harold probably don't have any immediate health concerns right now.

But the consciousness that he was born into a thin family was enough to make them aware of his potential.

"Every year when it gets cold, your body will hurt.It gets worse year after year, and there 'll be more days when I can't get up in the morning.Especially if you catch a cold, your breathing will be hard and prolonged.I've been strong since I was an adult, but I wonder how long it will last.Neither I nor you are young enough to make up for it with your strength. "

Let's see the face of our great-grandchildren together.

Belta can say that to her ten-year-old husband without any doubt.

As she sees such a future as a matter of course, she will not even think that it is a dream story for Harold.

'In the long run' - it was the strength of Berta and the cruelty of a human being born and raised in a healthy family that allowed us to be optimistic that Harold's reign would continue for a long time to come.

Marguerite would never tie Harold up with words like that again.

We must do everything we can for the future prince.And even though he himself was humbled with selfish darkness, and covered in mud.

--Anyway, it won't last long.

"Still, I'm a greedy man."

I understand how much that was a wish to me.

Still, Harold wanted to go with those who believed him.

"A little longer."

Someone who tied him up with kindness and strength and didn't really understand how much his presence saved Harold.

I wanted to see Harold as long as possible ahead of the path that Berta undoubtedly believes in.

That's my dream.

Marguerite finally looked surprised.

"What a dream... it's strange that you say that."

She, too, may have felt that the time already passed between Harold and me was completely separated.

Marguerite was accustomed to his modest life, but he didn't know that its beauty had faded so horribly.

Even if she stands in a quiet color in a life of poverty, she is sure to be beautiful enough to return to court society immediately.

But maybe her time was already closed.

"I'm a little jealous of you.I'm glad we met.I don't want to meet anyone like that anymore. "

Marguerite's blessing was sincere rather than rhetorical.

Everything that happens in her life from now on may only be a distant event for her.

She doesn't believe in the time left for herself in the first place.

"Hey, Harold."

Marguerite packed a few steps at once away from Harold, whom he had never tried to fill before.

He stood up from his chair when he took Harold's hand with a light movement like singing.

I felt warm from the touch of my fingertips, but my slightly rough hands were dry, which suddenly reminded me of her life now.

"Hey, just one last time before you become a woman to serve God.... what do you say, you laugh? "

Her answer seemed to have been decided from the beginning.

Get out of this seclusion and step up to Harold's forgiveness of the Australian National Church.Becoming a woman who serves God will certainly give her meaningful salvation for the rest of her life.

"I love you."

Her voice spinned the kind words that were once familiar to her ears.

The reason Harold came to this separation today was to settle her choices about her advancement and retirement.

With that decision, Harold stroked his chest, while thinking about how he would behave most moderately in the current situation.

"... I loved you, Harold."

I thought that if Harold did, Berta would not be angry.

Belta does not hold tall that she is a woman who has nothing to do with jealousy, nor does she think she will be harmed.

However, in a situation where no one could escape with an easy excuse, Harold eventually slowly hugged Marguerite's body in his chest.

After a long kiss, both the height difference and the feeling of the loosely hugging body were creepily familiar.

But the moment Harold put his strength into his arms with a clear intent, Marguerite was surprisingly large and familiar in his arms.


Vik, shivering herself, pushed Harold's chest to distance herself.The clap hit a chair nearby.

There is an audible noise that rubs the chair and floor.


In return, Marguerite may not have taken it seriously at all.

Or maybe she thought Harold would never ride.

"... you're so sweet. You're..."

Harold finally glanced closer at her face, then stepped back and took his hand off her body.

"I'm sorry for being so dishonest."

If Marguerite's expectations of Harold had been that she would not have listened to her words, she would have been disappointed.

"Thank you. That's enough."

Nevertheless, it's tidal time.

There will be no more conversations with her, and even if there is an exchange of letters in the future, there will be no more chance of seeing her in person when she enters the convent.

It won't be a lifetime farewell, but it wouldn't be strange if it did.

In this situation, Harold looked for a farewell word after his back hair was pulled through this period.

Marguerite smiled kindly to guide him, and gently tied his hand in front of his chest like a devout believer.

"May there be many blessings on your fate."

Her words were always sweet to my ears.

"--May everything you want be like that."

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