Subliminal Wayfarer

“Back then… Haa, trying to kill Dullan and continually failing…”

Carynne spoke to Raymond, who had buried his face in her chest, making her tremble with pleasure even as they conversed. There was no hesitation in their physical union. Raymond moved slowly and continued speaking.

“I looked into various accounts after you died.”

“Did you find anything?”

“Like you mentioned before, there’s such a legend saying that it’s passed down maternally. But they were orally transmitted and not recorded anywhere, so it’s hard to consider them authentic sources. There’s no leading family, and the stories varied too much.”

“So, the cycle ends with childbirth…? Ah, it hurts.”

Carynne gripped Raymond’s hair as she winced in slight pain, but even that pain transformed into pleasure. Raymond’s groans grew rougher.

After calming down a bit, they continued their conversation more seriously.

“The lineage wasn’t from this country but from beyond the White Mountain Range.”

“Hmm, really?”

“Yes, supposedly a saintess is born in each generation. The legend says that they atone for humanity’s sins through death and give birth to the next sacrifice.”

“That’s so simplistic that it’s infuriating.”

“The stories essentially boil down to that. But they’re too ancient and not well-organized.”

Indeed, if Carynne could have borne children quickly, she might have just passed everything to the next generation and ended it all with that simple explanation.

The stories of Carynne, Catherine, Carla, and countless other women in their line weren’t meant to be shared with others. Their memories don’t transfer, only repeat in their offspring.

 

But how did Raymond remember?

Carynne pondered this as Raymond climbed off her.

And shortly after, she forgot about it.

 

* * *

 

Indulgent yet diligent days continued.

“I really want to go out to the garden today.”

“Dress up properly, then.”

“Yes, yes.”

Carynne finally layered herself in clothes, acknowledging her civility. For too long, she hadn’t worn clothes, or only wore thin garments. She turned her back to Raymond as she dressed in the clothes Verdic had left behind.

“Don’t tighten the corset too much, just tie the knot.”

Perhaps there might be a child in her womb now.

Carynne swallowed the rest of her thought. Even to her, it seemed like a fanciful idea.

But despite their frequent intimacy, Carynne’s body showed no change.

 

* * *

 

Time passed, but there was no physical transformation. Carynne and Raymond’s conversations were less in words and more in pleasurable moans. If that could be considered conversation.

“…It’s already autumn.”

“The garden will look wonderful in winter.”

“You hardly ever look at the garden.”

“I did enjoy snowball fights. Never cared much for flowers, though.”

Raymond handed Carynne a fur shawl, saying this. It was too early for such a thick garment, but she draped it on, appreciating the gesture. Then she linked arms with Raymond.

“I’ve never seen snow falling over this place.”

The Tes Manor was located in a warm region, so its winter was very short. Carynne had never spent a single winter here.

She looked up at the clear autumn sky, imagining a snowy landscape. It would undoubtedly be beautiful.

It would be lovely to see a child running around in such a place.

Carynne found it hard to imagine herself as a mother, but the thought of having a child didn’t seem so bad.

“Sir Raymond.”

“Yes, Carynne?”

“I’m curious about something.”

When Raymond responded, Carynne looked up at him and asked.

“What was it like for you after I died?”

Carynne had always wondered about this. She knew nothing of Raymond’s future after her death. For her, she would wake up the next day in the rain-soaked garden, as if nothing had happened.

What life did Raymond lead after her death? Revenge? Suicide? It couldn’t have been suicide—he said that he had a long lifespan.

So, what did he do? Carynne had always been curious.

“The truth is, I lived well even after you died.”

Raymond said, looking down at her with a smile.

“……”

Carynne felt a mix of emotions and loosened her grip on his arm.

“I really did.”

“There’s no need to say it again. I’m envious.”

“Keep being envious. That way, maybe you’ll live longer than me and have your revenge.”

His playful laughter blended with the wind.

Time passed.

And that day continued to approach.

 

* * *

 

Carynne lay in bed.

Wrapped in Raymond’s arms, she felt warm and sleepy. Was the laundry done yesterday? She suddenly thought of this, smelling a faint scent of soap. A tingling sensation, like being in water. She moved her fingers. They still responded. Carynne looked out the window. Leaves were falling.

She thought about what a terminally ill girl might say.

‘Will I die once those leaves fall?’

Would Raymond laugh or cry if she told him that? Could they laugh together at death, considering it’s not a big deal for them? Or would they cry again at the thought of dying?

Carynne shook her head, dismissing the thought as a dull joke. She preferred to hear someone else’s story than tell her own.

“Tell me a story.”

“…Carynne.”

“I’m sleepy.”

Raymond pondered which story to tell. He had to say something, she wanted it. After a moment, he spoke.

“I don’t know what kind of story would be good.”

Carynne looked at him disapprovingly, then started herself.

“Well… I’ll tell you one instead then. Honestly, I’ve been with many men.”

“What are you saying now.”

Raymond responded bleakly. Carynne asked again. It seems people become curious about everything when death approaches. She couldn’t bear not to ask.

“So, after I died… did you live well with another woman?”

Carynne opened her eyes to an unfamiliar emotion.

Even after opening up about her own circumstances, she hadn’t dared to ask Raymond the same. But now, she was curious about everything.

Until now, Carynne never felt possessive over Raymond or other men. To her, they were, no matter how dazzling, merely characters in text. Meaningless, brief encounters.

Yet now, Carynne felt jealousy. It was a base emotion for someone whose life was independent of hers. But Raymond took Carynne’s feelings in stride, unfazed and at ease.

“Carynne, as I said before, I really did live well after you died.”

“In the midst of all this… that’s… great for you.”

So comfortable, so easy.

Carynne’s voice grew soft. She didn’t know Raymond’s future, his life after her death.

Raymond looked amused at her expression, chuckling softly. Carynne didn’t like his laughter but didn’t want to retort either.

She didn’t want to hear about other women, but seeing Raymond’s amused face made her even less inclined to speak.

“But isn’t that good? You don’t have to feel guilty about me.”

“Oh, wow. What a relief.”

Who should feel sorry for whom? Carynne’s tone was sharp, prompting Raymond to ask again.

“Why are you upset about me living well?”

“Can’t I be?”

Carynne’s face looked displeased.

Jealous.

Envious.

The thought that he lived well even after her death was bitter. She should be purely happy about it, but her heart still felt this way.

Did she wish for him to live miserably forever after her death? At least he could have pretended so. Carynne felt uncomfortable.

Did she want Raymond to be ruined? But the Raymond in front of her seemed already far removed from his past self. Should she be happy about that?

She’s conflicted. And she felt slightly disgusted with herself.

Raymond, laughing in front of such a Carynne, eventually got hit.

 

* * *

 

It was late autumn.

Carynne’s death was approaching.

Her belly had not swollen at all.

Carynne and Raymond never talked about that day. They were unaware of the last of the last days.

But slowly, the assumption that it would happen again lingered in the silence.

It was time to talk about it.

Carynne spoke with a hint of resentment in her voice.

“I thought about a double suicide once.”

“…Carynne, that… What’s the reason for that?”

“You know, I’ve always wanted to kill you. At least just once.”

As Carynne said that with a bright smile, Raymond’s expression grew bleak.