Garden Of Poison-Chapter 245: To the whistle

Music Recommendation: I hate this place - Azure

—

Emily watched Raylen as he spread his arms out on the back of the bench, allowing his head to fall back with his eyes closed, as if reminiscing about the horrid memory he shared with her a minute ago. She had always thought her own mother was difficult, but at least she had never attempted to kill her. On the other hand, Raylen’s mother...

"Your mother was a truly terrible person," Emily whispered, and she saw him turn his head in her direction. As he slowly opened his eyes, revealing the striking blue hue in them, a faint smile formed on his lips.

"She was, but she was still my mother—the only one I have ever known." Raylen’s tone remained nonchalant. "Are you feeling sorry for me, my Princess?" He detected a hint of pity in her gaze.

One would think that Raylen, being the Queen’s firstborn child, whom she had fervently prayed for, would have received her unconditional love. But it had been quite the opposite once she had given birth to other children with her husband.

"I do."

Emily’s unwavering gaze didn’t deter Raylen from continuing to look at her. She felt an ache for him at the thought of the harrowing ordeal he had endured at the hands of his family and others who had tried to kill him.

"I do, too." A smile cracked on Raylen’s lips, and it was only at that moment that Emily realised the unintended implication of her response. "Considering we are in a place that was once a church, we should be married now."

Emily’s cheeks turned pink at his words, and she responded, "’I do’ can mean a lot of things without prior context. My answer was in response to the question you asked." Really, though, this archdemon always liked to tease to lighten the serious atmosphere.

"A pity." Raylen clicked his tongue, lowering his hands to his sides and raising his head upright. He turned his body so that he could face her, his gaze fixed on her in the warm glow of the candlelight, watching her stare back at him with a softened heart.

"Why were you accused of murders?" Emily asked him. "Did you ever find out who was responsible?"

Raylen shook his head and said, "No. I never knew who was behind it. But after I killed everyone who was eager to see me die, the murders stopped and never occurred again. I would like to believe I was framed."

A prince framed for murder? Emily pondered silently in her mind before voicing her question, "Do you think it was—"

"My mother?" Raylen asked her. "It is what I have believed until now, as she was concerned her husband and the others would condemn and shun her for what she had done. A bloody knife was planted in my room, along with robes soaked in the blood of the victims. But given the recent murders, I believe things never ended there."

"Did you ever offend anyone before you realised you were the Devil’s child?" Emily inquired. However, something about the way he played the piano told her that he had probably once been a man of few words but had gradually relaxed over time.

Raylen rubbed his jaw and admitted, "I think I offended more people after I realised who I was than before." Having always believed it was his mother’s ploy, he had never bothered to look further into the matter. But with past events beginning to resurface, he added, "There’s a possibility that your unwanted stalker and the one who framed me are linked."

Emily’s eyes widened at his words. "They are?" she exclaimed, and she heard him hum in response. She tried to wrap her mind around the implications. "So, that means the person has been searching for a Barter Soul since then?" And he hadn’t found one until now, and he had now targeted her.

"It does seem like a plausible theory," Raylen replied before continuing, "but until we catch the person, we don’t have any certainty. It seems I have a secret admirer."

If the person was that old... it would mean that they were a demon, wouldn’t it? To live through aeons and reappear now, Emily mused to herself.

She asked, "The potion that you mentioned earlier—will it work?"

"It should, considering it comes from the Devil’s collection. There are many useful things in his closet, one of which allowed me to prevent him from appearing out of the blue," Raylen explained as his eyes twinkled. He softly chuckled as a thought crossed his mind and said, "Whoever attempted it, I don’t think he expected me to survive."

The coward must have realised that it was pointless to lock horns with him directly, knowing that he would likely overpower and kill the individual. Raylen pondered the identity of the demon hiding in the shadows, someone who probably hadn’t anticipated Emily crossing paths with him.

"Anyway, your brother must have already sent his imp to fetch the potion. This way, we start from the castle and gradually spread it outward, making it more challenging for anyone to trespass," Raylen assured her, and Emily gave him a nod.

"Okay," Emily whispered, and when she shivered, she drew her coat closer for warmth. She continued, "I think I now understand why one would want to burn the faces in the portrait. Were your siblings equally bad?"

Raylen’s head tilted slightly to the side, and he shrugged. "In comparison... your sister Niyasa would be nothing before them."

"That bad?" Emily asked with a frown.

"So you agree that your sister is a menace?" Raylen murmured, one corner of his lips curling.

"It’s not that my family or I are unaware, but she is our flesh and blood. We hold onto the hope that one day she will learn from her mistakes," Emily replied, her lips pursing at the end.

"Who knows, perhaps she is," Raylen replied with a saint-like smile, causing Emily to regard him with suspicion. He stood up from the bench and said, "My siblings had to die before my mother, before it was her turn. You would think that someone summoning the Devil would be aware of the consequences."

Even though Raylen’s mother hadn’t shown him mercy and love, Emily could sense the deep love he held for his deceased mother. Curious, she asked him, "Did you have a chance to meet her after that?"

"In Hell? No," Raylen replied nonchalantly, though his gaze seemed distant. "I think I am content visiting the grave. She’s quieter that way." Changing the subject, he inquired, "How is your heart doing now?"

Emily placed her hand on her chest, beneath which lay her heart. She replied, "It’s still beating." Rising from her seat, she straightened her dress by dusting it off and then added, "Thank you for bringing me here." Despite the horrid memories this place held for him.

Raylen didn’t respond but only gazed into her beautiful hazel brown eyes. Slowly, he extended his hand towards her and saw her look at him with a questioning expression.

Emily couldn’t help but wonder what Raylen was up to, and she quipped, "I worry that if I give you my hand, you’ll be planning the church’s next wedding steps."

"Still thinking about it?" Raylen grinned mischievously. "So am I. Your hand, milady."

Unsure of Raylen’s intentions, Emily raised her hand before placing it on his, and she noticed how small it looked against his. To her surprise, he didn’t grasp it. Instead, he turned it around so that their palms faced each other.

"King Raylen... You’re not thinking of dancing, are you?" Emily inquired sceptically.

"Is it strange?" Raylen asked in a serious tone, his other hand coming to rest on her lower back as he took a step closer.

"Everything about you is strange," Emily murmured. "There’s no music, and we are..." In a place where he had been set on fire.

"Unfortunately, I didn’t have a mother who hovered around me to make me normal." Raylen’s voice was as gentle as the wind that rustled outside the church, where the snow had started falling once again.

"You are free to take mine if you want to," Emily stated with a faint smile.

"You never know. Maybe one day I will," Raylen said, leading her into the quiet and open space.

The archdemon’s words were far from subtle, and she wondered whether his confidence stemmed from the blood that ran through his veins or if he simply understood the effect he had on people, thought Emily in her mind, her eyes briefly lowering from him.

Emily also pondered whether Raylen desired to create new memories in this place to replace the haunting ones of the past. She would have never imagined dancing without music—not with him, at least. As they moved together in the quiet space, she heard the archdemon whistle a tune she had played on the piano the day before.

"Now there is music," Raylen remarked between his whistling, and Emily shook her head.

Emily realised how some lives were short, like that of her maid’s, and if her own heart failed to heal, she would follow that path too. And when that time came, she didn’t want to have any regrets.

When Raylen noticed Emily’s thoughts wandering, he took a step back and then smoothly twirled her before catching her in his arm. Their faces drew closer than before, and he could hear her breathing quicken.

Spotting a strand of her hair hovering in front of her eyes, Raylen brought his hand to her face. His fingers gingerly pushed the strand away and behind her ear, all while making sure not to let his fingertips graze her skin. And though he tried to hold back his thoughts and emotions, they slipped through his fingers as his claws instinctively came out, yearning to sink into and claim the woman standing before him.