Chapter 119: Devotion to Estia (1/2)

Chapter 119. Devotion to Estia

Translator: Atlas / Editor: Regan

“Are you going to ask Ishakan what his zodiac sign is?”

“Don’t talk nonsense, Haban.”

Haban quickly covered his mouth with one hand at Morga’s rebuke, hiding his smile. Morga ignored him and wiped away a cold sweat with the back of his hand. Normally he would have tormented Haban with various spells, but at the moment he was tense and preoccupied with something else. Carefully, he tied back his long hair before he entered the king’s bedroom.

In the furthest part of the room, a burly man sat on a wide bed, holding a small form wrapped in a thick blanket in one arm. In his other hand he held a pipe. He took a puff, slowly exhaling the smoke. The gray smoke filled the air, and though tobacco could influence a Kurkan’s nature, there was no hint of languor in his eyes. He was too agitated for it to affect him. His piercing golden eyes stared at Morga.

“Ishakan.” Morga bowed his head in respect.

“Morga,” the man said slowly, and Morga slowly raised his head. He recognized what Ishakan held so lovingly in his embrace. Wrapped in the white blanket was the delicate little Princess of Estia. From the look of her, it seemed she would melt as quickly as a snowflake, captured in the palm of a hand.

He stared at her. Though she was beautiful, she always attracted the eye strangely. He remembered when he saw her in the forest, her face as expressionless as a doll’s. Her purple eyes were beautiful, but expressionless. She had perfectly suited the gloom of the forest.

But that same Princess now slept so peacefully, her cheeks flushed. She didn’t look like the expressionless doll he had seen. She seemed like a different person. Looking at her slightly parted lips, Morga could understand why Byun Gyeongbaek was obsessed with her. If such an indifferent person could show a little kindness…

Oh, no.

Morga quickly shook away the thoughts that rose to his mind before he could filter them out. If Ishakan knew what he was thinking, he would tear him to pieces. And Morga did not want a pitiful or premature death. He had a great future as a sorcerer and wanted to live a long time as the chief of his tribe.

In his mind, he quickly listed twenty-five medicinal herb formulas in reverse order, and only when he was completely composed did he speak.