Chapter 4 3

Chapter 3

My father fell ill with a disease that weakened his immune system. He appeared pale and frail, seeming much older than his actual age. I didn't know the specific illness, and I didn't bother finding out. He resisted going to the hospital, wanting to avoid appearing weak. I didn't push him either. To him, his pride outweighed his own well-being.

I wasn't sure how to feel, having a dying father. Alter, Yucca, Sieg, and Enkidu looked concerned, waiting for me to break down. Should I? Is it expected for a child to cry and mourn for their parents? Can't someone like me, devoid of emotions, be allowed?

Truthfully, I felt a strange sense of relief.

"Is that for my father?" I asked Sieg when I saw him with a tray of food. It was only soup and some fruits. He was headed upstairs when I called out.

"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied.

"Allow me," I said. Before I could take the tray, Enkidu intervened and took it from Sieg.

"I'll carry it up to his room."

I simply nodded, opting not to argue. I didn't want to exert unnecessary effort carrying the tray up the stairs. It would be a waste of my energy.

Enkidu carried the tray as we headed to my father's room. We stopped at his door. I looked at Enkidu and motioned for him to give me the tray.

"I'll accompany you," he said. I could see the concern in his eyes, quickly replaced by understanding that I didn't need it. I didn't want anyone to worry about me.

I'm strong. I can fend for myself. They're wasting their time worrying about someone who can handle herself.

I glanced at Enkidu and smirked.

"My father is helpless, Enkidu. He can't harm me in any way." I took the tray from him. "He's useless now."

Enkidu sighed and opened the door for me. I wrinkled my nose at the repugnant smell emanating from the old man lying on the bed. I approached him and set the food tray on his bedside table.

I gazed at him for a few minutes. His eyes were shut, but I could discern the movement behind his lids. He was awake. He knew I was here, but he didn't bother to open his eyes.

I examined him from head to toe. He was so emaciated, resembling a skeleton. It was clear he was on the brink of death. He couldn't fight his illness any longer.

The corner of my mouth lifted. I couldn't believe the day had come when I'd witness him like this. So feeble and dying.

The proud man was powerless against his ailment, huh? Irony...

He always told me to be like him, to surpass his strength. To forget I was a woman, to stop crying when hurt. To act as though nothing and no one could break me.

But I suppose I failed. Because he still resented me. He was still furious that I was born a woman.

"Here's your food," I said.

His eyes slowly opened. He first stared at the ceiling, blinking several times, before finding me standing beside his bed, looking down at him.

Wow... It felt actually good. Maybe I'll come here every day just to see him like this. I don't have to look up to him anymore.

"You put a poison in it," he said, sounding so weak. I even thought he might breathe his last with those six words. So, to spite him and make him suffer more, I chuckled.

"Damn... That's a good idea. But sadly, I forgot to do it," I tsked. "Do you want me to go and get the poison?"

His breathing was ragged, and he looked at me with madness in his eyes. I didn't back down; I even smirked at him. Finally, I had my chance to humiliate him. Finally, I could let him know how much I despised him.

"You cold-blooded murderer bitch!" he hissed, but due to his weakness, it lacked intensity. The look in his eyes, however, conveyed the mutual animosity.

Hatred. Only hatred.

I waved a dismissive hand, as if he'd just made a casual remark. "Geez, father. I've heard those insults so many times already. Anything new?"

If he were stronger, I knew he'd hurt me without me saying a word. But fortunately, he was bedridden. He couldn't lift a finger without tremendous effort.

"You shouldn't have been born," he said. "You're a selfish bitch. You ruined all my plans!"

I tsked, thrice. "Too bad... I'm here, right in front of you. Alive and kicking! See?"

I spread my arms and twirled. The skirt of my dress followed my movements, and I chuckled when I stopped. I looked at my father, and I could tell that if he could move, he wouldn't hesitate to kill me right now.

I held the side of my skirt and curtsied in front of him. He glared at me with seething rage, but I relished it. The angrier he felt, the happier I became.

"Aren't I beautiful, father?" I said, smiling at him.

"I hate the sight of you," he said. "You shouldn't have been born. You're selfish, Ereshkigal! Even before, you were selfish."

I let go of my skirt and stood tall. The playfulness in my eyes had vanished. I looked at my father with all the seriousness I could muster.

"You're the selfish one, father. All you care about is your plan."

"Because it's the only way to defeat the EL Ordre!" he coughed, struggling to breathe. "I have a plan to finally win this game! And you? Do you really think that you can actually defeat them?!"

I lifted my chin, looking at him with pride. "Of course, I can. I have my own plan, as well."

He laughed, trying to insult me. "Can you, really? Your plans are useless, Ereshkigal! Even your mere existence is useless!"

My eyes darkened. I could say it affected me, but I tried to mask it, appearing elegant and intimidating.

I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him with intense rage. The corner of my lips rose, and I looked at him with disdain.

"Between the two of us, who do you think is the useless one now, huh?" I eyed him from head to toe. "You can't even stand up on your own to take a leak. That's why you smell so horrible."

He took a series of deep breaths. I knew he was ill. I knew I might be the cause if his condition worsened after this. But I didn't care. I'd had enough. I wouldn't allow anyone to look down on me again.

Not even him.

I turned away and walked towards the door. But he said something before I could reach the doorknob.

"Kill the King!" he screamed, struggling for breath. "Kill the King and win this game! That's the only way I can be proud of you. That's the only way I can acknowledge you as my daughter!"

I didn't expect tears to well up in my eyes. It's a good thing he couldn't see my face anymore. He'd know that even now, I still had the capacity to cry. So I immediately wiped my tears away.

"Kill the King, Ereshkigal! Bring back the honor of the Levitsky! Bring back the honor that they took from me!"

I left him, still screaming about the Levitsky's honor that the EL Ordre's King had taken from our family. My father was a man of immense pride. So, even now, he couldn't move on from what had happened in the last Bloody Human Chess game.

Because no one emerged victorious back then.

Three days after that talk with my father, he passed away. I didn't shed any tears. I didn't feel any pain or sadness. I was relieved. Finally, his reign had ended. I was the ruler now.

I thought I'd be free from my father's shadows and his quest for vengeance, but little did I know, I was inadvertently fulfilling his desires.

I asked Alter to prioritize finding information about the EL Ordre's King. They were adept at concealing their identities, to the point where even their own members didn't know each other's chess pieces.

That was absurd. The King should make his identity known and have everyone follow his orders. He held the authority. He should wield it!

And so, finding the EL Ordre's King became my obsession.

"Oh, my..." I murmured as I stared into those sea-green eyes. "You look so beautiful."

I approached him, unable to tear my eyes away from his face. I'd never seen anyone as striking as him. His sea-green eyes seemed to reach something deep inside me.

Loki Alexander Nimrod Von Amstel the fourth. The EL Ordre's King.

I raised my hand to touch his face. Oh, my God... He looked so perfect. I could hardly breathe properly with what I was witnessing.

It would be such a waste to simply kill this beautiful creature before me.

So I focused on his inviting lips. My breath caught when I caressed them and felt their softness.

"Your lips... They're so soft," I whispered.

Oh, God... My blood surged with excitement as I felt his warm lips against my thumb. I traced the outline of his lips with my fingers, and when he parted them, I couldn't contain my emotions.

"Kiss me..." I said.

I wanted it. I wanted him.

"Your Majesty, I want to taste your lips."