Day 23409 12:10 PM
“Errare humanum est, perseverare autem diabolicum”
— Lucius Annaeus Seneca
I am inside my study, my quill falling towards the thick carpet, a mess of notes, which were once a draft of my memoires, are scattered atop my desk.
I rise. Last time, I had to ask Mathias to inform me about Manuella’s whereabouts, but I know everything now.
“I am going to the pond garden,” I tell Mathias as I am leaving my study. “Tell the kitchen to prepare a light picnic meal for two. Fresh strawberries, cherries, lettuce, carrots cut into thin strips, and a lemon, roasted almonds and hazelnuts, tell them to grill and debone a fresh trout, but no salt. No wine or other alcohol, we will enjoy tea.”
“Yes, Sire. I will have a maid deliver it to you.” Mathias is confused, but rushes to deliver my orders.
I head to Manuella’s favorite garden, walking at a regal pace while my heart is trying to escape my chest. I pass the inner gate, and my gaze drifts to the side, where I notice the guards.
Right! There’s that too.
I head over to Faren and deliver the speech about his promotion and vacation. The action is mechanical, and I do not pay attention to his slack jaw and disbelieving gaze, knowing they would be there. Instead, I head over to Manuella.
While I struggle to suppress it, there is no force on this world able to remove the grin off my face. I watch my goddess in a daze as I approach.
“Are you well, Dear?” she asks, looking at me with worry while rising from the bench.
She is going to figure it out in a matter of moments, so I might as well say it. I hug her, leaning to whisper into her ear.
“I have returned. You died of a heart attack, two weeks from now.”
She shudders, then says the same thing she said the last time, but I see no need to have the pointless conversation which will make her feel bad.
“I have ordered a light lunch.” I look at her face, it seems much sadder than last time. Maybe I should have repeated the first conversation we had. But I could not, even if I wanted to. It started in a completely different mood.
“Do you not wish to see me?” I ask, and she starts crying.
“Of course I wish to see you! And I would love to share a meal with you, but I do not wish to see you killing yourself for my sake.”
No need to worry, my love, you will never see it.
I first try and fail to talk her into seeing more physicians, then I change the topic to Luck.
“I was thinking we make Mathias regent…” I explain my idea in detail, and surprisingly, Manuella agrees immediately. She even seems relieved I have considered our youngest and his future.
I try to steer the conversation away from it, but Manuella steers it right back, and discusses her looks, aging body. I refuse to hear her. She is my goddess. That will never change, and neither will the way I look at her.
Worse, she then talks about finding a good replacement, since I am still full of energy.
“Please, I do not wish my beloved to live a full century of misery after I pass away.” Her words are similar to the ones she said last time, but her voice sounds heavier, sadder. A tear escapes her, but she wipes it away.
“Please. I wish to leave in peace,” she says, but I shut my heart to those words. She once more speaks about the children, the kingdom, and her worry about me.
“Can you please be happy after I leave? Please?”
No. I will find a way for you to live forever. I promise.
I say it aloud, with all my conviction. “I promise.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
For the first time since I saw her today, Manuella smiles. “Thank you.”
Day after day, redo after redo, I crept closer and closer to Manuella’s perfect life. With healthy food and extra care, she can outlive the original version by an entire week. I keep her company the entire time, indulging her and doing everything in my power to keep her happy.
Day 23424 5:30 PM
“Dear,” Manuella says as we gaze at the passing clouds from atop the fortification walls. Today the weather is perfect, a distant rain made a giant rainbow, which danced and shimmered with the passage of clouds, almost looking like an aurora. I still recall how she sighed and said she wished we could have seen this rainbow from a better spot.
I spent a dozen redos looking for the perfect location for the maids to place a thick quilt and for us to lie and watch the unusual phenomenon.
“How many times have you died because of me?” she asks way sooner than she was supposed to, catching me by surprise. Against myself, I gulp.
“Not too many,” I say with a shrug, trying to act nonchalant, but she knows me too well.
“You are lying to me. After all these years, you broke our vow. Tell me, how many times have you died?” She sits up straight and glares at me.
She just got up, and I already miss her warmth. The long silence earns me nothing but a glare.
“I think ten or so. How do you like the blanket? Was the tea too cold?”
“Aang!” she raises her voice.
“Yes, Dear?”
“Answer my question. How many times have you died just to organize picnics with me?”
“I will answer, just tell me, how was the tea? Temperature? Did it have enough honey, did they steep the leaves long enough.”
“Aang,” Manuella sobs. “I don’t give a damn about the tea. Tell me, how many times have you died? How many times have I died?”
Drop the tea, she dislikes it.
Defending myself with silence is not an option, and this much anxiety is bad for her health, she might die sooner in this redo. I clench my teeth, trying to guess what she wants to hear. A small part of me tells me she wants the truth. That she wants and deserves to know, but I no longer listen to that little traitor.
Manuella had a mental breakdown, followed by a heart attack the last time I listened to it.
“I do not know exactly,” I say honestly to mix in some truth with the lie. “A dozen?”
“Aang,” Manuella is furious, the exact scenario I wished to avoid.
“Calm down, stress is bad for your heart.”
“Aang,” she repeats, no less angry. “I have known you for over half a century. With your intelligence there is no way you would lose count after reaching twelve. How many times did you die?”
She has a point. I need to make the lie more convincing, but if I start with convincing numbers she is going to start screaming at me, and fall over dead. Maybe we should skip the rainbow lights? But she was so sad we missed it some fifty redos ago.
It is a conundrum. Maybe the blanket and the accidental picnic on the castle walls just at the right time to watch something most people never see roused her suspicion?
“Answer me, Aang!”
“Couple of hundred times,” I say offhandedly, still thinking how to avoid this mess in the future.
“Aang.” She starts crying. “You are lying! Tell me the truth.”
She deserves to know.
I sigh.
“Thirty-forty thousand. I lost count.”
She falls down on her knees sobbing.
“I am a curse!” she cries, and I snap my head towards her.
“What nonsense are you talking about? You are my queen, my goddess.”
“I am a curse keeping you locked in time.” She looks at me with red eyes filled with despair I have never seen in them. “You cannot move past my death, and you keep reliving it, over and over and over again!”
Definitely cannot let things turn out this way.
“Aang, you need to live, I am dying, I have died at least thirty thousand times. Let me rest in peace and move on!”
I try not to look at her, seeing my perfect Manuella broken like this shreds my heart to pieces.
She stands up, and grabs my chin, forcing me to look into her bloodshot eyes.
“Aang, promise me you will let me die. Promise me you will never obsess over someone or something like this again. Have you no idea how much you are tormenting yourself? How much you hurt me because I have to watch you getting out of bed every morning, more erratic with each passing day?
“Aang, if you ever loved me a shred, promise me this is the last time you will see me die. Promise me.”
I look at her and my throat clenches. I am disgusted with myself, but I still say it.
“I promise.”
Day 23424 5:53 PM
“I promise.”
Day 23424 5:46 PM
“I promise.”
Day 23424 5:57 PM
“I promise.”
Day 23424 5:51 PM
“I promise.”
Day 23424 5:49 PM
“I promise.”
Day 23424 6:03 PM
“I promise.”