ชาติภพนี้ ข้าขอเป็นภรรยาและมารดาที่ดี

Raphael opened the lid of the cauldron, waving his hand to bring the scent of wood and plant roots emanating from the cauldron to his nose, making sure that the potion was correct, according to the recipe his father taught him.

“Perfect,” he said, satisfied.

Slowly, he put out the fire in his stove, then hurriedly took out the ten small glass bottles that he had sterilized beforehand. His lips moved to chant a spell to transfer the contents of the potion into the bottles.

The most crucial stage, because this potion would lose its effectiveness if it was poured into a bottle when it was cold. The cauldron floated as the spell worked, transferring its contents into the bottles while keeping the concentration from losing its concentration.

Then, the cauldron floated to the sink, along with the other items that he used to create the potion.

Looking at the ten glass bottles, which were now turned to a transparent red, he smiled with satisfaction. He rushed the bottles onto the wooden shelf near the entrance to the potion room, leaving one bottle for him.

His hands were shaking, holding the bottle. His satisfied face turned anxious. Fear enveloped him. Repeatedly he gave himself affirmations so that his anxious feelings each time he drank the potion will go after he drank it, but still failed. And this was part of the side effect of the herb he hated the most.

He took a breath, then exhaled slowly. His eyes were aware of the drops of blood staining his desk. Reflexively, his hand touched under his nose, aware of blood coming out of his nose.

The first symptoms have appeared. Yes, there was no time to worry. His fear would only kill him. He wiped the blood on his nose, then drank the potion in one gulp.

His body absorbed the potion rapidly, sending out a sensation like an electric shock that directly attacked his heart. His breath caught as his body slammed into the floor of the room, causing a loud thud.

His vision slowly blurred before it finally went completely dark.

After that, he remembered nothing.

***

Raphael opened his eyes. He could see vaguely the ceiling of his bedroom, showing that he was no longer in the potion room where he had spent his last time.

His eyes were accustomed to the sunlight rushing in through the gaps in the closed window blinds. To his left, he saw the figure of a young man named Isaac Kanon reading a document in his hand with a serious face behind thin gold-rimmed glasses.

The man’s green eyes scanned the contents of the document, signing each document with a deep sigh. Then the man’s attention turned to him, looking relieved to notice him.

“Are you awake?” Isaac turned his body toward Raphael. “How do you feel?”

“I feel so much better,” he said, looking around. “You brought me here?”

Isaac nodded.

“Thanks,” Raphael got out of bed. Isaac placed the document on the nightstand, along with a pile of other documents, then helped him to his feet. A gesture that he immediately brushed off because he didn’t need his childhood friend’s help just to help him get up.

“What brought you here? Did you finish your work at the palace?”

“Yes.”

He glanced at the pile of documents, questioning the whereabouts of a pile of documents on the nightstand.

“Already finished, huh?” he said with sarcasm.

Isaac did not seem to realize his sarcastic tone. The man got up from the chair where he was sitting, opened the window blinds, and turned off the bedroom light. Allowing sunlight to enter his room through the window.

“There are some potions I want to buy from you, so I’m here.”

“Why don’t you just ask your men? Why bother coming to my house?”

“I’m not comfortable with that. I’m afraid you’ll get angry if I did that.”

“I won’t, dummy!” Raphael had his hands on his hips, stifled by the excuse the man always said whenever he asked why he had taken the order himself. “Are you preparing for war again?”

“Yes.”

Raphael took a deep sigh while shaking his head lightly, walking out of his room to the potions room downstairs.

“I’ve always wanted to ask you this. Why are you so obsessed with controlling another kingdom?”

“It’s not an obsession, Raphael. Our kingdom needs to expand—”

“Our territory and show the strength of our kingdom. I know,” Raphael covered his ears as he rolled his two blue eyes, walking out to the stairs without even looking at Isaac. “But aren’t you being too much? Try to put yourself in their shoes. Also, in terms of your subordinates. Did they all agree with your decision?”

“They said it didn’t matter to them as long as we can win. Many parties also agreed with the plan.”

“Is it true? Not because they were afraid of you?”

“No. It has been a long time since this proposal existed when my father was still in charge.” Isaac looked annoyed at his question. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

“I’m saying this because I’m worried. Don’t get me wrong,” Raphael snapped his fingers, turning on the light to illuminate the downstairs corridor, which was dark as there were no windows.

His hand pressed against the doorknob, opening a potion room that was still in the same state as before he lost consciousness earlier. He walked one by one to the shelves where he kept the potion he had made while humming after turning on the room light.

“But it’s also for your sake …”

His ears caught Isaac’s whisper, turning his attention from the shelf in front of him, towards Isaac, who was standing behind him.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“I heard what you said earlier, Isaac,” Raphael walked over to Isaac, who now looked away, not looking at him. “Explain it to me right now!”

“And I told you. It’s nothing.”

He grabbed Isaac by the neck, forcing the man to meet his eyes. “Say it clear now, Isaac! You know, I’m not someone who hides in the shadows!”

Isaac squeezed his wrist, looking back at Raphael. His friend’s eyes were so sad, so gloomy, that he could not hold to look into the man’s eyes any longer.

He waited for Isaac to open his mouth. But Isaac remained silent, burying his face in Raphael’s neck. As if Isaac was afraid his existence would vanish if he wasn’t holding him this tightly.

***