The sound of him swallowing his saliva resonated loudly in his ears as he was overwhelmed with agitation. He rubbed his damp palms against his trousers and struggled desperately to not stare at the girl too hard, but no matter how hard he tried, his eyes were glued to her like a magnet naturally attracted to steel.
His eyes skimmed through her meticulously braided hair rolled up to a bun, her long slender neck, her narrow shoulders and slim waist, accentuated by her flowing silk dress.
The little girl in his memories always had disheveled hair. Often, her hair was braided only into one or two parts and would often swell up like a cloud, as it got tangled with branches and bushes. He wondered if this regal-looking woman and the girl who dragged a rugged pouch collecting pebbles were the same person. Triden gently spoke as Riftan stared blankly with an awe-struck expression.
“The lady standing behind you is?”
“Excuse me for the late introduction. She’s my daughter, Maximillian.”
The Duke of Croix urged her to step forward. Only then the girl who was constantly looking at the floor, raised her head. Riftan felt a strange quiver run down his spine. Although she had a face similar to the girl in his illusions, she had grown differently. Traces of childhood were evident on her round forehead, cheeks, and narrow chin but brown freckles that he had never seen before sprinkled the lower-half region of her nose bridge and cheekbones, just like golden dust. Her eyes were still big and gray like a winter’s lake but now it had an unfamiliar sadness in them.
He frowned, curious to why she was wearing such a dark expression. And then, the moment she laid her eyes on him, a clear look of fear tinted her eyes, together with a half-lost expression on her face. Riftan’s whole body stiffened in shock.
He never anticipated that she would be afraid of him. After all, she was a girl who fearlessly charged towards a monster her size. However, she was eyeing him with terror, her shoulders visibly shaking, like she was looking at a hideous monster. The look in her eyes struck his heart like a dagger.
“It’s an honor to meet you, miss. My name is Evan Triden.”
The commander held out one hand and gave her a soft, reassuring smile. The girl hesitantly reached out and placed her hand against his. The man then politely bowed and kissed the back of her hand.
“This young man standing beside me is my subordinate, Riftan Calypse.”
He introduced her to Riftan, who was standing so stiffly.
“…It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“P…p-pleasure to meet you.” Her gaze turned downwards, and she murmured in a trembling voice. Her voice was so soft that it would have been difficult to understand her words without paying it full attention.
Riftan was drowning in an unimaginable despondency: the fantasies he dearly cherished for nearly a decade crumbled like a sandcastle before his eyes. He had depended on those memories of her, using it as a will to live, yet she couldn’t even look him in the eyes. He felt like the world’s biggest idiot.
Indeed… it would have been better if we didn’t meet again.
Illusions should have been left as illusion and memories should be nothing more than just memories. The Duke Croix’s voice suddenly resounded as he was being devoured by the emptiness he felt.
“Child, you look pale. Are you still not feeling well?”
The girl’s back hunched and then she slowly nodded her head. A soft sigh escaped from the duke’s lips.
“Now that you have finished greeting the guests, you may go back to your room so you can rest.”
The girl glanced once at Riftan and Triden, then bowed, turning slowly to leave. The duke, who was staring at her with an anxious look, casted a dry smile towards the commander.
“I apologize for the rudeness. She’s a reserved child, so she doesn’t feel comfortable in noisy places like gatherings.”
“Isn’t she at the right age to go to the royal palace?”
“I’m the one who refuses to send her.” The Duke shook his head and leaned back like he was a generous father. “Although she greets the nobles at certain occasions, it worries me how she is reluctant to appear in front of people. I have unknowingly spoiled her out of habit because I felt sorry for her since she lost her mother at a very young age.”
The man stroked his beard and lightly clicked his tongue. “I am aware that I should be strict with them as they grow older, but I keep pampering them without realizing it.”
“You have a great affection for your daughter.”
“As you know, I only have two daughters. I’m determined to do everything in my power to make them live as they please.”
Riftan followed her distant figure with his eyes as the conversation transpired. Although he repeatedly told himself that he was holding on to a mere illusion, his eyes trailed her, and he felt like he just lost a life-long cherished treasure. He shook his head, struggling to get rid of his bitter feelings.
Soon, the Duke of Croix chatted with other people while Riftan mechanically greeted more eastern nobles. Afterwards, he sat alone in a corner and gulped glasses of wine one after another. However, instead of getting drunk, his thoughts only got clearer.
He despised the fact that he felt utterly disappointed. Feeling disappointment only meant that he expected something else. What did you expect? Did you expect her to smile and recognize you? Or were you expecting her to blush and be mesmerized with your appearance?
He smirked at himself. It was time to break free from his immature fantasies. Even though he held a title, he was still a lowly, half-blooded pagan and illegitimate child, while she was the daughter of a venerable duke.
Riftan drank endless glasses of wine and returned to his room, falling to sleep in an instant. The next morning, a throbbing headache stung him the moment he opened his eyes. He muttered nasty profanities and clutched his head. Usually, he avoided drinking alcoholic drinks, so he had never experienced having a hangover. He groaned at the unfamiliar pain and drank a full glass of cold water. However, the pain wasn’t chased away. A dull ache pestered his eyelids, running all the way to his temples.
“F*ck…”
What the hell is this feeling? Riftan violently clicked his tongue and washed his face with cold water, then changed his clothes in an attempt to lift his spirits. The weather was sunny, opposite to his disgruntled mood. He trudged out to the garden maze and looked up at the cloudless sky with displeasure.
As he left the castle and crossed the wide hills, a rundown hut caught his eyes. He was stopped in his steps and his throat felt like there was a thorn stuck in it. The hut was relatively clean and maintained, proving wrong his expectations that it would have been long abandoned. Riftan searched its surroundings and peeked into the dark hut through the open window. There was a small vegetable garden in the backyard and around three or four chickens roamed inside the small fence.
He wondered if his stepfather still lived there. No, maybe someone else started living here after my stepfather left.
Either way, he couldn’t verify for himself right away. He looked around again at the empty cabin and hesitantly turned around. At that moment, something suddenly flew towards his face. Riftan blocked and grabbed it. A skinny boy holding a plow used for the fields stared at him with a fierce look.
“What are you snooping around for, trying to steal?!”
Riftan looked down at the boy who came out of nowhere. The boy’s face was red as he huffed, not appearing to be afraid of him.
“You were planning to steal all of my father’s chickens, aren’t you? I knew it!”
“…do you live here?”
The boy tried to pull the plow back from Riftan’s grip and whined, raising his little chin.
“Yes, this is our house! So, you can’t take anything from here without my permission!”
“I didn’t come here to steal.” Riftan replied in a low, calm voice and bent his knees to observe the child’s scruffy face. His beaked brown eyes looked familiar. “What is your father’s name?”
“Why should you have to know that?”
The boy exclaimed vigorously and arched an eyebrow. The child suddenly felt threatened by his close proximity and stepped back, whimpering. Riftan spoke in the most subdued voice he had.
“I owe the man who lived here. I came here today to settle that debt.”
“This is our house. It is ours even before I was born.”
“What’s your father’s name?”
The boy hesitated for a while but soon replied. “Novan…”
That was his stepfather’s name. Riftan asked again with a calm tone. “How old are you?”
“…Eight years old.”
The boy replied in a less vigilant tone, feeling the atmosphere change. Riftan slowly stood up and glanced at the hut he ran away from.
That house was filled with such bitter and terrible memories that it made him wonder how his stepfather was able to start a new family. It was hard for him to imagine he did that, as he himself could not stand to spend a night there and ran away.
“…How’s your father’s health?”
“He grumbles everyday about how his back aches but he’s healthy. It is my mother who is sick.”
The boy had quickly recovered from being suspicious of him and started to reveal more information. Riftan frowned at the news. “…Your mother is sick?”
“She has been sick since the day she gave birth to my younger sister. And yet, she goes out to work in the fields everyday while carrying my sister on her back.” The little boy dropped his plow and looked at him with curiosity. “Are you my father’s friend?”
Riftan didn’t know what to respond so he bit his lips. He felt relieved knowing that his stepfather wasn’t living a miserable life, but he oddly felt bitter inside and it disgusted him. The man who was stuck with his mother and him for twelve years finally got a real family of his own: it was something he should be pleased with.
Riftan pulled the pouch hanging from his waist and held it out to the boy. Inside the pouch was at least forty gold coins.
“As I said before, I owe your father a great deal. Give this to him.”
“Just how much did my father lend you? Without having much money… “
The boy took the pouch and looked inside it curiously. He stopped the boy from taking the gold coins out and warned him carefully.
“There is enough money that even your mother and younger sibling can live comfortably for the rest of their lives. If you show others that money, they might take it away.” The little boy protected the heavy leather pouch and hugged it to his chest, looking genuinely frightened. “You have to hide it carefully inside your house and give it to your father once he returns. Can you do that?”
“Y-yes…”
The boy nodded understandably and immediately ran into the hut. Riftan looked at the boy’s figure, then slowly turned around. As he was about to leave, the boy poked his head out of the hut’s door.
“Mister, what’s your name? Can I tell my father who came here to visit?”
“…he’ll know if you tell him it was Riftan.”
“Are you not going to meet my father?”
Riftan shook his head and strode away. He tried to go back to the castle, but he was anxious as he entrusted an excessively large amount of money to a child, so he just hid in the woods and watched the hut in secret.
He waited for quite a long time. Finally, a man with a hunched back walked up the hill with farm tools strapped to his back. Riftan silently gazed at the man whose face was burned by the sun and whose hair was thinning. As if the boy had been waiting all this time by the window, he immediately went out of the house and ran to his father like an arrow.
Riftan turned around and swiftly walked towards the castle. Strangely, his chest felt empty. Wasn’t it him who left so heartlessly? And yet, why was it that in the corner of his heart he expected for it to be a place he could someday return to? Now that there was nothing left for him there, why did he feel so reluctant to visit? A sarcastic laugh came out of his mouth.