SOTBW - 111

While Najane was deep in thought, Didina returned with tea and dessert. The dessert was cinnamon chocolate. A flicker of discomfort crossed Najane’s face at the sight of cinnamon powder before quickly disappearing. Didina set down a plate of dense chocolate in front of Najane.

“This cinnamon chocolate was specially ordered by the Commander. Cinnamon chocolate is a common dessert in Bastronia, but this one is particularly special. See the gold dust on top? That means it’s a product usually supplied to the royal family. Apparently, he specifically requested this for Lady Schnicks. I was worried it might spoil during the long delivery, but it arrived in perfect condition. Go ahead and eat. Training must be exhausting; you need to have these little indulgences to keep your strength up.”

Didina savored the chocolate happily, showing no aversion to the cinnamon. Watching her carefully, Najane subtly brushed off some of the cinnamon powder and put a piece of chocolate into her mouth.

However, as soon as she bit into the rich chocolate, the intense aroma of cinnamon overwhelmed her senses. Startled, Najane swallowed the barely chewed chocolate hastily and quickly washed it down with milk tea. The cinnamon flavor was so strong that it lingered in her mouth, refusing to dissipate.

Even though Maximón had gone out of his way to order it, Najane couldn’t overcome her dislike for cinnamon.

For some reason, the scent of cinnamon reminded her of corpses—specifically, rotting corpses in the heat of summer. Because of this, Najane had detested foods with cinnamon since she was a child.

As she dwelled on the scent, nausea began to creep up on her, and she quickly gulped down more milk tea. Didina, who had been enjoying the dessert gracefully, tilted her head in confusion at the sight of Najane finishing her tea so quickly.

“Were you very thirsty? I should have brought you cold water instead.”

“No, it’s fine. The milk tea is enough. Please, have some more yourself. I just came back from sparring, so I don’t have much of an appetite.”

“Lady Schnicks, do you dislike cinnamon?” Didina asked with a knowing smile. Najane, looking a little embarrassed, nodded.

“…Was it that obvious?”

“There are quite a few people who don’t like cinnamon.”

“Please don’t tell the Commander.”

“If you keep it a secret, he’ll likely shower you with luxurious cinnamon-coated chocolates on the Day of Devotion.”

“Ah…”

The thought made Najane furrow her brows in distress. Didina chuckled softly as she cleared the cinnamon chocolate from Najane’s plate and asked gently, “Is it because you don’t want to seem ungrateful for the Commander’s thoughtfulness?”

“Partly. I don’t like cinnamon, but I can endure it for something like this…”

Najane hesitated. She didn’t want to reject Maximón’s kindness outright, especially considering this was the kingdom of Bastronia, the heartland of the Holy Church. While not liking cinnamon wouldn’t get her persecuted, it still felt like a trivial thing to admit.

As Didina refilled Najane’s empty teacup, she glanced at her with a small smile.

“High-quality chocolate like this is usually laden with cinnamon powder. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“…Well, that’s a bit…”

“Then it’s better to let him know, isn’t it?”

Najane, slightly embarrassed, nodded. She seemed to think disliking cinnamon made her appear childish.

Didina found Najane both endearing and pitiable. She had heard the rumors about Najane bearing a curse, whispered by loose-tongued gossipers. It was only after hearing those rumors that she began to understand why Najane had kept her distance from the other maids she used to share quarters with.

During her time as a maid, Najane had always been alone. She avoided bathing with the others, even though doing so meant she had to wash herself in cold, leftover water. She never spoke about herself and showed little interest in others’ conversations. Despite this, she wasn’t an unpleasant or difficult person to live with.

The other maids had a generally good opinion of her. She firmly refused lazy requests to cover for them, yet she willingly took on tasks for those who were unwell. She paid no attention to malicious gossip and performed her duties with care and diligence.

Though she didn’t seem naturally suited for the work, she learned quickly by observing others and always strove to complete her tasks to the best of her ability. Seeing her choose isolation for herself had always pained Didina, but after becoming a knight, Najane seemed to find her place at last. Her expression grew brighter with each passing day.

Didina had no regard for the nasty rumors surrounding Najane. As someone who had personally witnessed her character during her time as Head Maid, Didina knew Najane’s true nature better than anyone.

“Don’t pay too much attention to what people say,” Didina advised her warmly, speaking with the sincerity of a mother offering guidance to her daughter.

“They only see what they want to see and hear what they want to hear. We spend our days doing our best, barely managing to get by. Who knows what will happen tomorrow or how we might meet our end? So, if those who don’t truly care for you pretend to worry and start spreading nonsense, don’t hold back. Go ahead and tell the commander,” Didina said with conviction.

“And then, without a doubt…” Najane trailed off.

“They’ll either get scolded so harshly they’ll regret it or reflect on their actions in hell—one of the two,” Didina replied, laughing heartily, the wrinkles on her face deepening with her grin.

Najane couldn’t help but chuckle softly in response.

Didina truly was a kind person. She had always helped the maids with difficult circumstances rebuild their lives, encouraging them to save money and find stability. For those who eventually left the Romsoa Knights due to personal circumstances, she would persistently badger the picky Maximón into writing recommendation letters, ensuring they could find work elsewhere. Many maids who had benefited from Didina’s kindness continued to send her letters from distant places, simply letting her know they were doing well. For Didina, those letters were enough.

Though she had lost her beloved daughter when fleeing to the Kingdom of Bastronia, she found solace here. To her, the diligent and kind maids were like surrogate daughters. She wished only for them to live the lives they wanted, to pursue their goals fearlessly, to understand that sometimes retreating was the right choice, and to remember that even if they felt like a faint flicker of light, they could still shine brightly in the darkness.

Didina looked at Najane with a gaze full of affection. Earlier that morning, she had felt as if the world was crumbling when she heard that Maximón had been summoned to the palace. The Romsoa Knights employed many maids, and it was only thanks to Maximón’s consistent provision of fair wages, as per Didina’s request, that the arrangement worked. If anything happened to him, the maids who had sought refuge in the Knights would be in grave trouble.

Though she tried to remain composed, hearing the news of Nedden’s murder had left her utterly despairing. Yet, unlike her, Najane had faced it all with remarkable composure. Seeing her steadfast demeanor, Didina realized that Najane had undergone a transformation—a good one.

Setting her teacup down, Didina tilted her head slightly as she noticed Najane’s lips parting, as if she had something to say.

“Is there something you want to talk about? Don’t hesitate—feel free to speak. I swear in Sylin’s name that whatever you say today will remain a secret,” Didina said warmly.

Najane hesitated briefly, her gaze falling to the table. The emerald-filled boxes glinting like thorns weighed heavily on her mind. This wasn’t something she could discuss with just anyone; only Didina could be trusted with it.

“Do you remember the question I asked you a while ago? About whether the commander….” Najane’s voice trailed off.

“Loves you?” Didina finished for her, her tone calm. “Of course, I remember. If that’s not love, then what is?”

Didina’s voice carried certainty, as though the matter wasn’t even up for debate. At first, even she had been uncertain, unable to tell whether Maximón’s actions toward Najane were rooted in an obsession with a rare knight possessing sword aura or in a twisted affection for someone he fancied. But things had become clearer once Maximón assigned Najane to his private residence instead of the Knights’ barracks. It was evident he saw Najane not only as a knight of Romsoa but also as a woman.

Over time, whispers about their relationship grew. Many talked behind Maximón’s back, too afraid of him to speak openly. Some even questioned what the esteemed Maximón Elgort could see in a woman as plain as Najane. Cruel rumors spread, with some suggesting Najane had ensnared him with her bedroom skills. But the maids who had worked alongside Najane often said otherwise: “If the commander truly understands her, it wouldn’t be surprising if he loves her.” Didina agreed with that sentiment.

Najane was like the shadow of a white birch tree—quiet and unassuming—yet at times, she could shine like the sun piercing through a dark forest. She hid herself away, desperate to remain unnoticed, yet when sacrifice was called for, she didn’t hesitate to step out of the shadows. A trembling coward yet fiercely resolute—a paradox of vulnerability and strength.

If Maximón had witnessed that side of Najane, there was no way he would let her go. Didina recalled meeting Maximón’s foster father, Edwin, only once. Strangely, Najane reminded her of him.

Returning to the present, Didina set down her teacup, pondering the reason behind Najane’s question.

“Don’t tell me he denied it was love?” she asked, her voice incredulous.

“Yes. Before, he…,” Najane admitted softly.

“Oh my…” Didina muttered, visibly taken aback.

“Well, the commander’s way of thinking isn’t exactly conventional…,” she said, shaking her head as understanding dawned. Now she knew why Najane hadn’t been delighted to receive so many lavish gifts. Rubbing her temple, Didina let out a deep sigh, much like a parent fretting over a rebellious teenager. She hadn’t expected that Maximón still hadn’t confessed his feelings.

Looking at Najane’s downcast expression, Didina felt a pang of sadness, as if her own child were suffering. This time, she couldn’t bring herself to take Maximón’s side.

“If that’s the case, why not try pushing him away instead?” Didina suggested.

At Didina’s suggestion, Najane shook her head vehemently, her expression asking if Didina had forgotten the chaos that erupted the last time she had threatened to leave Romsoa. Didina laughed and waved her hands dismissively.

“No, no, nothing that extreme! I’m just suggesting you try a little push-and-pull.”

“Push-and-pull…?”

Didina could see Najane wondering if this was about physical contact.

“For the record, it’s not physical. Don’t misunderstand,” Didina quickly clarified, as if reading Najane’s thoughts.

“If you’re curious about how the commander truly feels about you, try creating a little distance. He’s not exactly the patient type, so you’ll probably see results immediately.”

Given that Najane was practically swept along by Maximón’s will most of the time, even the slightest sign of rejection on her part would elicit a strong reaction from him. The real challenge would be for Najane to balance the push-and-pull effectively.

“Um, Dame Schnicks.”

“Yes?”

“…The commander can occasionally be a bit… capricious. So, for the sake of everyone working in the knights’ order…,” Didina trailed off, swallowing her words.

Please don’t go overboard with the push-and-pull.

Instead, she smiled warmly, her expression gentle.

Of course, how much of that smile’s meaning Najane understood would only become clear later.