SOTBW - 32

“What’s going on?”

When Maximón spoke, a chilling coldness poured out. Najane couldn’t bring herself to look him directly in the eyes. It felt as though she had been transported back to the moment they first met. No, the coldness enveloping him now was even worse than it had been that day.

She fiddled with her trembling hand, trying to appear calm as she locked eyes with Maximón.

“I... I just wanted to apologize to you, Captain. If it’s alright...”

“To me?”

Maximón cut her off mid-sentence and tilted his head slightly.

“Yesterday, I think I may have troubled you with the mercenaries, and I wanted to apologize...” Najane trailed off.

“Oh, that.”

Maximón chuckled briefly, as though he had forgotten about it. It was a laugh with no real meaning.

Najane was at a loss. This was a side of Maximón she had never seen before—cynical and detached. He seemed like a completely different person.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. If you think of me as a mass murderer, that’s just something you’ll have to accept.”

“No, that’s not it, I...” Najane started, but Maximón interrupted her again.

“What about your condition? Were there any problems during the battle?”

Maximón, showing no interest in her apology, smoothly shifted the topic.

“I’m fine now, but I’m not sure how I’ll be during the day...” Najane hesitated.

“In that case, go back to the order and clean up immediately. Wait for me in my room.”

Maximón spoke in a slightly annoyed tone, as if he were reluctantly doing someone a favor. His expression looked as though he was pitying her.

Stunned, Najane stood frozen. Maximón seemed to have made it clear that he intended to insult her.

She felt his indifferent words pierce her heart. The pain spread through her chest, sharper than the agony she’d felt from using her sword techniques recklessly. She couldn’t comprehend the sudden change in Maximón’s behavior. It felt as though her mind had frozen over.

Maximón turned his back as if there was nothing more to discuss. Najane knew that speaking to him now could only make things worse, but she also knew that letting him leave like this would irreparably damage their relationship.

Suppressing her trembling hands, Najane hurried to catch up with him. She blocked his path and, while trying to suppress her panic, spoke calmly.

“Captain, please wait a moment. If you’re angry about yesterday, I’m truly sorry. I just—”

“Why do you think I’m angry?”

Maximón asked the question with a detached tone. Najane fell silent for a moment, not because she didn’t know how to answer, but because he wasn’t even pretending to want to talk to her. This was the Maximón she didn’t know.

Her eyes began to fill with tears. Maximón watched her without speaking, and then, with a quiet sneer, he mocked her.

“Angry? Maybe I am. You haven’t experienced how much of a parasite those mercenaries are, so you might pity their deaths. You might even think my decision to have them killed was wrong, but I was so close to getting angry at your ridiculous attitude. But then I decided not to waste my emotions, and I forgot about the stupid question you asked me that day. So stop with the pathetic apologies. I’m not someone you can talk to like a friend.”

Each word Maximón spoke dripped with anger and frustration. Najane found herself mesmerized by his piercing gaze. She realized something was terribly wrong, but she couldn’t figure out what she needed to do to restore things to how they once were. All she could do was suppress her emotions.

Her nose tingled with the rising pressure of tears, but she forced a calm smile.

“…I’m sorry. I just…”

“Oh, and by the way, did I ask if I would discard you if you became useless?”

Maximón’s face, now inches from hers, twisted into a sly grin.

“Yeah, I would. If you can’t use your sword techniques anymore, I’d gladly throw you away.”

His words, spat out like garbage, sank deep into Najane’s heart. She slowly closed her mouth. Only then did Maximón resume walking, as if he had nothing more to say.

Najane didn’t try to stop him. She simply watched his retreating figure. Instead, she focused on what she had done wrong.

Had it been a mistake to speak as though she were holding Maximón accountable? Or perhaps, in her attempt to grow closer to him, she had unknowingly crossed a line. Whatever the reason, she knew that she must have made some mistake, and that was why Maximón was pushing her away.

Najane remembered the gentle touch of Maximón’s hands as they caressed her body in the noisy inn. She hadn’t forgotten how, like a drunken person, he gazed at her with clear, sharp eyes, despite the haze of alcohol.

That wasn’t a dream. At that moment, Najane had wished that time would stand still as she lay in his embrace. The closeness of their bodies had felt both ticklish and pleasurable, and the hardships and misfortunes they’d faced in the Noctis Fortress seemed like happy memories, wrapped in joy.

Najane rubbed her frozen hands against her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she was even breathing. Her heart ached as though it were being torn apart, and something felt off. Otherwise, she shouldn’t have been in this much pain.

She looked at her hands, which were bruised and raw, and tears spilled out, like winter rain. Trying to hold back the sobs, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

Left alone again, there was only one thing Najane could do: blame herself. She thought she had lost Luna in the same way, through a foolish mistake. And now, once again, she believed it was her fault.

For now, self-blame was her only escape, her only way out. It felt better to think that she was simply hated by Maximón for no reason than to believe she had done something wrong.

________________________________________

After her shower, Najane hesitated in front of Maximón’s door. She had scrubbed her face vigorously with warm water to remove the traces of her tears, but she still couldn’t summon the courage to face him.

Maybe it was because of the rough fight in the field that he was on edge and had treated her harshly. Of course, Maximón had never been sharp with her before…

Najane gathered all her courage and knocked on the door. From the other side, she heard him call her in immediately.

She opened the door carefully. Maximón was sitting at the desk, writing something, his hair still damp as if he hadn’t dried it after his shower.

Maximón glanced at Najane briefly before returning his attention to his writing.

“Wait over there.”

“…Yes.”

Najane had hoped that opening the door would reveal the usual Maximón, but he remained as cold and distant as ever. She stood in the familiar room, hands clasped behind her back like a soldier, taking in her surroundings.

Then she remembered that she still hadn’t returned his coat. He had draped it over her shoulders when they came back from the black market, saying she was cold.

Thinking about that moment suddenly made this one feel like a nightmare. She couldn’t stop wondering what had gone wrong. If she didn’t figure it out, it felt like her sanity might break and she would burst into tears.

Maximón continued writing on the third piece of paper, leaving Najane standing at the door. She thought he might be drafting a document, but the paper looked too luxurious for that. It was stationery.

A little closer, Najane looked at the shining paper under the sunlight. Maximón was carefully writing, making sure to choose an appropriate size for each word, almost as though he was worried he might run out of paper. The sight of him writing a letter seemed oddly peaceful and enjoyable, a side of him she had never seen.

Najane couldn’t help but wonder who the recipient of the letter was, especially considering her current feelings, as if she had fallen into hell overnight.

But she couldn’t bring herself to ask. If she did, Maximón might look at her like before or say something cruel, and that would definitely make her cry. Normally, she knew he would comfort her if she cried, but now… now was different.

She couldn’t adjust to the unexpected change, and she instinctively rubbed her throat, which felt tight. At that moment, Maximón set down the ink pen and folded the letter carefully.

Trying not to smudge the ink, he folded the paper with delicate hands. Without realizing it, Najane imagined that the letter was being sent to a woman—perhaps Maximón’s fiancée or a long-time lover.

She bit her lip hard. After all, they were nothing more than the typical relationship between a knight commander and a soldier, unrelated to love from the start. It was simply that, due to her circumstances, they had often been intimate. So, it wouldn’t be strange if Maximón had grown tired of her and started treating her with the same indifference he had shown to others.

But Najane couldn’t accept that truth. Something felt wrong. He had always been cruel and cold, but now, he seemed almost like a different person, his personality twisted. She wished everything were just a nightmare.

After searching for Luna, Najane had planned to escape, but she knew it was impossible. It was just a feeling, an intuition. Whether she wanted it or not, she was bound to Maximón Elgort, and she would either live here forever or die soon.

Maximón placed the letter in a jewel box she had never seen before and then looked at Najane. His emerald eyes, which had once seemed scary but beautiful, now gleamed oddly.

He pushed the desk aside and, looking her up and down, spoke.

“Take off your clothes.”

Startled, Najane grabbed at her shirt and stepped back. But in Maximón’s gaze, there was none of the usual heat.

Najane instinctively shrank back. Then Maximón rose from his chair and approached her. He lowered his head as if he were about to kiss her.

Instead of saying no, she tightly closed her eyes. She heard a short chuckle from Maximón near her lips.

Only then did Najane open her eyes and look at Maximón. He was staring down at her without doing anything. His gaze was dry and indifferent.

At that moment, she accepted the change in Maximón. He was no longer the Maximón Elgort she had known. Avoiding his gaze, Najane slowly stepped backward toward the door.

“…I, I didn’t mention this, but I’m, I’m on my period right now…”

Najane stumbled over her words, clumsily lying.

“Is that so?”

Maximón replied in a nonchalant tone. It was the attitude of someone who wouldn’t care at all about sex. If it had been the Maximón Najane knew, he would have laughed, saying it was just another lie.

As she looked at Maximón, the hope and expectation slowly faded from her eyes. She eventually lowered her gaze, as if she had given up on everything. Though her expression twisted in pain, not wanting to accept what was happening to her, she was more accustomed to giving up than anyone else.

With eyes clouded by wounds, Najane calmly spoke.

“…If it’s fine with you, can I come back later?”

Without even looking at her, Maximón sat back down in his chair. It was a clear indication that she should leave. Najane politely bowed to him and left the room.

The sunlight streaming down the long corridor was bright. She stood still for a moment, bathed in the light. The sunlight, carrying a faint smell of dust, flowed like water across her pale, gaunt face and closed eyes.

But Najane couldn’t feel any warmth. It was as if her entire body had begun to rot, and her senses had dulled.

Slowly opening her eyes, she stared at her palm, which held the sunlight. What had she hoped to accomplish while enduring so much pain?

As she stood there absentmindedly, Najane finally thought of Luna. Where could she be now? She felt guilty for having left her only sister in such a wretched place, trying to steal away a moment of happiness for herself.

Najane smiled dryly as she returned to her room. She buried the sadness, anger, resentment, and loneliness that welled up from deep inside her, letting go of her feelings as a woman. She buried them all in the depths of her soul.

From now on, she wouldn’t think about anything.

She would just survive. No matter what anyone did to destroy her…

Back in her room, Najane retrieved the cheap drugs and tranquilizers she had hidden in the bed frame. She rolled the crude substances in a thin cigarette paper, lit it, and immediately smelled the bitter odor. It had been a while since she smoked, and the harsh smoke stung her eyes.

Sitting on the storage chest by the window, Najane took a deep drag, letting the toxic smoke seep into her heart, lungs, and every corner of her body that longed for Maximón.

“Najane, when did you get back? You should’ve gone straight to the dining hall after your bath… I was saving this for you…”

Amelia, who had burst into the room with a loud bang, stopped in her tracks mid-sentence.

“…Are you crying?”

Amelia’s expression twisted as well. With a cigarette in her mouth, Najane did her best to stifle her sobs.

Amelia quickly closed the door behind her and hurriedly embraced Najane. She held the emaciated Najane tightly, not asking a single question.

The two of them stayed like that for a long time.

They stayed that way until the cigarette that had been between Najane’s fingers turned to ash and disappeared.