SOTBW - 184

As Maximón began handling his duties at the mansion, people naturally started coming and going. Najane rarely left her bedroom, but when she heard a familiar voice, she would peek out to greet them. For Najane, being able to meet friendly faces without leaving the mansion was a good thing. Maximón was so sensitive about Najane catching a chill that even when she briefly strolled in the mansion’s garden, he anxiously watched over her.

The soldiers guarding the mansion allowed Belshua to enter without any hesitation. As Belshua approached the mansion, he noticed several voices coming from inside and turned to the guard stationed at the gate.

“Are there guests inside?”

“The priests from the Holy Church have come to inspect the knights’ holy swords.”

“In that case, I should wait until they leave. Thank you for letting me know.”

Belshua turned away and began walking through the mansion’s garden.

The garden had been neglected; trees were whitened and dried up in places, the grass had failed to take root and died, leaving bare frozen patches of earth exposed. The soil, loosened by rain and snow, hadn’t been properly tamped down, making the ground uneven. It looked like something out of an abandoned house. With a sigh, Belshua stomped on the hard, frozen ground with his boots. Living amidst such a desolate scene could make anyone sick.

As Belshua slowly walked through the unkempt garden, the creaking sound of a rusty door caught his attention. Turning his head, he saw Najane emerge from a side door connected to the kitchen, wearing a shawl. Surprised, Belshua froze in place.

Unaware of Belshua’s presence, Najane rubbed her dry hands together and walked toward the sunlight. Instinctively hiding himself, Belshua stared at her. Her face lacked vitality, and her breathing was irregular, like someone who had suffered from pneumonia for a long time. She appeared frail, as if she had skipped meals, and her legs seemed weak as she stepped on the snow-covered ground.

Belshua’s eyes trembled as he gazed at Najane.

After brushing the snow off a bench, Najane sat down briefly to bask in the winter sun. Despite the cold air, she seemed thinly dressed, which made Belshua uneasy.

Belshua hesitated for a while, wondering whether to approach her, but eventually hid behind a wall.

She had clearly strained her heart by using too much magical energy. Once the heart starts to fail, other organs won’t last long either. While refraining from fighting on the battlefield might extend her life, how long could she maintain this condition?

Belshua sighed, and his breath formed a small cloud.

“...Mahilen, my heart hurts again... I promised to build a snowman with my nanny and Villar tomorrow... Can’t you make me better soon?”

Belshua quietly closed his eyes.

Young Emaydis had to endure illness until he grew up and met Sainth. Having an immense amount of magical power was considered a great blessing at the time, but anything in excess can become poison.

For Emaydis, magic was nothing more than a parasite that gnawed away at his life day by day. To survive, he needed to find a way to reduce his magical energy. Belshua couldn’t just stand by and watch the life he painstakingly nurtured suffer and die.

Lost in memories, Belshua looked up at the cloudless sky.

When the Sainth were sealed away and the heroes gradually returned to the cycle of reincarnation, only Mahilen and Mackanon remained. At that point, Mackanon seriously warned Mahilen.

“I know you used Aron’s help to glimpse the future. I understand why you want to watch Emaydis be reborn and die again. But listen carefully, poor Mahilen. You must only observe. The moment you interfere in that person’s life, you’ll lose your composure and become a fool again. If you don’t have the courage for that, dig a hole and bury yourself in it. This is the first and last advice I’m giving you for your own sake.”

Belshua watched his white breath dissipate into the air.

When he first saw Najane, he didn’t think of her as Emaydis. Her appearance, personality, and actions were all different, allowing him to treat her with unusually cold rationality.

Up until then, he felt no emotions toward Najane. He thought all his feelings had withered away after watching countless Emaydis die.

If he hadn’t saved Najane when she fell from the carriage, could he have maintained that cold detachment? No, saving her wasn’t the issue. The real problem was his deeply personal sentiment about saving Emaydis.

While his body rotted away in pain, Belshua felt relief knowing Najane wasn’t hurt, and for the first time, he felt conflicted about not being able to rush to her side. He was aware of how foolish that was.

But how could he possibly stand by and watch Najane fall? That was simply… no, it was Mahilen’s instinct. After thousands of years of watching countless Emaydis die, it was Mahilen’s greatest wish that he had desperately suppressed.

The desire to protect Emaydis above all else.

“Do you really think you can keep yourself from falling in love with Najane?”

Belshua’s face twisted at Rakhshu’s question that resurfaced in his mind. He tried hard to push thoughts of Najane’s frailty out of his mind as he leaned back against the cold wall.

Just then, the sound of priests leaving the mansion reached his ears. Belshua cautiously glanced toward where Najane was sitting. Maximón had approached Najane after seeing the priests off.

Maximón draped a coat over Najane’s shoulders, his expression filled with concern.

“I told you we should take a walk together. Why did you come out here alone? And without your coat… Where are your gloves? You didn’t touch the snow with your bare hands, did you?”

“I’m not a child. I’ll be fine.”

“What if you catch a cold?”

Maximón gently stroked Najane’s cheek with the back of his hand and sighed. Their relationship seemed much better than Belshua had anticipated.

“The wind is biting cold. Let’s go inside.”

“Just a little longer.”

“You’ll catch a cold.”

“If you don’t want me crying like last time, sit down quickly.”

“...”

At Najane’s playful threat, Maximón obediently sat down on the bench without another word.

Belshua smirked faintly as he eavesdropped on their conversation.

“It is a bit chilly, but the sunlight feels warm, so it’s alright.”

Najane leaned her body against Maximón’s shoulder. Maximón glanced briefly toward where Belshua was standing before tightly gripping Najane’s hand.

“Your body feels warmer than the sunlight.”

Najane stifled a laugh at Maximón’s comment.

“Well, someone’s been fussing over me so much—making me wear warm clothes, drink only warm water, and sit by the fire—that my body can’t help but stay toasty.”

Whenever Najane sniffled, Maximón would pile logs into the fireplace and order the maids to add extra curtains to the windows. Despite already having two thick layers of curtains on each window, he wasn’t satisfied and replaced the window coverings entirely. 

Maximón believed blocking out the cold was the ultimate way to safeguard Najane’s health, so he badgered merchants to bring new winter supplies: soft, warm pajamas and undergarments, vests and cardigans for layering, shawls, even socks and gloves lined with fluffy material, heavy coats fit for polar expeditions, and fur-lined boots.

He made sure she drank freshly boiled water and forbade her from eating anything cold. Desserts were always served warm, and whenever she woke up thirsty at night, he personally poured lukewarm water from the kettle kept on the fireplace and handed it to her.

Maximón treated Najane as though she might vanish if exposed to the winter winds, cherishing her as if she were the most fragile thing in the world. Even though what was truly wearing away wasn’t Najane’s body anymore, but time itself, he acted like an obsessive-compulsive person who couldn’t bear the anxiety unless he took every precaution.

She could only get him to relent with cute threats. Najane smiled faintly at the worried gaze fixed on her.

“But being out here like this, don’t you feel like you understand why birds only perch on sunlit branches?”

Instead of answering, Maximón intertwined his fingers with Najane’s. When Najane turned to look at him, their eyes met. He gazed at her as though she were the only beautiful, shining thing in his world.

Perhaps feeling sorry for how her small frame was slowly growing colder, he pulled her closer into his arms. This moment felt perfect to Najane—to lounge in the warm embrace of the one she loved while basking in the winter sun.

“This is the first time we’ve been this leisurely at noon. By now, we’d usually be busy with training or other tasks…”

Her voice trailed off as Najane looked at the barren trees with a wistful expression.

“The flowers in Noctis will bloom beautifully in spring. It would be wonderful to see that…”

Najane thought the days were passing far too quickly. There wasn’t enough time to gather her thoughts and accept her fate. She had once dreamed of living long enough to see the end of the war with Serith and writing about it like an essay, but now she barely had time to reflect on her own life.

The one consolation was finding Luna. The thought of reuniting with her younger sibling soon brought Najane happiness. Of course, spending spring in Noctis with kindred spirits would have been even better…

Leaning against Maximón’s shoulder, Najane lowered her gaze. Maximón, looking down at her, squeezed her hand gently and spoke softly.

“When spring comes, let’s ride out beyond the fortress walls and live there. There are many flowering trees, and the scenery will always be beautiful.”

At those words, Najane lifted her head.

Live outside the fortress? What could that mean?

“…Surely you’re not suggesting we desert?”

When Najane asked in a flustered tone, Maximón gave a brief laugh.

“No.”

“Then… is this a date proposal?”

“I’m formally asking to live together with you.”

Maximón’s gaze was deep, serious, and sincere. Najane could tell he wasn’t speaking lightly. Formally… There was no way she couldn’t understand what that meant. Instead of answering, Najane averted her eyes.

If it had been the past, she would have been overjoyed to hear those words. But now, Najane’s body was in such a fragile state that she could die at any moment without warning. Even as they were talking, she could suddenly cough up blood and pass away.

Najane tried hard to conceal her stiffened expression and attempted to pull her hand away from Maximón’s. However, Maximón refused to let go of her hand under any circumstances. Startled, Najane forced herself to look at him. Beneath the winter sunlight, his emerald-green eyes shimmered with love.

“I may be engaged to a woman from the Marquis of Rochelle family, but a few days ago, I sent an official letter to my family requesting an annulment.”