Psst! We're moving!
As the bathroom door opened, a cloud of steam billowed out. Maximón emerged wearing nothing but a loose pair of pants, his bare feet touching the cool floor. He glanced around the now quiet residence; the maids who had been subtly irritating him seemed to have finally left.
Maximón retrieved the ring boxes from the clothes he had discarded earlier. As he held the two small boxes in one hand, an overwhelming sense of uncertainty washed over him. Fidgeting with the boxes, he made his way to the living room. Najane, who should have been on the sofa, was nowhere to be seen. Quietly opening the bedroom door so as not to make a sound, he spotted Najane dozing off at the edge of the bed. It seemed this had become a habitual nap time for her.
Suppressing a smile, Maximón gently closed the door and shook the water from his damp hair. Najane must have been waiting there patiently for him to finish, but lulled by the soft sunlight streaming through the window, the warmth of the hearth, and the cozy touch of the woolen blanket, she had unknowingly drifted off. Instead of lying down comfortably, she stubbornly remained seated on the bed, her head nodding forward occasionally before jerking back up. Watching her struggle to stay awake filled him with both pity and affection—it was utterly endearing.
He was about to tell her to lie down and rest when a mischievous thought crossed his mind. Moving silently to stand by the window, he wondered how long it would take for her to notice him. Leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed, Maximón watched Najane’s silhouette bathed in golden sunlight filtering through the shadows.
The sunlight streamed in through the lattice-patterned window, casting warm rays onto the deep green, fluffy blanket covering the bed. The wooden bed emitted the faint scent of aged timber, while the bookshelf—crafted from solid wood—held books left behind by those who had passed through this residence. Wooden boards had been attached to the stone walls in an attempt to make the cold house slightly warmer, and crude paintings hung here and there to soften the rustic feel. A round table with ornate leg decorations stood nearby, surrounded by several candles placed by the window. A beige carpet embroidered with various floral patterns lay beneath Najane’s softly resting feet.
Najane...
Najane...
My Najane...
Unaware of his presence, Najane suddenly jolted awake, lifting her head with a start. Surprised that she had fallen asleep, she absentmindedly wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand and cautiously opened the door, likely thinking Maximón was still in the bathroom.
Maximón quietly observed her movements.
Najane peeked out into the empty living room, then slowly backed away and plopped back down at the foot of the bed. She seemed a little disheartened that Maximón hadn’t come out yet. He swallowed a chuckle.
Come to think of it, the two of them always took naps together during this time.
Once, they had spent two sleepless days tracking down a group of criminals who had murdered innocent people and fled across the border. Since Najane had grown up taking naps at set times, staying awake for two nights straight had taken a heavy toll on her. Upon returning to their home, she had cutely begged him to let her sleep, clinging to him like a child.
Though she was usually a positive person who rarely complained, when things got tough, she would occasionally throw little tantrums—but only ever with Maximón. And those moments were impossibly adorable.
Maximón kissed her drooping eyelids tenderly and sang her a lullaby just for her. Suffering from insomnia for years, even he could fall asleep quickly whenever he held Najane close.
Lost in the memory, Maximón smiled faintly but quickly suppressed it. For a fleeting moment, Najane’s brown hair appeared silver. Startled, he rubbed his eyes, but her hair was still its usual earthy hue.
Coincidentally, Najane was vigorously rubbing her eyes as if vowing not to fall asleep again. To shake off the drowsiness—or perhaps simply out of habit—she hummed a tune while swinging her legs slowly up and down. It was a song Maximón didn’t recognize, likely from Kalonosia.
Silently, he listened to her humming, careful not to make a sound. Like a child splashing in water, her legs moved rhythmically, causing her long hair cascading over the bed to sway gently.
Following the ends of her long brown locks with his gaze, Maximón lowered his eyes to the floor.
Najane, how many more days will we be able to spend together?
The love he thought he’d firmly grasped slipped through his fingers like grains of sand—not because of anyone else’s fault, but due to his own fear and foolishness.
His vision began to blur, whether from the dazzling sunlight flooding the room or from the sight of Najane still sitting at the edge of the bed, oblivious to his presence, lost in her wait for him. Her senses had dulled so much that she hadn’t noticed him enter.
Like the hazy sunlight stretching into the room, Maximón’s view gradually grew dimmer. The scene reflected in his eyes—so beautiful, yet so lonely—was almost too much to bear. He had faced many challenges alone, taking responsibility for his actions, but Najane’s impending death was a wrong he couldn’t fix, no matter what.
Once, when Maximón was young, he had asked Edwin why he hadn’t remarried. At the time, Edwin had replied, “Because I still cry unexpectedly.”
Maximón hadn’t understood what he meant back then, but now he did.
He finally understood why Edwin couldn’t bring himself to throw away old books when tidying up, why he drank tea while facing an empty chair, and why he stared so intently at fingerprints found in the corners of windows...
At that moment, Najane, who had been combing her hair with her fingers, turned around. Seeing Maximón standing by the window, she gasped in surprise. Her wide, round eyes were adorable. Realizing he had finally been spotted, Maximón scooped her up and playfully collapsed onto the bed with her.
Najane let out a short squeal just as Maximón kissed her. He swallowed her teasing scream with a deep kiss. Najane didn’t resist; instead, she parted her lips slightly. The softness of her tongue conveyed its warmth directly.
Maximón breathed her in deeply, pressing their bodies closer together. As Najane’s arms pulled his neck toward her, they became completely entwined. Their tongues intertwined, their lips locking perfectly together. The more they rubbed and sucked on each other’s tongues, the more their excitement grew.
Feeling her chest rise and fall heavily, Maximón briefly withdrew to let her catch her breath. From her slightly open mouth came rapid, sweet-scented breaths. Maximón showered kisses around her lips, cheeks, and ears before meeting her gaze again. Najane smiled with her eyes, her lips glistening from the kiss.
“Since when were you there?”
“Since you started dozing off.”
Maximón kissed her chin and neck as he spoke. Najane tilted her head back and giggled softly, ticklish from his touch.
“Why didn’t you wake me up…?”
“You looked too cute sleeping.”
Najane pulled Maximón’s head up from where it rested near her chest and kissed him again.
“What time does your training start today?”
“Hmm, probably around now.”
“Can’t you skip it?” Najane asked worriedly.
Maximón propped himself up on one arm and tilted his head.
“Do you want me to go?”
“Well, you are the commander of the knights…”
“If I attend all the training sessions, I’ll have less time to spend with you.”
At those words, Najane unwittingly revealed a hint of disappointment.
“But if you don’t go to training…” She trailed off.
Maximón gently brushed her bangs back and coaxed her tenderly.
“If you tell me not to go, I’ll stay here.”
“And if I tell you to go?”
“I’ll still stay here.”
“What kind of answer is that!”
Laughing in disbelief, Najane tried to sit up, but Maximón held her tightly. She wriggled her arms and legs, trying to escape his embrace. With his strength, he pinned her down and peppered her rosy cheeks with kisses. Najane laughed so hard her cheeks flushed bright red.
At that moment, the pillow they had pushed aside hit the bedside table, causing a small box—no bigger than a palm—to fall with a dull thud.
Startled by the sound, Najane glanced under the bed. Inside the open box lay a pair of rings, sparkling beautifully.
Maximón froze, staring at where Najane’s gaze had stopped. Freed from his grasp, Najane sat up on the bed and picked up the rings. Even someone completely oblivious to worldly matters would recognize them as wedding rings.
She gently touched the emerald-green gem embedded in the center of the ring. Turning to seek an explanation, Najane looked back at Maximón—but he was frozen, his expression unusually stiff, his lips sealed shut.
Despair washed over him. Everything had crumbled into nothing. There was no way Najane would accept a proposal in this awkward atmosphere.
As the thought that everything was ruined washed over him, Maximón’s vision turned dark. He could feel his mouth going dry as he desperately tried to kick his frozen mind into gear. He knew he had to say something—anything—rather than remain silent.
“Najane, that’s…”
Just as Maximón began to explain, Najane slipped the small ring onto her ring finger. To his astonishment, it fit perfectly, as if by magic. He stared blankly at the sparkling ring on her finger before meeting her gaze. Najane examined her hand with the ring from different angles and then smiled softly.
“I rejected your proposal last time. Why did you prepare this?”
She tilted her head in curiosity. Instead of answering, Maximón hastily grabbed her hand, ensuring the ring wouldn’t come off. He even pushed a thimble onto her finger for good measure. Carefully, he kissed the ring shining on her finger and rested his cheek against the back of her small hand.
Najane slowly caressed his cheek, her touch light and ticklish. Her deep emerald-green eyes, far more beautiful and vivid than the gem embedded in the ring, began to glisten with unshed tears. Unable to voice any plea, Maximón kissed each of her five fingers in turn, each kiss carrying the desperate hope that she would agree to marry him.
For some time now, Najane had lived with regret and resignation as constant companions.
If she hadn’t learned ki through Mikael, she would have continued living a miserable life, burdened by even greater regrets left in her past.
The knights of the Powley family often warned her that she might come to regret pursuing ki. Yet, despite knowing how much her current condition was tied to her practice of it, she never regretted picking up the sword in her quest to be like Nellis.
And just as she didn’t regret loving Maximón, even though he had hidden the secrets of ki from her, she realized something in that moment.
Only when she made a decision entirely for herself could she live without regret.
Whether this decision was right or wrong, Najane didn’t know. All she knew was that she wanted to become Maximón’s wife. That was all she desired at this moment.
It was only as she drew closer to death that she finally stopped fearing anything. Let them call her a whore, spread false rumors, point fingers, mock her like an animal trapped in a cage, or laugh at her as a lovesick fool—it no longer mattered.
Tears streamed down her closed eyelids.
With tear-streaked cheeks, Najane grasped Maximón’s hand and smiled through her tears.
“…Marry me.”
Maximón’s eyes, which had been brimming with fear of rejection, slowly brightened with hope. Overcome with emotion, Najane leaned into him, noticing his heart pounding fiercely against his chest. His own eyes were now red with suppressed tears.
In a voice thick with emotion, Najane whispered:
“Become my husband, Maximón…”