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When the morning sun rose, Najane left her residence alone. Beyond the fortress walls, the horizon was gradually being painted red by the sunlight. The soldiers didn’t ask where she was going but followed her at a respectful distance.
The two soldiers walking several paces behind her didn’t seem to be guarding her so much as they appeared obligated to report her every move to someone. It was obvious who had given them that order.
Najane tightened the emerald-green robe Maximón had once gifted her and turned to look at the two soldiers.
“I’m going to the maid’s quarters. Don’t come in—just wait outside.”
The soldiers didn’t argue with her. They simply saluted in acknowledgment.
Najane continued down the hill path.
After sending Maximón off to the field, she had spent the hours until dawn alone, lost in thought. Both people were precious to her. If asked to choose whom she loved more, she would have been utterly incapable of deciding.
She pitied and felt sorrow for Luna, who had suffered greatly at Maximón’s hands, but she firmly believed he wouldn’t have resorted to violence against her family without reason. Asking him what he had done to Luna, who was clearly traumatized, would have been foolish.
Even so, Najane trusted Maximón.
Neither Maximón nor Luna had provided specific details about their conversation that day. While it was unclear why Luna was keeping quiet about it—perhaps she had provoked him first—it wasn’t hard to imagine.
This wasn’t an excuse for Maximón’s actions, of course. What had happened yesterday had deeply shocked both Najane and Luna. Maximón surely knew that, which was likely why he had offered to apologize to Luna.
Najane sighed deeply, her shoulders rising and falling with the weight of her breath. Her white exhalation scattered into the cold air. Her emotions were too tangled to draw a simple conclusion about yesterday’s events, but she knew she needed to clarify her stance on the matter. By taking a clear position, she accepted that one of them might get hurt—but it couldn’t be helped.
Najane realized it was time to talk to Luna about her condition. She wondered how Luna would react if she revealed that her days were numbered. She couldn’t even begin to imagine. She wasn’t even sure if Luna would grieve over her impending death.
Luna, whom Maximón had brought back, was undoubtedly her younger sister, yet sometimes she felt like a completely different person. Still, Najane understood. Considering all that Luna had endured, Najane knew she had to accept her, even if understanding was difficult.
Just thinking about what Luna had suffered at the hands of those men made Najane feel as though her heart was collapsing into despair. How much resentment and hatred must Luna have carried while enduring such pain? It was enough to make even the most cheerful and lively person hate the world.
And Najane felt immense guilt knowing that her beloved sister had endured such horrors because of her. She had tried to prioritize Luna’s feelings as much as possible. If she had been healthy, she would have done so without hesitation. If she’d had many years ahead of her, she might have placed Luna’s emotions above Maximón’s.
She would have rented a house near the Romsoa Knights and stayed with Luna until she regained stability. But, regrettably, Najane was someone who could die tomorrow without anyone finding it strange. She didn’t want to leave behind regrets. That’s why she decided to prioritize her own feelings over Maximón or Luna’s. For Najane, today mattered more than tomorrow.
Najane entered the maid’s quarters to see Luna. The diligent maids were already gone, leaving the place empty. Najane was relieved no one was there—just in case Luna erupted in anger again like yesterday.
After steadying herself, Najane knocked gently on the door, careful not to wake her sister if she were sleeping. To her surprise, the door suddenly swung open with unnecessary force. Startled by the aggressive gesture, Najane froze.
Luna, equally surprised to see Najane, stared at her. Inside the room, an untouched meal sat abandoned. It looked like dinner. Najane felt a pang of pity knowing Luna had skipped meals, but she calmly greeted her sister.
“Good morning, Luna. Did you sleep well last night?”
Though Najane spoke warmly, Luna ignored her greeting. It seemed her anger hadn’t subsided yet. Casually kicking aside the uneaten dinner, Luna stood firmly in the doorway, blocking Najane from entering.
“Why are you here?”
Luna’s tone was sharp.
Najane smiled warmly, trying to ease the tension.
“I wanted to check if you’re okay.”
“As you can see, I’m fine. So, are we done here?”
Luna moved to close the door, clearly wanting nothing more to do with Najane for now. Najane quickly wedged her foot in the gap to stop her.
“If you’re awake, can we talk for a moment?”
Luna hesitated mid-motion, caught off guard.
“Is this about what happened yesterday?”
“Yes, partly. But there’s something else I need to discuss with you.”
Luna sensed that Najane had made her decision regarding the ultimatum she had given—to choose between family or love. The sharpness in Luna’s expression softened slightly.
“…Come in.”
As Luna stepped back, the door opened naturally. Najane first checked the untouched meal. The food on the tray wasn’t particularly meager. The stew, which had likely been warm when brought in, contained more meat than vegetables, and there was a generous portion of thickly sliced bread.
She gazed at the untouched food with concern before turning her worried eyes to Luna. The room was bitterly cold, enough for their breaths to form visible clouds. It seemed the fireplace hadn’t been lit again.
Najane took off her robe as she looked at the pile of ash in the hearth. As she began clearing the ashes and stacking firewood, Luna pulled her arm.
“Stop that and talk first.”
Luna’s hand was icy cold. Najane held her sister’s freezing fingers, suppressing her frustration. She couldn’t stand by and watch her own sibling neglect her health.
“Luna, you’ll get sick if you stay this cold.”
Najane spoke as gently as she could. She didn’t want to lose her temper with Luna. But despite her efforts, Luna pulled Najane away from the fireplace and snapped coldly:
“I can take care of myself.”
That statement felt out of place in the current situation. No family member could remain indifferent upon seeing a neglected meal left in such a freezing room.
Najane brushed her bangs back with both hands and looked down at the cold floor creeping up on her. It seemed Luna was deliberately behaving this way, as if protesting that she was being left in this miserable state because of her sister and that despicable Maximón.
Watching Luna sit deliberately by the frosty window, Najane returned to the fireplace. As she scraped away the ashes, Luna finally raised her voice:
“I told you not to do that! I don’t need a fire—I just want you to say what you came to say and leave! I said I’ll handle it myself!”
Luna snatched the dustpan filled with ashes and shouted at Najane, her eyes brimming with irritation. Najane calmly soothed her as she gazed at the scattered ash on the floor.
“You should’ve lit the fire and eaten properly so I wouldn’t worry.”
“Do you think I can even swallow food right now?”
Luna sneered, incredulous.
“You left me here alone, obsessed with that man—why are you pretending to care now?”
“Luna.”
Though Najane thought Luna’s words were excessive, she maintained her composure. Seeing Najane’s calm demeanor, Luna sneered. She disliked Najane’s attitude, which seemed like she was looking at someone else’s incomprehensible anger.
Feeling uneasy, Luna bit her nails, her expression wounded.
“Stop being so hypocritical, Sister. Do you really love that man so much? And yet he calls you ‘Najane,’ not ‘Emaydis.’ Do you even know which family you belong to? Do you know your real name?”
Luna spat out her words. Najane, standing a few steps away, wore a complicated expression before finishing sweeping up the spilled ash.
After tidying the dirty floor, she no longer insisted on lighting the fireplace. Instead, she quietly approached Luna.
As Najane drew near, Luna flinched. Najane felt an indescribable emotion at how visibly Luna’s shoulders tensed. Luna was overly aggressive yet defensively cornered, like a trapped animal.
Najane gently rubbed Luna’s ragged fingernails, gnawed raw like walls chewed by rats. Her touch was tender. The anxious tension in Luna’s eyes gradually began to ease under Najane’s warmth. Clutching her sister’s deathly cold hand, Najane silently swallowed her pain.
“Luna.”
A soft pressure entered the fingers cradling Luna’s hand. Najane reflected on Luna’s harsh words and thought of Maximón.
“Did you speak to Maximón like that too?”
Caught off guard by the warmth of Najane’s touch, Luna’s eyes shot wide open. Her expression turned icy as she tried to pull her hand away. But Najane held firm, refusing to let go.
“I’m asking if you spoke to Maximón like that yesterday.”
Though sadness tinged Najane’s voice, Luna felt none of it. Shaken by the betrayal of the person she trusted most, Luna trembled her lower jaw before curling her lips into a bitter smirk. The hand held by Najane shook with barely contained rage.
Najane stared directly into Luna’s eyes. The flicker of hatred in her sister’s gaze, surpassing mere loss, made Najane want to run away. The resolve she had mustered before coming to the maid’s quarters wavered like a reed in the wind.
Najane knew what she was doing to her only sibling. She understood the implications of interrogating Luna as if she were at fault. She recognized that her questions caused Luna pain, yet Najane did not back down and continued to face her sister head-on.
“Answer me, Luna.”
When the agitated Luna blurted out words that crossed boundaries without restraint, Najane finally realized the source of the subtle unease she had felt. The Luna who now clung to her hand, openly displaying her fury, was not the sister Najane remembered. She had changed too much—almost as if she were a different person.
Najane tried to accept this sense of disconnect. After all, she had abandoned Luna. She had fled, leaving her beloved sister behind. But if Luna remained in this state, she would inevitably clash with Maximón again someday.
Najane didn’t want the two people she loved to fight.
Having made up her mind, Najane murmured in a trembling voice:
“Luna…”
At that moment, Luna finally yanked her hand free from Najane’s grip. The force of it left Najane’s wrist throbbing. Unlike yesterday, Luna did not scream or shout. She was eerily calm, so much so that it was hard to believe she was the same person who had just hurled insults moments ago. Her face seemed frozen, emotions tangled between disappointment and anger, unable to find expression.