SOTBW - 247

Luna took a step back from Najane and let out a small laugh. Covering her face with both hands, she laughed hysterically before contorting her features into something almost grotesque.  

Her eyes, identical to Najane’s, brimmed with deep betrayal.  

“Are you looking for reasons in me again, Sister? Even if I told you why that man threatened me, what would you do about it? Why do you assume I’m the one at fault? Don’t you think he might have acted that way because he’s irrational and dangerous?”  

Luna shot back, her expression flushed, before turning her back on Najane as if she couldn’t bear to look at her any longer.  

“How long will you keep disappointing me…? What is it about that man, that man…!”  

A shrill scream echoed through the room.  

Najane stared at Luna’s back with tear-filled eyes before lowering her head.  

“You’re right. Maximón is a dangerous person. He shows no mercy. That’s why everyone fears him and treads carefully in his presence. They flinch, tremble, and feel anxious at his words. No one stands tall before him. As a noble and the leader of the knights, he holds immense power and possesses the strength to overturn the fortress’s rules overnight—no one can oppose him.”  

She calmly agreed with her sister’s words.  

Luna turned to Najane, bewildered.  

“…But even so, I love him.”  

Tears spilled from Najane’s eyes as she gazed endlessly at the floor.  

“Luna.”  

Her desperate call went unanswered. Najane sighed softly, unable to meet Luna’s gaze.  

“I don’t have much time left. I’ll probably… die before spring comes.”  

Najane covered her wet eyes with her palm and swallowed her trembling voice.  

“So… if my actions hurt you, I’ll still do as I wish.”  

Luna remained silent.  

Najane knelt where the ashes had spilled, her shoulders hunched as she fought back tears.  

“I’m sorry, Luna. I’m so, so sorry…”  

“…”  

“…I want to marry Maximón.”  

Najane finally looked up at Luna after lowering her hand. Luna’s face was eerily expressionless. It was impossible to tell whether she was stunned into silence by the news of her sister’s impending death, indifferent, or had known all along.  

Still kneeling, Najane gently took Luna’s hand. This time, Luna didn’t pull away. She simply stared at Najane with an almost cruel coldness.  

Najane rested her forehead against her sister’s hand as if pleading with God.  

“…I’ll find a house for you near the fortress.”  

She whispered in a strained voice, as though confessing a sin.  

“Leave Romsoa, Luna.”  

---  

“Najane has returned from seeing her sister.”  

The knight responsible for guarding the residence reported to Maximón. It wasn’t surprising since Najane going to see Luna was expected. The only concern was what that fake Luna might have said to Najane.  

“When did she leave? Last evening?”  

“No, just a short while ago. She returned to the residence a few minutes before you arrived.”  

“How long was she gone?”  

“Less than thirty minutes.”  

“Did she dress warmly when she left?”  

Maximón’s gaze sharpened.

The knight hastily nodded.  

“I personally confirmed that she left wearing a robe and a scarf.”  

“How many soldiers accompanied her?”  

“Two. According to the soldiers, they didn’t follow her into the maid’s quarters.”  

“If Najane leaves the residence again, assign four soldiers from now on.”  

“Understood.”  

Maximón removed his gloves as he entered the residence. It was hard to predict what state Najane would be in. One thing was certain—if she had met with Luna, her heart would surely be troubled.  

After hesitating for a moment, he opened the inner door and saw Najane’s back as she sat on the couch opposite the fireplace. Relieved to find her at home, he quietly closed the door behind him while cautiously observing her demeanor.  

Unaware of Maximón’s presence, Najane stared blankly at the roaring flames in the hearth. Her stillness made her appear deeply uneasy, lost in thought.  

After rubbing his cold palms together to warm them, Maximón stepped behind the couch and gently cupped Najane’s ears with both hands. Startled, Najane tilted her head back and, upon seeing Maximón, let out a faint laugh.  

Her eyes, still heavy with traces of tears, forced a smile. Maximón’s lips brushed against her forehead, then trailed down the bridge of her nose. Like water flowing over smooth skin, his lips finally reached hers.  

Their lips met softly. Najane’s smile was palpable. Only then did Maximón feel a sense of relief.  

“Welcome back,” he murmured, pulling away slightly and gazing down at her with a warm smile. Najane patted the spot beside her, signaling him to sit and warm himself.  

Maximón carelessly tossed his sword onto a nearby table and settled beside her. She leaned into him, resting her body against his shoulder. His rough fingers tenderly caressed her cheek, every touch brimming with affection.  

“Were you cold last night?”  

At Maximón’s question, Najane chuckled softly.  

“You must have been colder than me…”  

“I don’t feel the cold much, so I’m fine.”  

“Even so…”  

Najane recalled how she had wandered around the field to keep her toes from freezing. The Seriths’ blood was icy, like freezing water—when it splattered not just on skin but even armor, it seemed to steal away body heat.  

The Bastronia Kingdom, located in the north, grew bitterly cold during winter, chilling one to the bone. No matter how many torches were lit, the biting winds sweeping across the field couldn’t be avoided.  

Thinking of those who guarded the frozen field, Najane lightly traced the calloused, hardened palms of Maximón’s hands. Though there was no sensation, Maximón pretended to endure the ticklish feeling and firmly held her fingers.  

Najane playfully tugged at his hand as if asking to be released, then cradled the back of his hand in hers. As she bent his wrist inward, it throbbed slightly. It seemed Luna’s forceful rejection had caused more impact than expected.  

Ignoring the dull ache in her wrist, Najane held onto the back of Maximón’s hand. But Maximón, noticing the faintest twitch of her eyebrows, immediately and carefully grasped her slender wrist. His long, thick fingers gently rubbed along the delicate bones of her wrist.  

“Are you hurt?”  

Maximón asked with concern. Without answering, Najane simply watched his hand tenderly stroking her wrist. Her eyes gradually grew moist as an indescribable emotion welled up deep within her chest.  

As her breath hitched and came out in uneven gasps, his rough fingertips wiped away the tears at the corners of her eyes. Tears trickled down his fingers. He didn’t ask why she was crying. Instead, he lifted her into his arms and seated her on his lap, embracing her tightly as though comforting a child unable to contain their sorrow.  

Remembering the knight’s report about Najane visiting Luna, Maximón gently stroked her thin shoulders. Najane cried silently, without making a sound. He said nothing, only lightly tending to her sore wrist, letting her cry freely in his arms.  

“…I plan to look for a house for Luna to live in.”  

Najane whispered in a hoarse voice after her tears subsided. Surprised by this unexpected statement, Maximón looked closely at her.  

Having cried her fill, she seemed somewhat relieved, rubbing her wet eyes and exhaling a short sigh. Her tear-streaked gaze, once clouded with sadness and catharsis, now fixed on Maximón.  

Through her damp eyes, Maximón’s figure appeared translucent. Najane was sincere. She truly intended to send Luna away from the Romsoa Knights. This decision was tantamount to choosing Maximón over her sister.

The unexpected words left Maximón’s expression momentarily frozen. He wanted to openly express his joy, but he hesitated, fearing it might hurt Najane. Yet, pretending to lament Luna’s departure felt impossible because he was simply too overjoyed. His eyes darted around nervously before he slowly lowered his gaze. He couldn’t fathom the depth of Najane’s emotions when she had let go of Luna’s hand.

Maximón buried his face, which was beginning to flush with heat, into Najane’s shoulder. The overwhelming love pouring out toward him made it hard to breathe. He wanted to calm himself for her sake.

He inhaled deeply, savoring each breath, but it was futile. His heart raced uncontrollably, pounding so fast that it made his chest churn. It felt as though if he were to slit his throat now, hot, crimson blood would gush forth.

With great effort, Maximón lifted his flushed face to meet Najane’s gaze. Najane cupped his cheek and chuckled softly, as if resigned to his reaction.

“Are you really this happy?”

“…I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be… I mean…”

“What do you mean?”

“I know I shouldn’t feel this way. You… you’ve been through so much. I’m sorry. Just… sorry.”

Though Maximón apologized sincerely, his lips curled upward involuntarily. His emerald-green eyes shimmered with excitement and joy. The happiness surging through his body became impossible to contain.

Najane had chosen him.

Now, he was her first priority.

Unable to hide his elation, Maximón pulled her tightly into his arms. A strange, almost foolish laugh escaped him. He knew he shouldn’t be acting this way, considering Najane’s emotional state, yet laughter kept bubbling out uncontrollably.

He had longed for this moment for what felt like an eternity. The distant, dreamlike wish that had stretched on endlessly was finally coming true, and tears began to well up slowly in the corners of Maximón’s eyes.

Maximón felt the creases and unyielding edges he had been born with—traits that no amount of hardship could wear down—melting away under the warmth of Najane’s love. This was a love no one could deny.

He embraced her as if offering his entire life. His nose tingled, and his throat tightened. Tears flowed freely, washing away the anxiety that had plagued him for so long. Maximón laughed through his tears.

“Najane…”

Holding her small frame tightly, as if binding her to him, Maximón closed his eyes, unable to stop the tears from overflowing.

“…I will never forget how you loved me, no matter what.”

At those words, Najane forgot the guilt she had carried for Luna. Maximón was both infinitely endearing and achingly precious to her.

Najane wrapped her arms firmly around his back. His large frame trembled with emotion, and the weight of his feelings transferred directly to her. It was as if Maximón, who had never cried in his life, was shedding tears for the first time.

She was happy. Even though she had decided to send her beloved sister away, there was no sadness—only a profound sense of relief, as if everything had finally fallen into place.

Najane cradled Maximón’s tear-soaked cheeks in her palms. As morning sunlight spread over his damp, emerald-green eyes, they sparkled like gemstones, breathtakingly beautiful. This moment felt utterly perfect, leaving nothing more to desire.

Maximón grasped Najane’s hand tightly, laughing through tear-filled eyes. Najane pressed her forehead gently against his.

“I love you, Maximón… Please don’t cry…”

Her tender whisper broke him completely, and Maximón closed his eyes, overwhelmed. A blinding brightness enveloped him. He could see nothing, think of nothing.

It was as if he were staring directly at the sun; his vision flickered white behind closed eyelids. Even with his eyes shut, he remained bathed in light. It was dazzling, warm, soft, deep, and comforting.

Tears gathered beneath his closed lids. When he opened them, Najane’s slender fingers wiped away his tears.

Maximón gazed at the embodiment of his love.

Najane opened her mouth and smiled brightly.

“Don’t worry about anything anymore, my love.”