LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 31
“Miss.”
A little past midnight.
A profound silence had settled over the snowy field, so deep that the soft breathing of a passing bird could be distinctly heard.
Even though Kalen had called out from outside the tent, and Serasie responded from within, the clarity of their voices was undoubtedly due to this silence.
“Why?”
“Are you still awake?”
“My sleep hasn’t come easily.”
The expression on Serasie’s face from the meeting earlier hadn’t been good. Having already declared that she had no allies, Serasie now appeared to have lost her only supporter once again.
It would indeed be strange for her not to feel disturbed.
“Even you, Kalen, are uncomfortable with this plan, aren’t you? Do you want to leave now?”
“Not in the least.”
“You’re lying.”
As Kalen recalled Serasie’s expression, he quietly raised his eyes towards the tranquil moon hanging in the sky. The moonlight shone beautifully over the quiet silence, leaving a rather striking impression.
“It’s about Mr. Makbel.”
Kalen thus hesitantly brought up a rather sensitive topic. Serasie’s wound seemed grievous, no matter how much one thought about it. There were a few instances when she had acted in ways that revealed her suffering, yet perceptive Kalen chose to act as though he didn’t notice, to give her some consideration.
It seemed as if she was trying to suppress her wounds. Serasie appeared to console herself and pretend she was fine, forcibly ignoring her pain.
Was it right to dig up such carefully hidden wounds and sprinkle salt on them? Perhaps the best thing for Serasie’s happiness would be to let them lie undisturbed.
However, the road she had chosen was the opposite—an arduous one. If she truly wanted to emerge victorious in the civil war and save the North, this was a confrontation she had to face.
“Since when have we been on the same side?”
“Hmm, I haven’t specifically counted, but it’s been a long time. He approached me soon after the civil war began, wanting to be of help.”
“What about Sir Cradders?”
“Sir Cradders… he once calmed me when I was agitated over the shabby carriage given to us during an especially challenging time. The carriage was old, but it somehow managed to get us here.”
Kalen couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle as he reflected momentarily on the carriage they had used when they came to the Hiart family’s estate.
It was an attempt to settle the mood before beginning a heavy conversation. After all, preparation of the heart is always necessary, whatever the matter at hand.
“I feel a little cautious bringing this up, considering I’ve only been here in the North and serving Miss Serasie for a short time.”
“What’s wrong?”
“That person—it’s better to keep your distance from him.”
A renewed silence blanketed the snowy field.
Kalen used this silence for courage before continuing.
“He advised too dangerous a course of action. If cleaning out the monsters could have easily secured the people’s hearts by simply killing many, the North would have done it already.”
“…”
“I doubt even if the current Duke is a trashy one partial to his children, that such risky strategies are advisable when previous dukes couldn’t execute such plans, Miss.”
Serasie’s voice, which reached Kalen’s ears, was as smooth and gentle as always. Yet, there was a slight hesitancy that could be felt—a sense of holding back quivering emotions.
“Is that all?”
“Master Toren.”
Kalen slightly closed his eyes, which had been staring at the moonlight.
“I found it odd how Mr. Makbel addressed Master Toren.”
“—At least it’s better than Master Toren.”
“—Sir.”
The word ‘Sir’ caught Kalen’s attention.
The reason Kalen found it strange was precisely this.
It didn’t seem odd that someone who had long been dedicated to the Hiart family would use a respectful tone when addressing the Hiart family’s lord.
However, Serasie was right there.
They were in the middle of a civil war, brainstorming ways to reverse their disadvantage, yet Makbel continued to use an honorific to refer to the other side.
This was definitely unusual.
There was no need for it.
Even if it were an unconscious action, Kalen knew from Makbel’s own admission that he had been on Serasie’s side for quite some time.
To make ‘Sir’ feel natural, it would have had to continue consistently.
Kalen could only think Makbel had been persistently using such a respectful title when referring to Master Toren.
Furthermore, the dangerous proposal mentioned earlier.
In such a critical period of civil war, it was hard to construe it in a positive light.
Thus, Kalen, who had revealed a vulnerable side, waited quietly for a response.
After some time had passed, Serasie’s usually smooth and gentle voice returned, but now slightly softer.
“I know.”
“…Yes?”
“I know. I’ve noticed Makbel’s behavior is somewhat odd.”
It was, in fact, natural.
Kalen had only been around for a short while but had noticed; it would be absurd if Serasie, who had spent years together with Makbel, had not.
After all, trust is merely a false promise held by those blinded by hope.
Having defined trust this way, Serasie shut her heart off. Makbel held no particular significance for her.
And yet, the reason she chose to ignore this fact—
Because this was Serasie’s last remaining hope. It was her final line that kept her true to herself.
At the moment she acknowledged Makbel’s betrayal, she feared she would lose even this last stronghold.
Serasie simply couldn’t let go.
She knew what lay beyond was endless darkness.
She understood that this last grasp of hers was holding onto something already a mess.
If she were to let even this go, what would happen to her mind and heart?
Out of sheer terror, Serasie closed her eyes, her trembling hand clutching tightly, trying to hold on.
The moment her oldest trust is betrayed is probably what?
Even though she’s become rather accustomed to these occurrences, Serasie couldn’t face that moment.
As a result, this contradictory relationship came into being.
Serasie knew.
She comprehended that Makbel’s behavior was slightly unusual and that it might well connect to her own suspicions.
That’s why she looked away.
She feared the emotions that might arise the moment she faced the truth.
The moment she realized the people she thought were hers had attempted assassination while they slept.
When she discovered the fact that her father favored her older brother.
After all this repetition and more repetition.
The ‘people’ she once proudly counted as hers, numbering close to several hundred—now not even dozens remained.
“What can I do?”
The forced civility that her older brother instilled against her will began to waver. Would maintaining this little facade reduce the sting of betrayals?
The mask she always wore shook violently.
Under the beautiful silver moonlit snowfield, the fragile wounds of this young girl hung precariously.
“If I acknowledge that all my relationships have been false—”
The very moment the young girl closed her heart to the world.
All that remained was distrust.
To never trust to avoid getting hurt.
To use them before they could betray her.
Yet, all such efforts only culminated in the eventual conclusion that ‘my people’ had also left.
“What can I do?”
Her pain drowned out her pain.
*
“Do you truly think that everything in your relationships being honest is the solution?”
Serasie was surprised. Had she been carried away by the mood?
Not only had she revealed something so deep and private, but she half-expected Kalen to awkwardly try to console her with superficial understanding.
But Kalen spoke matter-of-factly, calm and steady.
“Why must Makbel be the last line you hold onto?”
Serasie remembered their earlier conversations vividly.
Not a relationship built on trust but a mere mutual understanding—an agreement based on mutual interests.
Kalen had promised help to receive the Hiart family’s assistance, and Serasie had reciprocated by promising her own protection until the civil war ended.
There were other unspoken reasons Kalen hadn’t shared, yet the beginning wasn’t rooted in trust.
But an agreement—agreements inherently assume a form of trust.
Trust built on mutual understanding.
If Serasie required that kind of bond, she didn’t need to seek genuine trust.
“I insist, Miss, don’t restrict yourself to merely pure faith. Even the agreement you and I made is founded on trust.”
“How…!”
“And why not?”
Kalen asked, truly bewildered.
“Miss, you long to win the civil war, eject Master Toren, and save the North. Yet, you’re willing to take the bait of an obviously dangerous plan—this is less reasonable than the tantrums of a child.”
To Kalen, this matter was also tied to Drannus. There were plenty of sufficient and overwhelming reasons to advise Serasie this strongly.
Having taken on the role of her protector, it was better to eliminate dangerous options from the beginning.
“Is your relationship with Makbel your final line? If so, hand that line over to me. I will gladly bear it for you.”
“No…”
“I am well aware that our relationship wasn’t born from pure faith, but that can’t be a reason. Trust is something built over time, after all.”
Did she follow Blamia out of trust?
Did she leap to save Sinat out of trust?
Did she avoid turning away from Eliana out of trust?
All of these actions resulted not from pure trust but from the collection of shared memories.
Trust and faith aren’t created instantaneously. They become strong over time.
Even if the foundation lacks pure trust, that’s not necessarily a problem. If Serasie craves trust, why not build it?
By transferring the final line she held to Kalen, by moving the endpoint to a new starting point, Serasie avoids danger.
She acknowledges the trap set by Makbel and decides against falling into it.
“If you truly wish to win the civil war, to achieve that goal, that should be enough.”
That alone is sufficient.
Kalen’s primary responsibility remains Serasie’s protector—steering her away from danger.
“Hand over the line to me and focus on your plan. If you know it’s a trap, don’t walk willingly into it.”
Kalen then closed his half-lidded eyes completely.
Much later, Serasie finally acknowledged his words.