When she heard the man’s words, Laerte’s shoulders tightened and her back stiffened.

“A child…”

She knew the truth all too well.

The hunters were preying on her clan because they knew their weakness: no child could be conceived within the forest. A wound could be survived, but she was certain that some lives had already been surrendered to the forest as wandering spirits tonight.

For their sacrifice to mean anything, Laerte would also have to bear a child tonight.

The Henant clan rarely conceived anyway. Without the forest’s blessing, pregnancy was impossible. Only after a wedding held beyond the barrier could a woman carry a child, and even then, the chances were greatest during the first three nights.

If that window was missed, it was dangerous to linger outside for long. After that, there was nothing to do but wait month after month for the uncertain day when a child might finally arrive.

‘But…’

The weight of it all was more than Laerte could bear. In her mind, she knew she must fulfill her duty to the clan, that even the switch of her groom was something she ought to endure—but her heart refused.

When the stranger’s hand reached toward her, as though to undo the single thin cord holding up her bridal gown, Laerte instinctively seized his hand.

“Wait.”

A jolt of revulsion surged through her. The duty had been etched deep into her mind over long years. She knew well that she could not alone escape what all before her had borne. And yet, Laerte was not in her right mind. The absence of the one with whom she had shared her heart left her confused.

“When did you know you would be wed tonight?”

At her question, the man replied,

“Yesterday.”

“Ah…”

Laerte let out a small sound.

‘So Vito went to another woman.’

It was not uncommon for the bride or groom to change their minds on their wedding day. Sometimes this was because the bride was struck down with stomach pains before leaving the forest, or because her body was not ready for the wedding night. Sometimes it was because someone had overslept. Other times, it was because they had mistaken the wedding date and gone to work instead.

She had always heard such tales told as trifling jokes.

‘And now it’s my story.’

No doubt Vito had fled somewhere to spend the night with the woman he had been paired with. For a moment, the faces of friends who might also have been matched and married tonight crossed her mind.

Yet the thought that none of them saw the act as one of love between lovers, but rather as breeding—a duty of survival—brought Laerte little comfort.

“I didn’t know it would be you.”

Sensing her unease, he asked,

“Did you have another beloved?”

Among the clan, none failed to notice Vito trailing after Laerte. Only those of the merchant guild who dwelled outside the barrier might not know.

“…There was a friend my age.”

At first, Vito’s pursuit was one-sided, but Laerte gradually opened her heart to him. Their connection felt as natural as water.

“Everyone around us said he was mine. But he isn’t.”

With a start, Laerte closed her mouth.

Should she really confide such things to the man who would be her husband? Instinct told her no. She was still closer to a girl than a woman, never having lain in a man’s arms—but she knew at least this much: if one were to be another’s wife, there had to be trust. To speak of another man could never be wise.

With effort, she turned the question back on him.

“And you? Did you have another woman?”

Her eyes fell to the tattoo on his arm. The design given to those of the guild—an emblem of a black hexagon encircled by the spread wings of a bat, symbol of the sacred crystal Henant.

Like bats who lived between forest and sky, so were the people of the merchant guild: those who moved freely between the inside and the outside.

“I heard guildsmen mingle freely even with those outside the barrier.”

Within the barrier, there was an abundance of everything one could need, including food and clothing.

The forest remained temperate year-round, allowing everything to thrive. Yet they knew that the cities beyond were powerful and useful. These included items such as swords, arrowheads, hammers, axes and shovels.

Being a member of the merchant guild was a rare position, even within the clan. Most clansmen communed with nature. Their powers varied, as did their strength. Laerte could move water, while Vito could communicate with small animals.

However, it was those born without any fairy powers who were chosen. This made them extraordinary. Unable to participate in the forest’s daily activities, they devoted themselves to life beyond it, thereby ensuring the clan’s peace.

Once someone joined the guild, they were never allowed inside the forest again. At the border, goods from the forest were exchanged for items brought in by the guild.

In a sense, guild members sacrificed themselves for the sake of the entire clan. While those within the forest lived leisurely lives surrounded by flowers and butterflies, the guild members took on many responsibilities and solved problems that others could not.

However, guild members were never openly recruited. From a young age, those without power were quietly taken away and raised separately from the rest of the clan. Consequently, nobody knew who truly belonged to the guild. They were so strict in their dealings with the outside world that they never entrusted trade to the younger members. For women in particular, the only time they stepped beyond the barrier was on their wedding night after reaching adulthood.

For Laerte, this was her first time meeting a man from the guild. Though many emotions swirled within her, curiosity outweighed fear.

“Another woman? Is that what you’re asking me?”

He gave a short laugh, as though it were absurd.

“It sounds almost like jealousy.”

At that word, Laerte jumped in protest.

“That’s not what I meant. I only wondered if you, too, had someone else you were to wed tonight.”

“There is no other woman. You are the only one for me.”

“Truly?”

Laerte felt a strange pull toward him. He was like a great boulder.

He was tall, his forearms looked twice or thrice the size of hers. The masculine strength he exuded both drew and frightened her.

‘Vito was never like this.’

Even in the dimness of the cave, she thought that had it been broad daylight, his imposing form would have cast a shadow that completely engulfed her.

Her hands trembled with unease and she felt compelled to say something, anything.

“Take off your mask.”

He hesitated briefly, and though she could not see, she felt his steady gaze fixed on her through the mask. Then, at last, he removed the covering he had worn until now.

Laerte was genuinely awestruck.

‘Wow…’

If she had spoken out loud, she would have seemed foolish, like an awestruck bride gazing at her husband’s face for the first time. At least she was glad that she hadn’t made a spectacle of herself.

“What is your name?”

“Egon.”

“…Egon.”

His eyes were blue.

In the dimly lit cave, the small firelight caught his eye, glinting with shifting hues. They were surely a deep, beautiful blue, like the color of water.

Laerte, who was born with the power of water, liked that. After all, if there was nothing else to like about her, she had to cling to whatever positive thoughts she could.

She was bound to him. Now.

The mere thought of an experience she had never had weighed heavily on her, as though a vague fear had turned into chains binding her fast. Yet at least she thought she could like his eye color.

But soon Laerte’s mind strayed again.

“Laerte, on our first night, I’ll show you the stars.”
“What do you mean? We see plenty of stars every night.”

Vito’s ears had been red.

“No, I’ll pluck one down for you.”

Instead of answering her questions, he would only say such foolish things.

“I’m practicing hard, you know.”

But what he was practicing, or how much, Laerte would never know now. For Vito would never spend that night with her.

‘Vito. He must be safe, right?’

Thankfully, she hadn’t heard his screams. If he had been there, he would certainly have been the loudest, kicking up a fuss. That would have been reassuring.

‘But will I be all right?’

Her thoughts twisted strangely, circling around and returning to where they had started.

The man in front of her was not Vito, but Egon.

“What do you call yourself?”

Startled, Laerte realized that ever since she had asked his name, she had sunk into her own thoughts far too long. She hurried to answer.

“Laerte.”

“…Laerte.”

Strangely, hearing her own name spoken in the man’s deep voice sent shivers down her spine. He had merely said her name, nothing more, yet it now felt awkward, as though lined with fine, soft down, despite having meant nothing even after Vito had called it hundreds, thousands of times.

Egon drew in a small breath as though he were tense, then placed his hand on her shoulder.

Laerte jolted in fright and sprang upright.

“Not here.”

For old Bona had taught her that what happened on the first night was like birds pressing together in their nest.

“If you lie still, the man will press his body firmly against yours from above.”

She said that children were made by lying where the breath of the forest flowed, belly to belly with a man pressing down on top of her.

However, there was nowhere in the cave where they could lie so comfortably. The ground was made of rough stone, and at best, one could lean against a large rock. Even for slight Laerte, there was nowhere to lie down.

“Why not?”

“Because… there’s nowhere to lie down.”

Pfft.

Egon’s reaction made Laerte feel as if he were amused by her words. Heat rose to her cheeks before she realized it.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Well. It sounds as though you don’t quite know how children are made.”

At his words, Laerte’s brows knitted. It felt as though he were belittling her, and it stung. Still, she could not bring herself to admit her ignorance in such a moment.

“Ah—”

Before she could say or do anything else, the man pulled her suddenly into his arms. He gripped the back of her head with one large hand while tracing along her back with the other and untying the cord of her bridal gown.

Laerte could only manage to take shallow breaths over and over again. With each one, the unfamiliar scent of his body filled her mind.

Her bare skin pressed against that of a man whose name was still unfamiliar to her.

Facing each other and locked in his embrace, he carefully kissed her on the forehead.

Laerte froze, stiff with awkwardness.

Then Egon’s lips brushed her ear as he whispered softly.

“I’ll teach you. Until a child is conceived.”