“Se—Selina left a letter for you.”

Calliope said that she had met Selina before travelling to Holchester Prison. Selina had written the letter herself and given it to Calliope, asking her to deliver it once Calix had returned safely.

But on the morning he was due to leave—

Calliope lost the letter.

“I lost the letter, but… I actually read what was written in it.”

Calliope smiled, looking utterly unbothered.

“So I remember everything she wrote.”

Relying on her memory, Calliope rewrote the letter on a piece of fabric that was as similar in texture as possible to Selina’s original stationery.

There it was. Selina’s handwriting was no longer there, but her sincere words remained.

Calix unfolded the letter written on the cloth.

It was just a piece of cloth, yet his hands were shaking so badly that it took him a while to open it fully.

When he finally did, he saw that the contents Selina had left behind were written in clumsy, uneven letters.

***

[Calix.

Tomorrow will be the decisive battle. I don’t think we’ll have time to speak then, so I’m leaving these words in a letter instead.

This may be a far older story than you expect.

Do you know when we first met?

The first time I ever saw you was at the monastery. When I stepped outside and found you washed ashore by the waves, I wondered if I was dreaming.

You were someone I thought would pass through my life only briefly—and yet, you became my dream.

Thank you.

For a long time, I was able to endure a nightmare-like reality by dreaming of you.

That’s why.
That’s why I clung to you so desperately.

You and I were bound by a connection neither of us ever expected. Even knowing you did not want me, I could not stop myself from holding on.

My father threatened to lock me away again if I refused to marry.

…But that was not the reason I clung to you.

The reason you became so desperately precious to me was because you were my dream, and someone like the sun.

I felt that if I drifted away from you, I would lose my light and die.

So, out of selfishness, I reached for you—and you, in your kindness, took my hand.

And I…

I have regretted that moment deeply, from the instant I reached out to you.

I’m sorry.

For making you endure things you never should have had to suffer because of me.

When everything is over, I plan to leave you.

I only want to repay, in whatever way I can, the wrongs I committed against you.

If your heart has eased even a little, please forgive me.

I hope I will not remain as a painful memory to you.

I loved you with every ounce of strength I had.

I have always wished that you—]

_

The letter Calliope had given him ended there.

With trembling hands, Calix frantically searched the page, flipping it over and running his fingers across the paper again and again, as though checking for hidden folds or overlapping lines.

But there was nothing.

The letter ended cleanly—abruptly—as if it truly stopped there. There was no continuation.

“The monastery…?”

Calix let the letter slip from his hands and onto the desk.

It felt unbearably light, but he no longer had the strength to pick it up.

He dragged a trembling hand across his mouth.

Selina knew what had happened at the monastery.

No — she knew more than that.

Was the child he had searched for so desperately Selina?

“That can’t be.”

The child he had seen at the monastery had been far too young. Their limbs had been thin, their body small. They would have been much younger than Selina.

They had to have been…

“…D*mn it.”

In that instant, Calix clutched at his chest, not knowing what he was doing.

The pain was like a sharp object gouging into his heart, leaving him barely able to stand. He tried desperately to endure it, but his thoughts were already spiraling into chaos.

The image of the child wrapped in a robe rose again in his mind.

The child, who had never once revealed their face, slowly drew back the hood.

In that moment, hair as luminous as moonlight spilled free, and pale violet eyes — round and clear — looked at Calix with quiet caution.

The child — no, Selina —

Selina, lifted her small lips and spoke to him.

She said she had been waiting.

She asked why he had come so late.

“Ha…”

He could no longer remain standing.

Calix collapsed to the floor, as though all strength had drained from his body.

Why had he never truly tried to understand Selina?
Why had he failed to see the sincerity she had kept hidden?
Why had he—

Why had he made Selina wait for so long, yet never once tried to understand her?
Why had he never even made a proper attempt to trust her?

What, exactly, had he been so afraid of?

“Seli… na.”

He could barely manage to call her name. His voice was hoarse and dry, like parched earth.

It was a regret that came too late, but he had to ask:

What kind of days had Selina lived through since the Day of the North Wind?

How had she felt when she realized that Callios was actually Calix?

How had she felt watching him hate her? How had she felt when he drove her into mortal danger? What kind of resolve had led her to choose that path?

“Selina.”

Selina. Selina. Selina.

Like a man who had lost all reason, Calix continued to call her name as he traced the lines of the letter she had left behind. He did this over and over again.

In the end, even that letter was gone, replaced by someone else’s handwriting.

Suddenly, the reality of it all became unbearable.

There was not a single trace of Selina left.

Driven by the obsessive thought that he must not keep anything that reminded him of her near him, he had thrown away or burned almost everything.

It was Calix himself who had stepped into the trap.

He had tightened the snare around his own body — a trap bristling with thorns that had closed in and cut into him.

Ultimately, all that was left for Calix was a hollow victory and the absence of the person most precious to him.

“I’m sorry.”

He murmured the words as he traced the letter aimlessly with his fingers.

“I’m sorry, Selina.”

‘This is all my fault.

I made you wait for so long. I made you sad. I put you in danger.

I promise I won’t do it again. I’ll take the blame and accept the consequences.

Please, just come back alive.’

His voice cracked like a dried-up desert and echoed through the study.

But, just as no blade of grass grows on parched land, no one responded to his call.

***

From that day on, Calix took charge of all affairs within the Grand Ducal Castle. However, he grew increasingly haggard with each passing day.

When he wasn’t working, he spent all day shut in his room, clinging to the few remaining belongings of Selina’s.

At first, he thought it would end after a few days.

But even after one month, and then two, he remained locked away, living for nothing but work and Selina.

“It’s clear His Grace has lost his mind. Shouldn’t we start looking for another successor?”

Someone spoke with concern as they watched Calix confine himself to Selina’s bedroom day after day.

“His Grace will return to himself! Stop spouting nonsense and get back to work!”

Alter snapped back immediately, bristling—but his expression was dark.

He, too, was filled with worry as he watched Calix, who showed no sign of returning to his former self.

“Are we really just going to leave His Grace like this? Shouldn’t we do something?”

Unable to endure it any longer, Alter turned to Zenfri, now the chancellor, and asked.

But Zenfri only replied with a sullen expression.

“Do you really think he’d listen to anything we say? His mind’s already gone somewhere else. How do you propose we stop someone like that?”

Zenfri was worried about Calix, but not for the reasons you might expect.

He simply felt that he could understand his friend’s state of mind, if only a little.

When he learned the truth about Selina, he also felt as though something deep within him had collapsed.

As it turned out, Selina was Duke Bryson’s illegitimate daughter. She had never appeared in public since childhood — not because she had been sent away to recover from an illness, but because her father had imprisoned her in order to conceal her existence.

She had been isolated in a deserted place for years, only to be used as a pawn in a political marriage born of her father’s schemes.

According to the investigation, Selina had loved Calix sincerely — so deeply that she had decided to sacrifice her own life to save his.

Yet even death did not unfold as she intended, and she ended up betraying Calix instead.

As Zenfri listened to Selina’s story, sigh after sigh escaped his lips.

‘Why did milady have to live such a tragic life? You should have gotten angry, or made excuses—anything at all.’

He felt sorry for not standing by her properly while she was alive.

If he felt this way, how much more devastating must the aftermath be for Calix?

Zenfri didn’t dare imagine it.

This was why he couldn’t bring himself to heed the advice of others to go to Calix and do something — anything.

“…Still. This can’t go on like this.”

Then, an unexpected person responded to Alter’s call.

It was Sion, who had recently been appointed as the new commander of the knights.

“It seems we really do need to try something.”

Murmuring to himself, Sion turned away.

No one knew what he intended to do—but the look of his retreating back was unmistakably significant.

***

That night.

Once again, Calix was shut inside Selina’s bedroom.

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

“It’s Sion.”

Of course, Calix did not respond.

In fact, he could hear nothing.

His thoughts were already fixed on the moonstone bracelet that Selina had left behind.

Why wouldn’t this damned bracelet tell him where she was?

At that very moment, as these thoughts crossed his mind—

“Your Grace. There is something I must tell you.”

Sion, who had entered the room without him noticing, bowed toward Calix.

“There’s something I haven’t been able to say until now. She made me swear again and again to keep it secret. She even offered to pay me whatever I wanted, so I couldn’t exactly refuse.”

His explanation was unusually long.

But Calix gave no response. He merely stared at Sion with hollow eyes.

“So what I mean is—”

After clearing his throat once, Sion held out a single note toward him.

“If you go here, you should be able to meet the person you’ve been longing for.”