66. Faded Light

Storia, which Felicia entered after a long time, was unchanged. The painting of the stair railing, which had been postponed because of the heat, seemed finally finished, and the flowers used as decorations here and there had been replaced by varieties that could better withstand the cooler breeze. But whether it was that time in the little harbor tavern where they called themselves the Storia band, or now, as Prosiha’s finest troupe, Storia had not changed. They were always Felicia’s friends, always her pride.

“It’s been a while.”

“Dejaire.”

“What brings you here so early?”

“What about you—why are you still awake? It’s midnight for you.”

“I came in at midnight.”

Leaning against the upstairs railing in front of her room, Dejaire greeted her. Felicia hadn’t noticed, but now saw she was still dressed for going out. Maybe someone had been enchanted by her voice again tonight, gifting her a good evening; though tired, Dejaire’s eyes still sparkled. Felicia, meeting the one person she least wanted to see, found her voice shrinking, and it was hard to meet Dejaire’s eyes, but she forced herself to climb the stairs and head to Martin’s office.

“You seem to have been back for a while?”

“There was a bit to do.”

“Marie’s been by several times. She meets Brio often.”

“Ah, I thought so.”

As Felicia reached Dejaire’s floor, Dejaire grabbed her arm, startling her, but Felicia replied calmly. Dejaire seemed to sense something was off with Felicia, but her words circled around the main point.

“What’s the rush?”

“Rush? You look tired, Dejaire.”

“Don’t they say I shine more when I’m tired?”

“…….”

“You’re acting strange, Lady Felicia.”

“What did I do? Like you said, it’s early morning, so I’m just telling you to go rest.”

“Why? You’re acting like someone with a guilty conscience.”

Of course, that circling didn’t last long. Dejaire was not a patient person. This was why Felicia least wanted to meet her. If Marie had visited often, Dejaire would have sensed something was wrong, and since she met with nobles in secret, she’d easily learn stories known only to a few. Even before Felicia spoke, Dejaire surely knew everything. Yet Felicia, unable to prepare lies or excuses, kept her mouth shut, now openly avoiding Dejaire’s gaze as her only answer.

“So did your beloved finally find out?”

“No. It’s not like that.”

“I thought you were the type to mingle freely with the low-born, but turns out you’re the kind who still cares about noble reputation?”

“Dejaire. It’s not like that.”

“I’m not as educated as you, so I can only make crude guesses.”

“…….”

“If you don’t want me to bring up your beloved, then you explain.”

“…….”

“When did Storia become just an option in your oh-so-great life?”

Felicia didn’t answer, knowing Dejaire wouldn’t believe her anyway. As Dejaire said, for Felicia, Storia was never something that could be called an “option.” For her, Storia was the first miracle where her wish came true, her cozy escape and sanctuary, and in a big way, it was herself. But with Dejaire’s resentful gaze gripping her arm so tightly it hurt, Felicia couldn’t offer any excuse or truth to soothe her.

“Dejaire.”

“…….”

“That’s enough. Let her go.”

“Martin!”

Martin’s warm voice cut through the cold lingering in Storia and between the two, as the sunlight began to enter. Dejaire threw Felicia’s arm aside in annoyance, and Martin waited for Felicia to look up at him, then, when their eyes met, motioned her inside and entered his office first.

“At first, you acted like no one else would do, so I wondered what a great lady like you could possibly want.”

“…….”

“Now I see it was just a favor, like the grace of great people.”

“Dejaire…”

“I hoped you’d at least make an excuse. I arrogantly thought we were close enough for that.”

“…….”

“Thank you for your sky-high grace and consideration, My Lady. Thanks to you, I’ve lain in noble arms instead of the street.”

With a slam, Dejaire disappeared into her room, the door echoing through all of Storia. Felicia couldn’t move for a long time. She thought herself a coward for not saying anything, yet felt hypocritical for thinking it was better that way. All her thoughts and feelings felt like they weren’t her own. If only it were a dream, she could have run away.

“My Lady.”

“…Martin.”

Though she heard the sound of Martin’s door and Dejaire’s angry footsteps, Felicia didn’t come, so Martin came out to fetch her again. He’d guessed the situation from Marie’s expressions and the rumors in the noble seats after her visits, but Felicia’s face looked ready to collapse, and even Martin, always relaxed, seemed to sweat nervously.

“If you can’t make tea, would you like a drink?”

“…….”

“I’ll be disappointed if you don’t even respond to my jokes.”

“If you’re going to serve it—”

“…?”

“Just give me what you’re having.”

The clink of glasses stopped as Martin was surprised, but Felicia finally gave a heavy smile for the first time that day, as if to reassure him.

“I’m joking too.”

“You surprised me. Drink it when you’re older.”

“Martin, you do know how old I am, right?”

“Let’s save it for when you’re older.”

“But milk is a bit much.”

“It’s either this or that.”

Martin’s glass, filled with pale brown liquid, clinked dully against Felicia’s glass, full of pure white milk. Martin drank half his glass in one go, but Felicia only sipped hers and set it down, unable to part her lips.

“Storia isn’t the kind of place where one person’s absence stands out.”

“If that person’s Nadia, it’s different.”

“Martin’s contributions have always been big.”

“There’s talk of war, isn’t there?”

Even though he’d said it himself, Martin seemed uneasy, tapping his uncomfortable leg. Felicia hesitated, then only nodded in reply. She didn’t want to force someone who’d just returned from war to recall that hell. After Felicia nodded, Martin’s office fell silent for a moment. Outside, the window grew noisy as people began their morning. The office, once filled only with blue, now began to mix in some orange.

“They say Akuris has committed treason.”

“…….”

“Few will believe it. If it were one of the Dukedoms, maybe.”

“Storia will be safe.”

“Is that all?”

“…….”

“Such a rumor isn’t enough to tarnish its reputation, right?”

“But if you’re implicated, it’ll be trouble.”

Maybe it was lucky. Except for Dejaire, everyone thought Felicia was leaving Storia because of the coming war. She could leave now, but Felicia didn’t want to. Since she’d decided to leave, she needed to do it right to stop Yuan. If someone had to die, she hoped it would be Nadia, not Yuan.

“I have a favor, Martin.”

“How about a deal—if I do, you don’t leave?”

“If anyone asks, will you say she’s dead?”

“Who’s asking about whom?”

“Anyone asking about Nadia.”

“…….”

“She shouldn’t exist in this world. Not her name, not her presence.”

“So it wasn’t just the rumor.”

Martin drained his glass and set it on the table with a thump. Felicia didn’t blink at his abrupt gesture. If he refused, she’d have to think of a better plan. If the rumor of Nadia’s death didn’t spread, or if someone from Storia told Yuan she was Nadia, the only way to stop Yuan…

“My Lady.”

“…You’ll keep my secret, right?”

“…….”

“I must be someone unrelated to Storia.”

“…….”

“Martin. Please.”

It was a face he’d never seen before. Martin remembered the edge of the harbor tavern where he’d begun to get to know Felicia. It hadn’t taken long to learn the bold rich girl was Akuris’s youngest daughter. The family name was one thing, but she’d always been persistent, even when rejected and mocked by the Prince she loved. She was known for her passionate, naive love, but despite the rumors and the treatment she received, Felicia always smiled brightly—never once had she worn such a desperate expression. So Martin couldn’t ask her anything now.

“Don’t worry.”

With just those words, Felicia let out the breath she’d been holding, as if she’d finally found a way out. Martin, for the first time, felt pity for his bold Nadia and couldn’t offer any comfort.

“But I can’t spread the rumor that you’re dead.”

“Martin.”

“You need a place to come back to.”

“…….”

“I’ll make sure you’re not implicated, so don’t worry.”

“I won’t come back.”

“Yes.”

At Martin’s calm words, Felicia bit her lip, suppressing a surge of emotion. Even though he knew nothing, Martin always acted as if he knew everything. Felicia had always found great comfort in that, but today she couldn’t. Today, there was only a heavy sense of guilt.

“But if you ever want to come back, do.”

“…….”

“You’ve made yourself so big you can’t hide or run away anywhere.”

In the end, Dejaire was never seen again. Felicia looked for a long time at Martin, who, despite his uncomfortable leg, personally saw her off in place of the Storia family, still in the middle of the night. She was leaving everything behind without a clear reason, but Martin generously accepted her final farewell.

Pretending nothing was wrong, Felicia exchanged a normal goodbye with Martin and left Storia. The shopping street was already bustling with people greeting the bright morning. It was a day like any other, a familiar scene, but everything felt distant, as if she were reading an old, faded story, and Felicia couldn’t take another step.

“Felicia.”

“…….”

“I was standing here a while, but you didn’t notice.”

“…….”

“Were you pretending not to?”

“…His Highness the Prince—”

“Get in. I’ll take you wherever you wish.”

Apparently, he’d been standing there for a while, and Marhel’s attendant’s face was slightly flushed. Felicia quietly looked at the blue eyes waiting for her in the carriage, then took the attendant’s hand and got in. Marhel looked at Felicia with surprise, as if he’d expected her to refuse, but Felicia, having guessed his thoughts, didn’t bother to explain or thank him.

“You insisted on marrying me.”

“…….”

“In the end, we became family, Felicia.”

“…….”

“You didn’t have to rush the ceremony like that.”

Even without a response or a glance, Marhel spoke to Felicia as if it was familiar. The carriage was so wide that even their clothes didn’t brush, and Marhel couldn’t help a hint of sarcasm in his words. Still, since they’d met by chance, he couldn’t help but speak, needing to satisfy his own desire.

“The Crown Prince had the ceremony because he planned to go to Midonia.”

“…….”

“I’m the one going there.”

“…….”

“You finally look at me.”

He’d been dissatisfied with her lack of smiles for a while, but now even her gloomy, surprised face was welcome. Marhel thought his own heart was hopelessly clueless as he smiled languidly. To meet by chance right after receiving orders to go to a place he might die, and to think he’d ruined this fated relationship with his own hands—his heart flipped, but he couldn’t help but smile, even if only to laugh at himself.