She staggered away, shaking her head at Atlion, who seemed intent on following her, and left them behind. She wandered, looking for a quiet spot away from the tents. The low, rolling hills offered no dense trees for cover.

Holding the still whimpering Mirabella close, Swan searched for an empty tent. The child would surely have starved if she hadn’t been fed. Even if the maid who was looking after Mirabella had experience with children, she didn’t seem to have any experience with childbirth. Of course, the child must have been left unfed.

Swan sat down in an empty tent and loosened the front of her dress. Mirabella, her eyes glistening with tears, clung to her mother’s br*ast and began to suckle. Swan gave the child a small smile as she gently massaged her sore calves.

“It’s OK. Mummy will always be here for you. Mummy will never leave you…”

She gently stroked the bright golden hair on the baby’s head, light as golden barley. Mirabella was clearly her daughter, unmistakably like her mother. Perhaps that was why. Maybe that was why Atlion found it so hard to love her.

Swan looked at her child and thought deeply. A life with just the two of them. She had spent three days running, terrified of such a life. But now… she wasn’t sure anymore.

Even when the three of them were together, it always felt like just the two of them. Even when she had carried this child in her womb, she had felt endlessly lonely, as if there was no man at her side. The baby reached out a tiny hand to her dry, desolate eyes, as if to wipe away invisible tears. The gesture was so endearing – nursing while stretching out those tiny fingers.

Swan smiled faintly and took the little hand.

“Over here…”

A murmur came from outside the tent. Startled, Swan hurried to adjust her bodice, but before she could, the tent flap was pushed aside.

“Oh…”

Why? Is someone here? A grumbling voice mixed with a moan carried a tone of irritation. Swan, who had removed the nursing baby from her br*ast, straightened her clothes and rose to her feet. The man who had opened the tent blushed. Swan, who had calmed her fussy, hungry daughter, prepared to leave.

“Um, it looks like we came to the wrong place…”

“What? No, this is the right place. It’s our tent.”

One man, drenched in cold sweat, moaned and shouted as he leaned heavily on his comrades for support. These soldiers were far from unscathed. Suddenly, Swan remembered something the knights had muttered earlier.

Was it Amiens? The Marquis’s forces were said to have joined the Crown Prince on his return to Solam, having fought a localised battle in the north-west to crush the remnants of Lamallac once and for all.

No wonder the infantry armour looked different. These were men fresh from battle. Swan bowed slightly and stepped out of the tent. The hard stares of the soldiers who glanced at her as she passed made her uneasy.

“I’m sorry.”

She had used the empty tent without permission, assuming it was unoccupied. Her face burned with shame. Swan hurriedly carried her baby and left. A scruffy-looking soldier approached her. It was Theo, who had led the injured infantrymen to their tents.

“Excuse me.”

“Yes?”

Swan replied, startled.

“You seem to be looking for a place to nurse your baby.”

Swan, who had been looking down, looked up at the man. He looked a little shy, scratching his head as if embarrassed to speak to a stranger, his expression full of apology. Swan stared at him steadily. There was a youthfulness to his stammering words and fumbling manner.

“I’m so sorry. Our group…”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

Swan replied, shaking her head. She took a step back to avoid the man as he cautiously approached. Noticing this, he stopped in his tracks and swallowed hard before speaking again.

“Well… I know a quiet place. It’s not far from here.”

He lowered the hand that had been scratching his head and looked at Swan. She nodded as she soothed the always fussy Mirabella, her cries leaving little room for hesitation.

Following behind the man, her trust uncertain, she arrived at a small tent used to store medical supplies. Hastily erected, the tent was crammed with leftover medicines, new ointments and neatly wrapped bandages, all haphazardly mixed together. It baffled her why such things were left here, or how the management could be so careless. Still, it was quiet.

“It’s a bit messy, isn’t it?”

“……”

“To be honest, the senior officers and knights don’t really use the supplies here. This is where we soldiers hide things to share amongst ourselves.”

The man whispered quickly. Swan nodded slightly, her face calm. The pungent smell of mould mixed with medicinal herbs was unpleasant. When she instinctively wrinkled her nose, the man blushed again. He was a shy young man.

He was different from the other men she had seen following the soldiers. Swan studied him quietly. His blonde hair wasn’t light, and it was slicked back carelessly, with untidy bangs that looked as if they might pierce his eyes. Despite his large frame, his features were delicate and innocent.

“Here, please sit here.”

He bent down and piled some scattered wooden planks together to form a crude seat. It didn’t look very comfortable, but Swan wasn’t about to refuse his kindness. Apart from Tom, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d received such consideration, not even from the villagers.

Especially among the soldiers and knights… none of them had a kind look for her. Male or female, their gaze was the same – hard and cold. Why were they no different from the villagers who had once spat at her and called her a witch? Was there something in their blood that marked them that way?

She thought bitterly that no one could ever truly love her. No one. Not even Mirabella’s father.

“Do you… do you not like it here? Is it perhaps not a good environment for the baby?” 

The man, noticing Swan’s suddenly sombre expression, began to stammer nervously. Swan shook her head quickly. At that moment, Mirabella began to fuss again. Seeing a single tear well up in her baby’s eye, Swan realised that she must really be hungry. 

“Oh, I’m so, so sorry. Maybe I scared the baby. I’ll go out now.” 

“Thank you.” 

“No problem. If you need anything else, just call me. And you – make sure you have a good dinner, little one.” 

Before leaving the tent, the man waved to the baby, then walked out. Swan listened to the sound of his footsteps fade into the distance before settling down on the makeshift seat he had prepared. She loosened the front of her bodice again and began to nurse Mirabella. 

The baby, who had been sniffling a moment earlier, stopped crying as soon as she latched onto the br*ast. Her plump little lips suckled with adorable determination. Though so beautiful, Swan knew that Mirabella’s beauty was something only Swan herself could appreciate.

“That stinking brat.”

The words echoed in her mind, causing a twitch beneath her eyes. 

From her bruised toes, once stripped of their nails, to the arms that held her child, her entire body felt cold. It was strange, as if a sudden chill had hit her. Her vision swam and she blinked to steady it. Just then, the tent door was pushed open again, casting a shadow over her. 

Swan slowly lifted her eyes to the figure. Her raised chin felt heavy. The man, holding the tent door open with one hand to let in the light, took measured steps towards her. Swan dropped her eyes to the ground, sweat beading her brow. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Mirabella, her blue eyes wide as she sucked noisily, looked at her father. Reading his daughter’s moist gaze, Atlion turned to his wife. 

“I asked what you were doing here.” 

Swan didn’t answer. She just stared at him with a calm, unreadable expression. What she was doing should have been obvious. She had even said earlier that she was going to calm the baby. There was nothing more to say. But the silence seemed to irritate him. 

“Why are you here?” 

“There was nowhere else to nurse her.” 

“In my tent?” 

“…….” 

“The place where I laid you.”

His words carried an accusatory tone, as if questioning her actions. Perhaps it wasn’t just her being here, but the fact that he had driven her to such a place that felt like a crime. But Swan couldn’t bring herself to speak. All she could do was look at him with a pale, helpless expression.

“Swan.”

“…….”

“Stand up.”

It was a curt command. Instead of getting up, she looked at her daughter. She didn’t want to take Mirabella from her br*ast before the baby had finished feeding. Swan glanced sideways at the man standing before her and murmured softly.

“Please go on, I’ll take the baby out later.”

She fell silent. When even her soft murmur faded into the air, there was only silence. Instead of saying more, Swan just looked at him quietly. The man who had regained his memory was no different than before. Swan was still just Swan. And the daughter she bore was simply Swan’s daughter – nothing more. 

So he would leave the tent and return to his place. That was what Swan wanted. She no longer longed for his love, nor was she hurt by his indifferent gaze. Instead, her heart seemed to break into tiny, imperceptible pieces, sinking deeper like grains of sand.

As Swan remained silent, so did he. Without a word, the man grabbed her shoulder and pulled her up from the filthy wooden floor. Then, without hesitation, he forcibly removed the baby from her chest. Mirabella, who had been breastfeeding, was suddenly taken from her mother and placed in her father’s arms.

Startled, the baby gave a little cough. Gently, he supported her neck and patted her back. 

Swan reached out to take her daughter back, but instead of pushing her away, he avoided her grasp and covered her exposed br*ast with his hand. The cool surface of his gauntlet pressed against her soft skin