Noticing Theo’s discomfort, the woman looked down at the campfire before slowly lifting her eyes again. Her green eyes, framed by her reddened lids, rested on his face for a long moment. The intensity of her focused gaze made Theo’s smile falter.

“And… what’s your name, miss?”

Escape from her companion hadn’t been difficult. In fact, he almost seemed to be helping her leave. When she asked how to excuse herself for a bathroom break, he pointed to a distant clump of trees without a hint of suspicion.

Even when Swan distanced herself from him, using discomfort as an excuse to put space between them, he readily agreed. It could have been simple courtesy, but it felt deliberate – almost as if he knew she intended to run. Perhaps he even encouraged it.

Anyone observant enough wouldn’t have missed the subtle emotion flickering across his face. And thus, Swan escaped.

She couldn’t remember where or how she had started running. All she remembered was fleeing into the woods to avoid being followed. But as time passed, no one seemed to be following her. The realisation left her feeling empty, as if her efforts to hide in the forest had been in vain.

The path, though easy in places, was steep in others, and the sun was setting fast, bringing with it a sharp drop in temperature. At some point, tears began to fall. It wasn’t because she was lost, nor because of the pain in her feet. It was the overwhelming feeling that, despite her escape, she had been abandoned.

The thought of being pursued would have terrified her, but the lack of pursuit only confirmed that she had been let go. Even though she had fled alone, the knowledge stung. Perhaps he had anticipated her departure all along.

That might explain why he had assigned someone like him to escort her. If that was the case, wouldn’t he have been irritated that she hadn’t left sooner? He had gone out of his way to make her escape easy, and yet she had hesitated until now.

And so the tears continued. It was hard to come to terms with the fact that she had truly been abandoned. Even though she had always known this moment would come, it didn’t make it hurt any less. She wandered through the forest, pushing forward until nightfall.

Though she thought she was used to walking, the pain in her feet and body proved otherwise. She felt lost, unable to change her situation. As the night deepened, the cries of wild animals echoed through the forest.

Swan shivered uncontrollably at the thought of being abandoned. The more she thought about it, the more she felt it would be easier to wander aimlessly through the forest until she starved to death. But then she remembered the child in her arms. Without the baby, she might have given up and resigned herself to becoming prey.

“My name is Swan. Swan Ropennin.”

“Swan… Swan…”

The man repeated her name softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“It’s a beautiful name.”

The red glow of the campfire danced in his amber eyes. Her heart, which had felt frozen and numb, slowly began to thaw. Theodor… Theodor Dianton…  It was such an ordinary name, but it seemed significant to her – perhaps because she had called someone “Theo” in the past, but had never really used it with affection.

“Why were you so startled?”

“Oh, it’s just… it’s the same name as someone I know.”

“Haha, Theodor is a pretty common name.”

Theo laughed it off, pretending it was nothing, but he must have known it wasn’t a proper answer to her question. His laughter eventually died away.

Swan stared silently at the campfire. Mirabella, snuggled up in her blanket, sneezed. Swan pulled her closer and wiped her nose. Mirabella furrowed her delicate brows and began to fuss.

Flustered, Swan tried to pat her on the back to calm her down, but once Mirabella was in a bad mood, it wasn’t easy to calm her down. That was when Theo spoke.

“If it’s alright, may I try to comfort her?”

He asked with a warm smile. Swan hesitated for a moment before handing over her daughter. Theo took Mirabella in his arms, stood up and rocked her gently from side to side, humming a lullaby. It was a method Swan often used in the cabin – sometimes it worked perfectly, sometimes not at all.

Swan watched Theo in amazement. She had never seen a young man – not an experienced grandfather, but someone of his age – handle an infant so naturally. Could it be that he had a daughter of Mirabella’s age back home? Was that why he seemed so at ease with her?

“She’s asleep now.”

Theo, who had been softly humming a lullaby and exchanging glances with the baby, spoke as if he did not want the moment to end. Swan reached out to take Mirabella, but instead of returning her, Theo sat down and carefully adjusted the baby’s nappy to keep her from waking. His actions were smooth and natural, without a hint of awkwardness.

Swan’s mind wandered to the man who had fathered her child. He had looked at his own daughter as if she didn’t really exist, as if she was completely separate from him. While he was the one responsible for Mirabella’s existence, he seemed incapable of taking on the role of her father.

It had been this way even before she knew of his status. She had no expectations of him – not when she was carrying the child in her womb, nor when Mirabella, freshly born and breathing softly, lay with the umbilical cord just cut.

Whenever there was a glimmer of hope, she forced herself to suppress it, to tell herself it was a meaningless wish. She had hardened her heart so much that when she followed him to the barracks, he appeared to her not as a husband or a father, but simply as a man.

“She’s your daughter, isn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“She looks like you.”

Theo lifted his gaze from Mirabella’s closed eyelids, his expression warm as if looking at his own child. Swan suddenly felt a sting on the bridge of her nose and heat rising to her eyes. Biting her lip tightly, she watched the man and her daughter in silence. Theo, seemingly lost in thought, gazed at Mirabella’s long eyelashes.

“Especially her eyelashes. They’re just like yours, Swan. They’re so-oh?”

Tears filled Swan’s eyes. She bit down on the inside of her lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape. She lowered her head and let her hair fall forward, hoping to hide her tears, but Theo’s words trailed off when he noticed.

The tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Swan trembled as she struggled to hold back her sobs. Crying in front of a stranger felt humiliating and she was too exhausted to cry any more. But the tears wouldn’t stop.

Her mind was consumed by memories of all the things she had ruined – the mistakes she had made with her own hands. Lying, clinging and expecting too much. It was only natural that she hadn’t been loved, only natural that she had become a burden. But through it all, she couldn’t stop hoping.

She wanted Mirabella to have a good father. Above all, she didn’t want her daughter – her beloved Mirabella – to grow up to be called illegitimate.

How wonderful it must be to have a father. If you had a mother, of course you had a father. Everyone in the world was born with both, whether they got along or not. But the thought that Mirabella wouldn’t have that made Swan cry again and again.

That was why she had wanted to get married – not for Mirabella’s sake, but because it had long been her dream. A ‘father’ was something she had never known in her life. For so long, for half her life, she had wanted one. At the very least, she wanted her daughter to have a reliable father. She had been determined to give Mirabella a loving, harmonious family. But in the end…

“Swan.”

In the end, it hadn’t happened. Like her mother, like her grandmother before her, she had failed. Mirabella would probably face the same fate, lonely and isolated. And once Swan was gone, that loneliness would only deepen. The thought of leaving Mirabella alone in the world overwhelmed her, and another wave of sobs escaped her.

“Swan, it’s all right.”

Theo, who had silently moved closer to the campfire, placed a gentle hand on her trembling shoulders as she cried into her hands.

“Shh… It’s really all right. Whatever it is, whatever it is… it will be all right.”

She turned her head away and lowered her hands from her face. The man still holding her shoulders had a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Swan blinked in surprise.

’How could he say everything was fine? He doesn’t even know what’s wrong.’

Nothing seemed fine – absolutely nothing. And yet her heart felt warm, as if wrapped in a thick, comforting blanket.

“May I ask about the child’s father?”

“There isn’t one.”

“So it wasn’t one of the soldiers? I thought it might have been…”

Her tear streaked eyes blinked slowly. Instead of answering, she looked up at the black expanse of the night sky. Countless stars sparkled like grains of white salt scattered across a dark canvas. She glanced at the hand on her shoulder, her expression calm, and whispered softly.

“Mirabella has no father. She’s my child – mine alone.”

By dawn, Theo and Swan had left the forest and boarded a ferry to cross the river. By the time they reached the dock, their hands were clasped, and Mirabella remained fast asleep in Theo’s arms.

About a dozen passengers joined them on the ferry that early morning. Swan rested her head on Theo’s shoulder, holding her daughter close. She fell asleep almost immediately, and when she awoke, they had already reached the lower part of the river. Once again their hands were intertwined, holding each other tightly.

***

A severed head was always a disturbing sight. To see it mounted on a long pole, where it should have been attached to a body, was enough to turn your stomach and knot your insides. The blood, now dark and dried in the sun, clung to the wood like a grim stain. Hollow eye sockets and partially open lips added to the grotesque appearance.

Renee recognised the man. He had been one of the Crown Prince’s personal guards, assigned to escort the woman the Prince had once called his wife. His name… was it Ladan?