Chapter 2.3

‘How did this happen…’

Herace looked down at Brienne’s small head in his arms. Unable to break her stubbornness, he ended up taking her along, but he had a feeling that once they returned, Shylo would stab him to death.

<If you’re really going to go, let’s hurry! If Shylo finds out, he’ll never let us leave!>

Her urgent voice left him no time to hesitate, and they had already traveled some distance, ignoring Shylo, who had sensed something was off and came running.

He couldn’t tell if he had kidnapped Brienne or if she had kidnapped him.

“Young Master Shylo will probably think I’m a kidnapper.”

As he spoke first, Brienne, who had been pursing her lips, glanced back at him.

“…Is that so bad?”

“It’s not good. Especially after being rejected by you, Miss Ford.”

For a moment, Herace studied Brienne’s face. He thought she would still be angry, but looking again, she seemed more tense than upset.

Both of them were nervous atop the horse, but he realized their feelings were fundamentally different. Herace moved a little away from Brienne’s back to shake off his own mood.

“When we return, I’m not sure Young Master Shylo won’t kill me.”

“Don’t worry. I haven’t told Shylo anything yet. Besides… I never thought what you said to me was a confession.”

Brienne muttered softly, turning her gaze forward again. Herace noticed her shoulders trembling slightly.

“…Were you very shocked?”

Thinking about it, it made sense. As they passed the flooded village, Brienne couldn’t take her eyes off it. What was she thinking as she watched?

Hearing about a disaster and seeing it with your own eyes are worlds apart. He had brought Brienne along just because he didn’t want her to resent him. In hindsight, it felt like a selfish choice.

“To be honest, I was… a little shocked. That village was the closest to the manor, so I often visited. The roofs were beautiful.”

“…….”

“But now, it’s not a village anymore.”

Brienne murmured bitterly. Herace’s grip on the reins tightened.

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault you were frightened, Miss Ford.”

“…What? Don’t say such nonsense. How could the rain be your fault, Young Master?”

Brienne gave a small laugh, as if it was absurd. She fidgeted with the jacket wrapped around her head, speaking firmly.

“And I should be the one to apologize. I misunderstood you, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just… everything.”

Brienne shrugged. An awkward silence fell for a moment, but this man no longer felt as uncomfortable as before.

When she first heard from the servant that he had left, she thought he was just meddling and making people uncomfortable. She had always found his lightheartedness suspicious, too.

But now, Brienne was grateful for that lightness. If even Herace had been as gloomy as her, it would have felt like attending a funeral.

Brienne glanced back slightly.

“…Do you think my father will be all right?”

Her cautious voice was swallowed by the sound of rain. Herace answered without hesitation.

“Nothing will happen to him.”

“Really?”

“Yes, it has to be that way.”

Meeting Brienne’s pale green eyes, Herace smiled as if to reassure her. Even if his words turned out to be a lie, he didn’t want to be honest right now.

Saying “I don’t know,” or “But I think he’ll be fine,” wouldn’t be enough to calm her anxiety.

“Thank you.”

At those words, Brienne smiled faintly. He wanted to tell her to face forward since it was dangerous to look away on a moving horse, but Herace couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Young Master, you really are a kind person.”

“…….”

“Ah, we just have to go down this hill! Since he would have gone through the lowlands first, this is the only place left except for that village.”

Even that faint smile made it hard to breathe. The scent and warmth of her, which he had tried not to notice, crashed over him like a wave.

Without warning, one side of his heart clenched tightly.

* * *

“Hey, wake up.”

Tap, tap, tap—through tightly closed eyelids, a dim light seeped in. As a hand slapped his cheek relentlessly, Damon Ford blinked several times.

He definitely remembered being swept away by the current the moment he caught the falling child, but now his body was lying on uneven ground. Through the still-pouring rain, a man’s voice could be heard.

“Oh, hey! Are you awake? You were way too reckless. You almost died, you know that?”

“Ah, the child… Ugh!”

Trying to sit up quickly, Damon was hit by a pain so harsh it felt like his sternum had snapped, and he could barely breathe. As Damon’s body slumped again, the man crouched beside him and firmly supported his back.

“Whoa, whoa, easy! There’s still a long way to go.”

“T-thank you… The child, is the child safe?”

Clutching the man’s strong arm, Marquis Ford grimaced. The man jerked his chin toward the back, and only then did Damon see a group of people huddled together.

Including the child he had caught, there were at least ten people.

“Mister!”

The child, noticing Damon had awakened, ran over with wide eyes. Tears dripped from those big, round eyes.

“Mister… Thank you so much for saving me.”

“What are you talking about? I’m the one who saved you, kid.”

Before Damon could speak, the man laughed mischievously and flicked the child’s forehead. The child pouted, clutching her forehead.

“I already thanked you earlier, Mister…!”

At that, the man’s mouth dropped open in shock, and he stroked his chin in disbelief. Then, pointing at Damon, he muttered,

“Mister…? Me? You see both me and this guy as just ‘mister’?”

“Yes!”

The child nodded and dashed away into the group. Damon couldn’t help but study the man’s face.

‘He looks about Shylo’s age… He must look scary to a child.’

Curly black hair, thick eyebrows, dark skin. Slightly upturned eyes and a strong, bold impression. Broad shoulders, tall—everything about him was just big.

As the man kept muttering, “She called me mister…,” Damon asked, bewildered,

“Did you save me? What exactly happened?”

“…Hm? Ah, it was just luck. You were swept down to the bottom of this hill! That little kid was lucky enough to be rescued, but you… were too heavy to pull out.”

Damon thought the man’s expression seemed to sour at the word ‘Mister’, but he waited silently for him to continue.

“Because to that, I swam in and pulled you out. You weren’t breathing, probably swallowed too much water, so I did the ‘direct’ thing, you know, that too.”

The man brought two fingers to his lips and winked. Damon shuddered with goosebumps at the same time.

Seeing that reaction, the man’s face twisted in annoyance.

“What, you think I liked it? Who would want to kiss an old man?”

“N-no, it’s a misunderstanding… I’m sorry.”

“Geez, whatever! If you’re shocked by a joke like that, you must be fine now. So, shall we talk? Judging by your clothes, you don’t look like a commoner. Are you a noble?”

The man sprang up and wrung the water from his clothes. The splattering drops hit Damon’s face, but the man didn’t seem to care at all.

“I’d prefer it if you were a noble. We’re looking for a shelter right now.”

Shelter.

Damon, staring blankly at the man, wiped the water from his face and looked around.

“Do you know exactly where we are?”

“Well, I’m a stranger here, so I’m not sure… Hey, Lusell!”

The man called out loudly to someone. A gray-haired man, who had been standing back, immediately approached.

“You called?”

“This ‘mister’ is asking where we are.”

“Hmm, according to the map… it should be a hill near Luman Square.”

The gray-haired man, Lusell, pulled out a parchment from his pocket and wiped it off. The man glanced at it and snorted, shaking his head.

“Ugh, you’re something. You’re probably the only person in the world who can read a map with all the ink smeared.”

“I’ve memorized most of it.”

Luman Square…

Damon, listening to their conversation, muttered quietly, and the man’s gaze shot to him at once. Damon reached his hand out to the man first.

“It’s fortunate the person you’re looking for is a noble. I’m Damon Ford.”

“…Ford? Are you the Lord here?”

At that, the man’s brown eyes flashed dangerously for a moment. Then a cheerful smile appeared on the previously blunt face.

“Wow! I never thought I’d end up saving the Lord. What an honor. Ah, I’m, let’s see… Zen. Just call me that.”

He’d thought it was natural how casually the man spoke, but even after revealing he was the Lord, the man’s attitude didn’t change at all. Damon didn’t feel the need to force formalities on the one who had saved his life.

“Well then, Mister Lord. How about showing us the way?”

The man reached out his veined hand and pulled Damon’s hand up. Even in the rain, his voice was booming.