Even without Achilleon, she would have managed somehow, but she couldn’t guarantee that Roye would have been safe. The thought of something happening to her child made her chest feel heavy, like tears might come.

Hari quickly turned toward the kitchen to hide her stinging eyes.

When she came out with tea, Achilleon was looking around Hari’s small house. The wall decorations she had knitted herself, the old round table and floor rugs she had received from the villagers.

The wooden toys lined up neatly on the dresser. Achilleon picked up one shaped like a pony.

“Did you make this yourself?”

“Yes.”

Does he think it’s shabby?

She thought calmly and sat across from him. Before, she hadn’t wanted to show Achilleon her humble appearance, but not now. Hari was very fond of the precious space she had created with her daughter.

“It seems like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You handle a sword skillfully. I imagined you carving wood with a blade. I meant it’s well made.”

“Drink your tea quickly before it gets cold.”

“It smells good.”

“The priest gave it to me as a gift.”

“I’m relieved to see you living happily.”

“Did you want me to live unhappily?”

“Of course not.”

Achilleon smiled bitterly. He set down his teacup and looked quietly at Hari with an expression that showed he didn’t know what to say first.

“Isn’t three years enough?”

“What…”

“You still hate me.”

She was speechless. You call that a question? I hate you. But the words she expected to come out without hesitation seemed stuck in her throat and wouldn’t emerge.

“I know that I caused you pain, and I know that apologizing now is meaningless.”

At first, she didn’t understand what he was saying. He was the king of Hitais. But an apology? To her?

She had heard the strange talk about him no longer being king, but Hari naturally didn’t believe it. She considered it some inexplicable whim, and whatever his intentions, she just wanted it to end quickly.

She didn’t want to be shaken, so she wanted him to leave soon. Hari barely managed to squeeze out the voice she had been suppressing.

“I still hate you.”

“Hate me. To your heart’s content, curse and revile me until your anger is satisfied.”

“……”

“But it can’t be helped. No matter how much you despise me, I love you.”

For a moment, she doubted her ears. Unable to believe the desperate voice that had been drawn into her ears, Hari gripped her teacup with trembling hands. Her mind became tangled like porridge at the words she thought could never come from that man’s mouth.

When she lifted her gaze that had been fixed on the table, she saw Achilleon’s face contorted in pain.

“I want you to be happy.”

He realized too late that Margharita’s happiness was his own happiness. For that, Achilleon had given up everything. The throne, his people, power. By now the palace would be in chaos. The wedding ceremony would have been ruined.

He had finished all the procedures for abdicating the throne to Trinita after consulting with Rainan. It was the day Rainan had made his first rude remark to him.

‘Your Majesty, have you finally gone mad? Abdication! Haven’t you worked tirelessly for this position all along? But now you want to pass the throne to a collateral member? What were all our efforts and sacrifices until now!’

Rainan, who had been furious, couldn’t hide his dejected expression even after calming down.

‘Do you think this situation makes sense? Someone who has a wedding in two days…! Then who should I serve now? What will Your Majesty do?’

‘I’ll live as a nobleman.’

‘Surely not…’

What other reason could there be?

‘If you put your mind to it, you could keep Lady Hari as a mistress anytime.’

Rainan’s persuasion to reconsider didn’t work. Achilleon didn’t want that. Hari was the only one for him, and he was the only one for Hari. They needed to become a relationship where no one else could come between them.

Achilleon had thought that becoming king would allow him to have anything he wanted. The love he had vaguely craved, the solid and special relationship where they were everything to each other. He had become the best he had always desired since ancient times, so he thought he could obtain everything.

But it was the opposite. He couldn’t have anything he actually wanted. No Hari, no love. So Achilleon passed the throne to Trinita, who had buried his ambitions. If he couldn’t have what he wanted even as king, what reason was there to continue in this position?

From the beginning, there was only one thing he wanted.

Everyone would think Achilleon had gone mad. What was Margharita to his life that he would turn everything he had achieved into a sandcastle?

In fact, Achilleon didn’t know either. He had simply followed the person he loved and done what his heart desired. He had no regrets.

“Even if Roye is another man’s child, it doesn’t matter. Since she’s a child you love, I could love her too.”

Hari’s expression, which had been moving her lips, stiffened strangely. She stared at Achilleon with eyes full of tension, like she was enduring something. Those eyes slowly filled with color and thick tears welled up.

Achilleon couldn’t understand why Hari was crying. Neither could Hari. When he wiped away her tears, she felt inexplicably sorrowful and thicker tears poured out. Everything from leaving Lagonia until now felt unreal, like a passage from a dream.

Hari buried her face in both hands. Her drooped shoulders trembled finely.

* * *

[What do you want to do?]

“I don’t know.”

Hari stopped walking halfway up the hill. The closer she got to home, the heavier her heart felt. It wasn’t that the deep resentment from before remained.

Living apart from Achilleon, Hari had found her own life, and the events in Hitais felt like nightmares from the distant past. Even so, she didn’t want to accept Achilleon. She didn’t want to accept him easily. Not yet.

She was satisfied with her current peaceful and comfortable life. But now Achilleon was trying to stir up her life again. This time in a different way.

“That person is being capricious. Someone who lived luxuriously in the palace couldn’t endure this kind of life. He’s not particularly patient either, so he’ll get tired and go back on his own.”

[I’m not asking about him, but about your heart.]

Her head became complicated. Hari changed the subject.

“How’s your body?”

[The priest says I need to receive treatment consistently for another two years. The inside of my tongue feels a bit itchy too.]

“Let me see.”

When she examined the inside of Ipea’s mouth, she could see new flesh growing on the cut tongue root.

[Thanks to the excellent healing priest. I’ll diligently visit Kahilans for a while.]

“When are you leaving?”

[I have to move tonight. I’ve stayed here too long.]

A week ago, Geta had returned to Lagonia. And now even Ipea had to join the trading company. It was disappointing, but they weren’t residents of Kahilans, so they couldn’t stay here long. They each had their own work too.

Hari fidgeted with the pass in her skirt pocket. Right now she was just a foreign resident; Hari hadn’t been fully recognized as a resident either. She had extended it for another year, but she couldn’t stay in Kahilans forever.

[Are you sad that I’m leaving?]

“Of course I’m sad.”

[I’m sad I won’t see Roye too. By the way, is Roye at home? Did the priest take care of her?]

Hari smiled ambiguously. Whenever she came out to the village on errands, she always brought Roye, so she seemed puzzled not to see her. She gave a vague answer and parted with Ipea at the crossroads. She said she had documents to send to the trading company.

‘Is it going to rain? There was no such forecast.’

The weather that had been clear until morning had become overcast. Spotting the dark clouds rolling toward the village over the mountain ridge, Hari hurried her steps.

Fortunately, it didn’t rain until she reached home. However, Hari couldn’t readily open the door and glanced sideways at the window. Faint sounds were coming from inside. From the kitchen area.

“No, Igo.”

“What’s no?”

“Not Igo! Geta auntie pie, not Igo.”

Achilleon holding a large pan awkwardly and Roye wearing a small apron were in a standoff.

‘What are those two doing again?’

Achilleon had visited Hari’s house every day since that day. And he proposed every single day. Each time she drew the line, but sometimes there were days when she needed that man. When she had to go out on business but had no one to watch Roye. Today was one of those days.

“Roye. What’s the problem?”

Roye, sitting sullenly on the counter, glared at the freshly baked pie with a gloomy expression.

“Not Igo…”

“Geta? You mean the woman who was next to Margharita?”

“Mm-hm.”

“This is a royal pumpkin pie that tastes ten times better than the pie that woman made, Roye. Don’t frown and eat it.”

“No! Salty. Salty pie!”

When Achilleon frowned, Roye completely flopped onto the counter and started crying while kneading the remaining lump of dough. Achilleon’s brow twitched. She was crying so pitifully. 

Finally, he put away the pumpkin pie and picked up the dough again.

How interesting. She wasn’t a child who threw tantrums with just anyone. Roye, who was mature beyond her three years, acted surprisingly spoiled in front of Achilleon. Roye stopped crying and began playing with the dough together, scattering white flour everywhere.

Unable to overlook the increasingly serious kitchen situation, Hari burst through the door.