From the start, Akan hadn’t expected her to lead a normal life. He knew better than anyone that such expectations were too much to ask. Even if she had lost her mind, as long as she had found some kind of happiness in that state, he would have considered it a blessing.

After a moment’s hesitation, Lia finally asked her question.

“Sir, are you my father?”

“Probably.”

Akan avoided a definitive answer. Even if the title didn’t feel right, there was no doubt that Liatris was his blood.

Akan looked into Lia’s violet eyes with a new sense of realisation. She hadn’t been pregnant until the moment Robellia had jumped out of the window, and the only night they had spent together had been their last. Had it not been for the child, Robellia might have broken free of Akan, body and soul.

How could Robellia tell her daughter she loved her? Akan wondered if the stories Robellia had told Lia hadn’t been made up on purpose. Perhaps she had distorted her own memories. Maybe she had to, or she wouldn’t have been able to go on living.

Despite Akan’s half-hearted answer, a bright smile spread across Lia’s face.

“See? I told you my mom wasn’t stupid.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Auntie said… Lia’s father is dead. But mom always said no.”

Akan Roxas was dead. The whole world believed it, even Akan himself. The only one who knew the truth was Duke Mos, the man who had wielded the sword against him. That was why Mrs Reinin believed that Lia was the last bloodline of the Roxas family and had raised her under that assumption.

For some inexplicable reason, Robellia was the only one who continued to deny Akan’s death. It was unclear if she truly hoped he was still alive, or if her conscience, burdened by the weight of her unresolved guilt, was causing her such torment.

Although Robellia had said she would forgive Akan, the reality was that no one had ever forgiven her for the sins she had committed in her ignorance. Could it be that she was still living under the crushing weight of her guilt? If only Robellia had been a little more selfish, or even a little more evil, things might have turned out differently. In the end, now that it was all over, that was what Akan regretted most.

Lia hesitated, glancing carefully at him before speaking again, her voice tentative.

“Then… Mom wasn’t lying, was she? I mean, about the princess part, sure, that’s probably a lie… but still.”

Akan had intended to gently crush some of the girl’s fantasies. Still, he hesitated to answer.

“Well…”

Unfortunately, the story Lia had asked for was nothing but a series of endless lies. A loving father who adored his youngest daughter. A protective brother who cherished his sister. A kind and devoted fiancé. Like reflections in a mirror, everything was the exact opposite of reality.

Akan couldn’t bring himself to break the mirror. If Robellia truly believed in such fantasies, and had found some semblance of peace in them, perhaps it was better to let her continue to believe.

Growing anxious, Lia pressed him again for an answer.

“If you come with me, Mom will be very happy.”

Whether it was a good idea to bring home the man who might be her father, the young girl couldn’t say for sure. Her mother always seemed happy, lying with her head on Lia’s lap and telling her love stories. But sometimes her mother acted strangely, repeating a certain name over and over again. The name of the man standing in front of the girl.

Before Akan could make up her mind, Lia spoke again.

“Mom has been waiting for you… all this time.”

Her mother had never said that she was waiting. But it was clear that she was. There was no need to ask who she was waiting for. If Lia didn’t bring this man back, her mother would continue to wait – forever if necessary.

Akan gently helped Lia, who had been sitting on his lap, to her feet. He smoothed the creases in her skirt and tied back the crooked red ribbon in her hair.

His touch was gentle, but Lia’s anxious eyes searched his face, afraid he would slip away. Her small hands clung to the sleeve of his cloak, silently begging him not to leave.

She was smaller than the girl he had met long ago in the great Imperial Palace. Caught in a wave of déjà vu, Akan found the distant past overlapping with the present.

The version of the princess in the fabricated history felt different from the Robellia he had known. Even if his knowledge of her had always been incomplete, the protagonist of that story seemed closer to Liatris, the girl standing before him now. At the end of his thoughts, Akan came to a crucial realisation.

The past could never be undone, but it was still possible to be a kind presence for the girl standing before him – a presence like the man in the false, distorted story.

But wasn’t that far too selfish?

“Lia. What if…”

“Yes?”

“What if it’s all a lie? What if Robellia never waited for me?”

“That’s not true.”

The girl rejected his words firmly, her voice determined. She pursed her lips in defiance and continued with surprising conviction.

“Even if everything Mom told me was a lie, it doesn’t matter. She was still waiting for you. I know it.”

Lia, like her mother, was neither a liar nor a fool. When she stamped her feet in frustration, Akan couldn’t help but chuckle again.

“Sorry. Anyway, she won’t be as happy to see me as you think. So let’s keep it a secret that we’ve met, shall we?”

Lia’s face fell instantly, her round eyes filled with tears.

A reflection of his own eyes, his little counterpart. Akan wanted to grant the girl her wish. But his presence alone would disturb Robellia’s peace.

Lia spoke with a trembling voice.

“Have you done something wrong to mother?”

“Yes.”

“Then go and apologise.”

Such innocent, childish logic. If only his sins could be erased so easily. Akan ruffled Lia’s golden hair, messing it up again. The large ribbon he had carefully tied earlier slipped out of place, unable to bear the disturbance. Pouting, Lia continued.

“But even if she says she hates you and tells you to leave, you can do that. Don’t run away.”

It felt like a blow to the head and Akan inhaled sharply. Lia was right – he was running. Under the guise of doing what was best for Robellia, he was turning a blind eye to his sins and the price he would pay for them.

The last time Akan had seen Robellia, she was unconscious, being loaded into a carriage after being strangled. He’d heard that she’d tried to kill herself several times after arriving here, but had stopped when she found out she was carrying a child.

Akan stared at Lia in silence. This wonderful girl might see him as a blessing, but to her mother he feared he might still be a chain dragging her back to the past. There had been moments when he had even considered taking Lia with him instead.

Growing impatient, Lia began to chatter again.

“Come with me. You came here because you wanted to see Mom, didn’t you?”

“I came because I wanted to see you, Lia.”

“Well, that makes me happy, but… anyway!”

Lia fluttered about like a little bird, while Akan quietly picked up the cloth, empty water bottle and other things that had been in the basket she’d brought. It was as if he was trying to tidy up the chaos in his head.

‘Waiting, huh?’

What could Robellia want? Did she really believe in that nonsense Lia had mentioned? Did she really hope that Akan Roxas was still alive, for whatever reason? No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t find an answer. As Lia had said, he wouldn’t know unless he asked her directly.

Akan stood up. Lia, her face filled with unease, clung to his leg.

“Are you leaving?”

Akan hesitated for the last time. This could be another mistake. It could destroy the peaceful life Robellia and Liatris had built for themselves.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“To your house.”

Lia’s eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected answer, but soon her face lit up with a radiant smile, like sunlight breaking through clouds – a smile that brought back a long-lost afternoon from his memories.

Akan picked up the basket in one hand and held the other out to Lia. She took his hand without hesitation.

“Our house is… oh, but you already know where it is, don’t you?”

Akan nodded. His steps, weighed down by inner turmoil, felt heavy. Holding the young girl’s hand, he walked slowly away from the stream.

He didn’t know what kind of ending Robellia wanted. But if there was one thing Akan dared hope for, it was that he would die at Robellia’s hand.

Only then could he find the extravagant peace he craved, and only then could she finally be freed from the chains of the past and attain true freedom.

If Robellia was indeed living in a box of lies, Akan was prepared to stay in it with her. Until the quill was completely unwound, until the day she no longer needed it. If Robellia could find happiness in this illusion, then the truth didn’t matter much.

Eventually, the two emerged from the forest and reached the path where they had met earlier in the day. Lia, still worried that the man might suddenly run away, tightened her grip on his hand.

“Um… Can I call you Dad?”

“No.”

“Ugh, fine.”

They started walking again, slowly. The dense trees thinned out, and the forest path gradually turned into a proper road, free of roots and stones that could trip them up.

When the pointed roof of a small hut came into view, Akan stopped. His heart stopped and a sticky layer of sweat covered his palms. As his hand grew clammy, Lia adjusted her grip and tightened it.

“Mister…?”

Urged on by the girl, Akan forced himself to take a few more steps, only to stop again.

Lia tilted her head in confusion, looking up at the man who stood as still as a statue. Then, following his gaze, she slowly turned her head.

Beyond the low stone fence, the old gate, always firmly closed, was now wide open. A woman stood in the overgrown garden, which hardly resembled a garden at all.

“Mom?”

Had she come out to look for them? Uncertain, Lia glanced back and forth between the frozen man and the woman at the gate.

A late summer breeze swept through the forest, passing the man and the girl on its way, gently ruffling the woman’s loosely braided golden hair. Neither man nor woman said a word, their gazes locked in silence. Only the girl, confused and unaware of the unspoken tension, cocked her head in curiosity.

The bird that had fled the inferno made its nest amidst the ruins. The man who had left everything behind – regret, revenge, even his own life – had finally arrived at this place.

Neither the truth nor the journey mattered anymore.

They were still the only reason to go on living.

**The End***