“I am Bailey. I am the one who must disappear.”

“Afterward, you’ll no longer be Bailey. You’ll simply be yourself.”

“Not Bailey? That would mean…”

I’d be nothing. Helia let out a hollow laugh. It felt like wordplay, a futile, circular argument leading nowhere.

But Ruben firmly denied her assumption, which starkly contrasted with the cautious tone he had used to gauge her reaction earlier.

“That’s not true. At that time, you’ll have everything except Bailey.”

“And what is that supposed to be?”

“What should have always been yours.”

“…”

“What you deserve to reclaim.”

Helia held her breath. What should have been hers was lost. The first thing that came to mind was a conversation she’d had with Ruben in the past, words she had spat out bitterly during a moment of despair when she had even considered throwing away her life.

“Because that throne was always mine.”

But no one ever saw it that way. They mocked the long years she had endured to reach that place, calling it a delusion. A foolish ambition. Blind greed. The reckless desire of an extravagant princess. Everyone said as much.

But now Ruben was saying he would give it all to her. Not something she didn’t already have, but what was rightfully hers.

The truth, once unclear, now seemed irrefutable. Yes. That was my place. It always was. I am its rightful heir.

Helia closed her eyes as if resigning herself to a reality she could hardly bear. Her lashes quivered faintly. Seeing her so overwhelmed, Ruben spoke as though seeking her forgiveness.

“If you cannot abandon anything, I will make sure you can have everything.”

“……”

“If you intend to grasp everything and move forward, I will support your hands so you won’t lose anything.”

When Helia told Ruben she couldn’t abandon even the tarnished name of Bailey, she rejected his proposal to leave everything behind. This left him with only one option: to give her everything she needed, aside from Bailey, to make Bailey seem insignificant in comparison.

“I might fail.”

Helia murmured softly, almost to herself, her gaze trembling with uncertainty. Yes, she might fail, just as she said. Although he wanted to assure her of success, she didn’t need vague promises. Instead, Ruben offered words he could guarantee, regardless of whether the outcome before them was success or failure.

“But you won’t be alone.”

Helia’s golden eyes, quivering with anxiety, suddenly steadied as if her unease had never existed. Those eyes now held only Ruben Effenberg. And that alone brought him indescribable joy. He could say it as often as she needed to hear it: no matter the result, they would face it together. He would never let go of her hand again. That was all he could promise, but precisely because it was all, he would guard it desperately.

“You said we should stay in our respective places.”

“…Yes.”

“Then your side is my place and my path.”

“….”

“Even if we never meet again, that truth will not change.”

Ruben, barely managing to steady his trembling voice, spoke his final words. His face had turned pale, and a bitter smile graced his lips. The slightly distorted expression, as if he were suppressing pain, evoked sympathy in those who saw it.

No matter how difficult it was, he had to say it—for her. So that she could make a decision solely for herself, spreading her wings freely without being bound by anything. So that no one, nothing, could hinder her from making a choice that was entirely hers.

Even if she left, her will would continue. That was an unshakable premise. From the beginning, defying her wishes wasn’t even a consideration. If she chose to stay, he would clear the path before her. He would defeat the enemies in the sky if she decided to fly. That was his duty.

If she chose not to remain in Bailey, Helia could become the crown princess of the Empire and forget Bailey entirely. She could enjoy privileges far beyond what a king of a small nation could offer. Perhaps that path would be better for her—free from rebellion, the stench of blood, and tarnished names. The thought of her standing beside the crown prince tore his heart apart, but that was the pain he alone had to endure. 

She could abandon him as much as she needed to. He reminded himself of this countless times, even as his chest ached and his throat burned with agony. Imagining her turning away from him was like self-inflicted punishment, yet he forced himself to accept it. Even if the wounds he had inflicted on her haunted him each night with regret, even if the memory of nearly losing her caused him to jolt awake, even if such torment became a daily curse—yes, even if every day remained as it was now—he would still live for her.

All the aftermath belonged to Ruben Effenberg alone. Helia didn’t need to know about the nights when he lost her in his dreams, waking up screaming countless times. He just wanted to offer her a path for herself—one free of burdens like responsibility or honor. Taking a deep breath to calm his erratic heartbeat, he spoke again, hoping his voice wouldn’t tremble.

“So, please, don’t feel burdened by rejecting me. You have every right to do so.”

He was simply glad he could say this to her. Even if she ultimately turned away from him, even if her gaze never held him again, he was grateful he could tell her she would always have him.

Helia looked down at Ruben, who knelt before her. His tense shoulders and the neat curve of his back drew her gaze. That broad back, which had always rejected her coldly and stood unwaveringly tall like an insurmountable mountain, now curved gently toward her.

Absolute submission.

For a moment, Helia felt an overwhelming urge to embrace that back—one she once believed she could never reach. The back that had turned away from her repeatedly, the one she had long gazed at from afar, stretching her hands in vain to catch up. Those memories were still vivid. The image of that back, which had always left her behind, lingered in her mind longer than anything else. In truth, the moment that steadfast back bent toward her, the answer had already been decided.

My dearest, how could I ever refuse you?

Helia opened her mouth to speak but closed it again. Her chest was so full of emotions that she couldn’t find the words to express them. Instead, she knelt, willingly lowering herself. Slowly, she reached out her hand. Warmth settled on his shoulder, and Ruben flinched at her touch. His green eyes, cast downward in self-condemnation, now lifted to meet hers.

I see the light. Like sunlight cascading through the leaves, tracing their edges on a vivid summer day. It’s warm and clear—the brilliance I always yearned for. I wanted to enter its glow, even at the edges. I wanted to bask in it, even for a moment. That’s why I still stretched my hand, even knowing I might never reach it.

And now, I stand at the heart of that light. Everywhere I look, it’s bright—so blinding it hurts my eyes. Perhaps that’s why tears come so quickly.

I will fear no more, even if this light fades. Even if it vanishes into the darkness like a falling star. Even if I am seized by emptiness once again.

“Come with me. Even to hell.”

The faint yet resolute voice resounded sharply in the dark room. The eyes staring blankly at her widened in surprise, trembling visibly, enough to be noticeable even through blurred, tear-filled vision.

“Of course, I will go with you. Anywhere, anytime…”

Ruben’s voice trailed off, heavy with emotion. He blinked as though struggling to accept the reality before him. As he stared, Helia finally extended her arms. Her delicate hands reached over his shoulders and encircled his neck. Even then, he neither pulled away nor turned from her embrace.

At last, they touched.

Helia closed her eyes tightly, warm and stinging tears rolling down her cheeks.

Ruben’s body stiffened at the unfamiliar warmth. Awkward and caught off guard, he didn’t know how to respond. Eventually, he raised his hands. His entire body trembled as he brought them to rest against her back, clasping them together. As though the miracle that had come to him was too much to believe. That trembling conveyed itself to Helia, who tightened her grip around his neck. 

It’s okay. You can come closer. As though receiving permission, Ruben, who had tentatively held her waist, suddenly pulled her into a firm embrace.

Yes. This was it. The arms she had yearned for across thousands of sleepless nights. The one warmth she had desperately sought. The truth was, it was everything to her—your warmth.

“Ruben…”