Chapter 40

Shati carefully grasped his fingertips, tightly shut her eyes, stepped onto Winden’s clasped hands, placed her other foot into the stirrup, and grabbed the saddle’s handle.

“Kyaa! Kyaaah!”

At that moment, she felt herself being lifted under her arms, and her vision suddenly rose. Karel had picked her up. Before she could process the unexpected situation, her surroundings spun, and she found herself seated in front of Karel.

The view from atop the horse was unfamiliar. It reminded her of the day the expedition first entered Oedel—this remarkable man towering over the residents of Oedel from the lofty back of his warhorse.

Now, she was suddenly at the same eye level as Karel, looking down at the knights. The sensation made the back of her neck tingle.

“Hold onto the front. Put your feet in the stirrups.”

“Yes, yes.”

“Let’s go.”

Just as Karel muttered softly and was about to spur the horse forward—

“Wait a moment, Your Grace.”

Winden, who had been watching the entire scene with a troubled expression, pulled out a bundle of cloth wrapped tightly in his arms.

“A veil.”

“…”

Whether Karel responded or not, Winden placed the bundle into the pouch attached beneath the saddle and stepped back from the horse. Karel’s mood soured further, as he clearly understood the excessive concern his lieutenant was expressing.

“…What a pointless act.”

As he muttered, the horse was already galloping out of Selmane.

* * *

The lake they reached after riding for a long time along Oedel’s outskirts reflected the midday sunlight, its icy blue surface standing stark against the snowy landscape. It was the only place amidst the frozen scenery where warmth could be felt under the vividly blue sky.

Under a large tree by the lakeshore, Shati lay asleep, wrapped snugly in the fur coat Karel had brought along. The sunlight reflected off the snow piled around them, illuminating her face brighter than usual. Perhaps it was the contrast of the brightness that caught his attention. Karel, seated on an exposed tree root near her head, held the piece of cloth in his hand and brought it close to her face.

It was the veil Winden had handed him.

Velvet ribbons were attached to wrap around the forehead, with silk embroidered with black threads hanging loosely below. The material was translucent enough not to completely obscure the face, but its dark hue softened the stark purity of her features, blending them with his dull attire.

Perhaps this would be enough to conceal the striking, radiant violet of her eyes.

He felt a sudden urge to lift her delicate eyelids framed by platinum lashes. Just imagining her unfocused, sleep-laden gaze made something in him swell uncomfortably.

A cold wind blew from the lake, causing the veil to flutter lightly. As shadows danced beneath it, the innocent face of the sleeping girl seemed to carry a fleeting hint of sorrow—a mere illusion.

‘That Winden…’

Winden, the second son of Baron Gramshire, a vassal of the Duke of Montferdia, had been a companion since the days when Karel clung to a single iron sword and barely survived at the duchy’s estate. Despite being born into nobility, Winden had grown up with a deeper understanding of noble etiquette and morality than Karel himself.

Perhaps it was for this reason that Winden’s attitude had grown strangely cold ever since learning of Karel’s decision to take Shati with him. Even Karel knew that his actions were neither chivalrous nor befitting the dignity of a nobleman.

If someone like Winden had gone so far as to create something to conceal Shati’s face… While other knights merely gossiped about the “Princess with Violet Eyes,” Winden, who had seen the First Princess in person, clearly had a different perspective.

It was a statement that he understood the resemblance between Karel’s liege and Shati’s appearance. It was advice not to show Shati’s face when bringing her to the royal palace. And in its own way, it was a demand for Karel to explain the situation to Shati.

The piece of cloth carrying all of Winden’s messages fluttered in Karel’s hand, caught by the icy northern wind. It could easily be discarded with a flick of his wrist, yet Karel couldn’t bring himself to dismiss Winden’s meddling entirely.

It’s cold.

Thinking so, Karel turned to look behind him in surprise.

Shati, wrapped tightly in the fur coat, with only her face peeking out, seemed completely unaffected by the wind brushing against her nose and hair. She looked truly like an innocent child, with her fair complexion untroubled by the world.

Innocent as she might seem, everyone was pleading for her to be spared from the misery that awaited her.

Childlike as she might appear… When those delicate eyelids lifted, revealing those chillingly beautiful eyes, they would ensnare his heart. And that face, only moments ago, had been flushed with desire as she nestled between him and the tree.

‘Wow, I’ve never been this far out before!’

When they had dismounted by the lakeshore, Shati had smiled brightly, as though she had been granted some grand luxury. Her carefree joy had once again stirred something unfamiliar deep within Karel’s chest.

This undefinable unease had been visiting him several times a day.

It was natural for his body to ache when he felt Shati’s slender frame pressed against him as they rode. His desires could hardly remain dormant while in contact with her.

But the moment his heart ached at her unguarded, radiant smile, he found himself unable to cope with the unfamiliar emotions that overwhelmed him daily.

He shouldn’t feel this way about her face—it didn’t make sense.

Surely, he had only fallen for a witch’s seduction and lost his innocence. He was simply a man who, having tasted a woman, now found himself aroused time and again. And perhaps, like his father, he had inherited the vile tendency to selfishly take advantage of weak women. With such reasoning, he had brought Shati out with the intent to indulge in her, pressing her against the sturdy winter tree and exploring beneath her skirts. Though Shati had willingly accepted him without hesitation, Karel’s self-loathing only deepened.

He couldn’t possibly have given her anything that would make her happy.

The translucent black veil crumpled mercilessly in his large hand. After shoving it roughly into his coat, he reached out, brushing her forehead, temple, and cheek with his fingertips as though skimming the surface of the lake. His dull, rough hands, marked by the hardships of his life, looked especially dark against the redness of her wind-chapped cheeks.

Whatever his touch felt like in her dreams, a faint smile spread across Shati’s slightly parted lips.

Please, let this peaceful smile…

His chest tightened and ached.

He couldn’t possibly convince himself why he should dare to hide that painfully beautiful face behind a veil.

***

“Welcome back.”

“……”

It was early evening when Shati returned to Selmane. Her tightly tied hair, now sticking out in various directions unlike in the morning, made it obvious that she had been up to something outside again.

Selma’s gaze naturally drifted to the towering man who followed behind Shati. Without so much as a proper greeting, he briskly passed by her and headed straight for his lodging, showing no intention of playing the role of a devoted companion. Selma’s sigh of pity clung to his retreating back.

Regardless of Karel’s attitude, Shati’s face was still glowing with a cheerful smile, the joy of having ridden out so far on horseback for the first time in her life.

“Child, wasn’t it cold outside?”

Selma asked, cupping Shati’s cheeks, which had turned bright red like apples from the biting wind. Shati’s muffled reply came from within Selma’s hands, 

“No, it was fun.”

“I’ll have bathwater drawn in my room. Why don’t you go there?”

At Selma’s suggestion, Shati’s eyes darted nervously. Though she was no longer working in the inn’s dining hall since she was set to go to the royal palace with Karel, it felt awkward to indulge in such luxuries during the inn’s busy hours.

Noticing Shati’s hesitation, a subtle smile crossed Selma’s lips.

“I have something to talk to you about.”

“…Alright.”

Perhaps it was because Selma had told her not to attend to Karel’s needs at night anymore, but Shati always felt somewhat timid around her.

***

“Child.”

Selma finally broke the silence long after she had begun kneading fragrant oil into Shati’s damp hair.

Shati now had a name, and thinking about its origin made her feel like she had become a part of that extraordinary man. She wished to be called only by that name… Yet, she couldn’t help but feel fond of Selma calling her “Child.” It reminded her of the days when Selma would occasionally hand her some snacks during the time her grandmother was alive. It brought back memories of her grandmother, of the days when she had a name.

Even so, Selma couldn’t bring herself to speak for a while. The sound of her hands working through Shati’s wet hair echoed in the air thickened by steam.

Her hair, now difficult to dry properly in the winter, had grown brittle. The warm, sweet scent of grains infused into it felt refreshingly clean, unlike the familiar greasy smells of meat, alcohol, and wax that permeated the inn. It was a simple yet luxurious fragrance.

Such indulgence—such luxury.

Selma wondered if she had ever bathed Shati like this back when she first brought her to the inn as a young teenager running errands around the village after her grandmother passed away. Now that Shati had grown older, sharing such a moment with Selma felt entirely new. The thought made Shati shrink further into the bathwater, feeling bashful.

“…Oh dear, when you were little, who would’ve thought I’d send you off like this?”

“Hehe.”

“Your grandmother… would be happy, wouldn’t she?”

Selma’s voice faltered uncertainly, prompting Shati to nod briefly. Seeing her response, Selma felt a tightness in her chest. In truth, her mention of Shati’s grandmother was an excuse to ignore the thorny path that seemed to await Shati in the future. It was also a way to quietly bury her own worries about Shati’s blind happiness, which stemmed from being utterly infatuated with that man.