“Sister, you look exhausted.”

“I am exhausted…”

“Do you want to go rest? You almost dropped a cup earlier.”

Riman wiped a plate with a dry cloth and looked at her with unmistakable concern.

If she couldn’t even muster the strength to do that in front of her younger brother, who was looking at her with such concern, then perhaps she truly did need to rest.

Aillen let out a long sigh and stood up.

“I’ll go sit in the clearing for a bit. Call me if you need anything.”

“Okay. I’ll tell Mom.”

She trudged outside and lowered herself onto an empty milk crate, resting her back against the inn’s wall.

The exhaustion she had been fighting off hit her all at once.

She had barely slept for days.

It had been several days since she had visited Seren’s room.

In all that time, she had hardly seen her properly.

It seemed Seren was eating elsewhere and only returning to sleep.

Not catching even a glimpse of Seren, someone she had seen every day, felt like undeniable proof that she was avoiding her.

And yet—

It had been Seren who had made the atmosphere so cold that night.

It was Seren who had placed her hand over Aillen’s.

Aillen forced herself not to remember the warmth of that hand, or how long it had lingered in hers.

Sometimes, she could almost swear she could still feel the faintest hint of it against her skin.

Muttering in frustration changed nothing.

Seren continued to avoid her, and Aillen’s courage seemed to shrink with each passing day.

Would things have been different if she had simply asked what was wrong that night?

But there was no use in speculation.

As Aillen drifted through the inn like a restless ghost, her family and even the other guests asked about her — and some asked about Seren as well.

Without thinking, her father casually asked where the guest she always walked with had gone, earning him sharp glances from Haila and Riman.

It wasn’t his fault.

“She looks about as bad as she did back then. You know. When that man left.”

Aillen had heard the worried whispers. But she didn’t have the strength to correct them or explain that it hadn’t been solely his fault, even then.

With another quiet sigh, she leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees.

The sky above her was unbearably clear.

How long had she been sitting there?

A shadow fell across her, and she slowly lifted her head.

She told herself it was probably one of her siblings. Yet she couldn’t quite silence the small, fragile hope that it might be Seren.

But it was neither of the two people she had imagined.

Nevertheless, the face standing before her was just as welcome.

“Miriam!”

“Good heavens, Aillen, are you all right? I came over so carefully because I thought you might have collapsed. What’s wrong with your complexion? Has something happened? People were saying you’d seemed better lately.”

Miriam leaned in close, her face etched with concern.

Aillen was suddenly overwhelmed by a rush of relief — so sudden and unreasonable that it nearly brought her to tears. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms tightly around Miriam, ignoring the startled protest that followed.

“Are you that happy to see me? Something really did happen, didn’t it?”

Keeping everything bottled up any longer would have been unbearable.

Slowly and haltingly at first, Aillen began to tell Miriam what had happened over the past few days.

***

“Aillen… I think you really do have something with the North.”

“That’s not what matters right now.”

“Maybe not, but… isn’t it possible she’s avoiding you for reasons that have nothing to do with you? I’ve actually seen her in town a few times lately.”

“In town? Where?”

“At the post office.”

Miriam hesitated, as though considering whether to say more. But when she saw Aillen’s green eyes shining with fragile expectancy, she abandoned her restraint.

“I don’t know what it’s about, but she looked very busy. In and out all the time.”

As she watched her friend’s face brighten and dim in turn, Miriam found that she could not bring herself to mention that she had seen Seren elsewhere as well. Without knowing the circumstances, she could not tell whether it would comfort Aillen or cause her further distress.

“So… what I mean is, it might not be because of you. There could be something else going on.”

“Well. I’m not sure whether that’s reassuring or not…”

“Then why not just wait at her door tonight and ask?”

“No. That feels… excessive.”

“Why? If you’re together, then avoiding you like that is wrong. You should be guarding the inn door so she can’t slip past you.”

“Together? What are you talking about? We’re not together—we’re just friends!”

“Friends?”

Miriam looked genuinely perplexed.

After a moment, her expression shifted into something more cautious.

“Then… is it unrequited?”

“That’s not it either! I mean—we’re simply—we’re really just…”

We’re really… what?

The words would not come.

‘And my heart?’

As the silence stretched, Miriam stamped her foot in irritation.

“What is this? You’ve been agonizing over someone you’re ‘nothing’ with? If you’re not even in that kind of relationship, then it should be easier to approach her!”

“It’s not that simple!”

“Where did the girl go who used to kick down my door when we fought?”

Aillen had no answer.

To say You’re different from Seren would only contradict everything she had insisted earlier.

Miriam and Seren were different.

It wasn’t a question of liking one more than the other — it was the current that flowed between them.

Aillen stopped herself.

She was beginning to contradict her own thoughts.

They sighed at nearly the same moment. They stared at each other, their eyes wide, before both burst into laughter.

“So what about the letter? What did you do?”

“I threw it away. I didn’t feel like reading it, and I had no reason to. I was clear when I refused him. Sending another like that isn’t right.”

She chose not to add that she had been unable to open it because of a strange pricking guilt.

It had nothing to do with Calix, after all.

“You did well. The persistent type should be cut off cleanly.”

“If I don’t reply, he’ll stop writing eventually.”

Then, as if remembering something—

“By the way, Miriam, what brings you here today? Haven’t you been busy?”

“Busy? No more than you are. I thought you were in love, so I left you alone. Turns out that wasn’t even the case! Silly Aillen! You should have just dated someone! Ow! OK, OK, I’ll stop teasing.”

Miriam rubbed her arm where Aillen had pinched her, as though bracing herself for retaliation, and took a step back.

Aillen let out a breathy laugh and gestured for her to continue.

Then she froze.

That tilt of the head was Seren’s habit.

Miriam, unaware of anything unusual, continued casually.

“You’re performing at the festival, aren’t you? I haven’t heard what song you’ve chosen yet, so I came to ask.”

“The festival?”

The word slipped out before she could stop herself.

Of course.

The season of the festival was approaching. With everything that had happened, she had completely forgotten.

“Don’t tell me you signed up to sing and then forgot about it.”

“Hmm…”

Unable to deny it, she smiled sheepishly.

Miriam’s eyes narrowed.

The crease between her brows deepened at Aillen’s guilty grin.

“So… do you think they could take my name off the list?”

“What? No! I know you’ve been distracted lately, but the list has already been submitted. It’s too late to withdraw.”

“Isn’t there any way?”

“You know everything’s already prepared. There’s nothing we can do.”

“That’s true.”

Aillen agreed too quickly.

She hadn’t asked before because she truly believed it might be possible. Miriam must have known that.

‘How could I have forgotten that?’

She had participated in the festival every year, always singing. This year was no different.

The only thing she had overlooked was that she had signed up before leaving for the north. Events had moved forward without her.

This was not something she had foreseen, nor could she have changed it. Yet her heart had already drifted away and would not return simply because she wanted it to.

“…I really don’t want to go.”

“You say you’re not even dating anyone, but I’m starting to think it is because of that guest.”

As Aillen raised her hand again as though to pinch her, Miriam quickly lifted both hands in surrender.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry.”

Aillen, a little defensive now, muttered.

“It’s just… maybe it’s time I stopped doing things like that.”

“Stopped? We’re hardly old enough for that.”

Miriam’s incredulous look only earned her a weak smile in return.

It would have been easier if she could have forgotten everything.

But that would have meant making the same mistakes again.

After talking for a while longer, Miriam eventually left.

It had been nice to catch up and laugh with her, but Aillen was too tired to walk her out. She said goodbye from where she sat.

Miriam didn’t seem to expect her to accompany her down the path.

Perhaps she looked unwell. Even her family left her alone.

Part of her thought it might be better to keep busy with work.

But in her current state, she would only be a burden.

So Aillen remained seated until the air grew cooler.

She still hadn’t chosen the song she would sing at the festival. Perhaps she should decide now.

He will return,
Across the Midan River, across the river,
Carrying the yew berries he once promised…

Why did she always find herself drawn to songs like this?

Her mood sank again.

She fell silent.

She had never seen a yew tree in person before.

They didn’t grow in the south.

Was it a tree that only grew in colder regions?

Why did her thoughts keep wandering there, unbidden?

She had just let out a sigh when a long shadow fell over her. Along with it came a familiar voice, lilting as though it carried its own melody.

“The song sounds sad.”

Her blue-grey eyes, which had been absent for days, were back.

Her face was as calm as if nothing had happened between them.

Relief and irritation rose together.

Aillen nodded absently, then stopped herself and added.

“It’s not as though we live every day feeling cheerful and happy, you know.”

A low laugh spread into the dimming air.

It was such a welcome sound that, for an instant, it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

“Then let me say this—Nor does the North know only melodies of cold and sorrow.”

Her eyes narrowed faintly, perhaps recalling the song she herself had once sung.

‘Of course, that’s the only one with lyrics I know.’

She felt her lips curl upward at the thought. By the time she tried to suppress it, the smile had already bloomed.

She had intended to show her displeasure by withholding a reaction—

But that was harder than expected, when it came to Seren.

“Won’t you sing more?”

“I only remember that one line. Like someone.”

“How unfortunate.”

Seren stepped closer, hands clasped behind her back.

Aillen forced herself not to retreat.

“I hear there’s a festival.”

“There is.”

“And you’ll be singing.”

“Who told you?”

“Miss Bolleneu.”

“Ah.”

Just as suddenly as she had appeared, Seren fell silent again.

Then, just as abruptly, she extended her hand.

Aillen stared at it, bewildered.

It was a bouquet of roses wrapped in elegant paper.

“Perhaps it is somewhat traditional, but I could think of nothing better.”

“…Why are you giving this to me?”

“Because I wished to. And…”

After a brief silence, Seren continued.

“I’m sorry.”

She gestured as if to ask if she could sit down. The crate was narrow, but Aillen moved over to make room for her.

When Aillen didn’t ask what the apology was for, Seren smiled faintly and placed a bouquet of roses in her hands.

Their shoulders brushed.

A mild warmth passed between them.

For no reason, Aillen swung her legs around and edged away slightly. Seren did not move closer.

“I think I need to go back to the North.”

“…What?”

“There’s something I need to finish.”

Today, Seren was nothing but sudden turns.

Stunned, Aillen blinked quickly. Her heart began to race without warning.

“Will you come back?”

That wasn’t what she had meant to say.

She had meant to say something lighter, like ‘Travel safely’ or ‘What happened?’. Something easy to let pass.

But the words that escaped her were not part of that plan.

Yet it was the only question that truly mattered.

She realized this only after speaking.

Why Seren was leaving did not matter.

The only thing that mattered was whether she would come back.

“Immediately.”

As though sensing that was not enough, Seren furrowed her brow and added,

“I had planned to leave at once, but… I couldn’t miss your performance. I’ll watch you on stage, and once this matter is resolved, I’ll come straight back.”

Aillen fell silent.

Her mouth would not move.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Seren—so unlike herself—absently touching her fingertips, a flicker of restlessness in her movements.

“Aren’t you going to ask what it is?”

“…It must be something important. Something personal.”

Seren paused.

Aillen scolded herself inwardly. If she was going to act offended, she should have done so earlier—when Seren had appeared so theatrically. Why was her timing always wrong?

The self-reproach did not last.

Seren spoke again at once.

“When I get back from the north, there’s something I want to tell you, Aillen. It’s important.”

The blue-grey eyes that turned towards her were far too close.

They were sitting side by side on the empty milk crate, and no matter how much she tried to lean away, their shoulders still touched.

Seren’s breath felt dangerously close.

Looking down, she saw the shadow of the bouquet trembling faintly, even though there was no wind.

Voices drifted dimly from inside the inn.

Slowly, Aillen nodded.

It was the most she could manage at that moment.