ntion of death was precisely where Irene had been walking on eggshells when it ca to Felix.
She knew that if she ntioned the ones she lost, it would imply he had to talk about those he lost as well. It was easier to live alongside one another as two deeply scarred humans who silently acknowledged each other’s trauma and nothing more than that.
However, the ale made Felix conversational. Even though he seed more lighthearted, it also made him more introspective.
It wasn’t the first ti he used drinking late at night to soothe his wounds.
Irene looked down at the sword Felix ntioned. It was the arming sword she was given to replace the small dagger she used at first. She had grown since then, but it was still a suitable fit. She hadn’t grown much more while everyone else had far surpassed her in size—even Leif had before he passed.
"My sword is a better fit for ," she admitted. "The handle has been worn where I like to hold it. I... ah."
She resisted saying more. Would it make both of them sad? She didn’t want to put a damper on their mood that evening. Their first day of travel together seed to have concluded positively, but this was taking it a step further.
There was a mont of pause, but then Felix filled the space with his curiosity.
"Go on," Felix urged as he sat up straighter. "What were you going to say?"
"I feel if I carry his sword too much, the leather grip won’t be molded to the shape of his hand any longer," she admitted softly. "I can’t bear to erase more traces of him from the world."
Felix sowhat regretted pushing her to answer. The words that escaped her lips caused his heart to clench.
"I know what you an," he responded lightly.
Her eyes weren’t on him, but they went to him when she heard him start to move where he had been sitting.
For the first ti in front of another person, he reached for his pocket and produced the small red, leatherbound notebook.
"What is that?" she asked softly, not wanting to push but knowing he was more willing to answer since he had opened the door to the conversation in the first place.
He seed to have a faraway look in his eyes as he stared at the book, but didn’t seem to look at it. He was reliving mories, both good and bad, that were explicitly intertwined in his heart.
"On the day I found Agnes in the kitchen, she was holding this," he explained. "This is where she put all the notes I gave her. All the flowers."
While most of the flowers had fallen out of it, he kept it because there were sheets of paper torn where she had scrawled her own responses to him. He had been keeping them in a small box of his own, but now that he knew where her notes originated from, he put them all together in one book. It was sothing he did when they were still stuck in the barracks after they found her.
The thought made Irene sick with guilt, but it was for a different reason than she could have predicted.
There was sothing so very painful about the way he seed to yearn for soone who was no longer there. She felt desperate sincerity that he should have been able to have a life with the girl he wanted.
She wanted to cry out and beg the gods for an answer. Even though she was the first to say she believed in the Sünstoian version of an afterlife, it still wasn’t fair. Felix was a good person, so why did it have to happen to him?
Her eyes were watering when she formulated a response.
"That’s beautiful," she admitted. "Truly. She was lucky to have you. How special that you got to be the only man she would ever love."
Love in itself made Irene feel miserable. Lost love like that, even worse.
"Strangely lucky," he agreed. "Strangely, the most unlucky at the sa ti."
Irene nodded at that. It was the truth.
The girl felt there was nothing she could say, knowing there was nothing that could ever be said to rectify that situation.
When she was satisfied that her sword didn’t have a weakness that could get rusted or damaged, she slowly sheathed it again and undid her belt so she could hang it over one of the posts of the bed she was to sleep in.
Since it wasn’t as if she was going to wear pajamas while sharing a room, she opted to go into the bathroom where she changed into softer pants, less thick than the riding pants she had on before. When she was finally back, Felix was already settled into his bed and underneath the blankets. They might as well enjoy the beds to the fullest since they wouldn’t be able to see a bed each night of their trip around the duchy.
All that was left providing light in their room was one of the candles on the candelabra that once had four lit. She was pleased that the other knight had decided to wait until she was settled before blowing it out completely.
However, as she settled into her bed finally and uttered a quiet ’goodnight,’ she was shocked when Felix spoke up again.
"You’re still not interested in ever settling down with soone, aren’t you?"
She paused for a long while. If it were anyone other than Felix, she might worry that it was a loaded question.
"Nothing has ever made want to change my mind on that," she admitted. "As any girl might wish, perhaps soone to change my mind hasn’t co along yet, but I’m not holding out hope for anything of the sort."
She could never picture herself as soone who fawned over a man, nor had she ever looked at a man and been shy over his handsoness. Rather, she could look around and know if soone was conventionally attractive and rely accept that as fact and move on. Sir Alix was one of those people. Even Commander Lothian had qualities she thought were handso, but she wasn’t sure if it was solely based on appearance or all of the rumors that surrounded him, such as his selflessness and dedication towards his knighthood.
For the first ti in a while, Felix cracked a genuine smile.
"I want to be an optimistic fool who tells you to keep your heart open," he responded. "But I wish I had never felt what it was like to be completely and dumbly taken by soone."
Her heart clenched.
She knew that he was confiding in her much more than he had confided in anyone else, perhaps ever. It put her in a complicated situation of not knowing how she was supposed to respond.
All she ca up with in a few monts was simple.
"Even if you close your heart forever, know that anyone would be lucky to have soone as kind and loyal as you are, Felix," she assured him.
She wouldn’t go further than that because the mories were bittersweet.
Even though they often went long tis without talking to one another, Agnes would fill Irene in on random things in her life. Irene knew when Felix kissed Agnes for the first ti. She even heard the maid gush about how she thought Felix was misunderstood because of how much of a jokester he was.
When there was finally silence after Felix blew out the candle so they could get so shut-eye, Irene was plagued with these thoughts.
I hope you can see him now, Irene pleaded silently into the darkness. Every mont of his day is spent mourning you, Agnes.
Luckily, since it was dark, Felix didn’t have to witness a tear slide out of Irene’s eyes and fall down the side of her face and into the pillow that cushioned her head.
She didn’t bother wiping it away and rely shut her eyes, begging the world to afford her so sleep. She knew that her moods were more volatile if she didn’t get rest, and she wanted Felix to be able to continue relying on her as he had been for the very first part of their trip.
It seed she was right because, as the pair traveled, they grew closer and had an even better understanding of one another. They shared their sad, candid thoughts and found reasons to laugh again.
The weather was getting colder and colder, but their friendship and understanding were so much warr. It made it bearable to go around the duchy and ask if the reeves or village leaders needed anything from the knighthood that winter.
It wasn’t until they made it to the eastern edge of the duchy that things stopped being so monotonous in their professional life.
As they sat at a pub after a day of listening to a reeve’s grievances, they crossed paths with soone most unexpected.
"Stanley?" Irene questioned as she walked to the counter where the old mage sat.
User Comments
0 comments from readers