Chapter 121
The day of the finals.
Terhan could immediately identify his opponent just by the sight of worn shoes swaying under a robe and the hem of brown pants.
Those shoes and pants were the outfit Hestia had first lent him.
It was her.
Only then did Terhan understand the source of the aching, familiar longing he had been feeling.
Until the finals, he had never once watched Tia Lane’s matches, so he hadn’t recognized her. Or rather, he hadn’t felt the need to.
Just the thought of facing Hestia in person stirred a strange, thrilling excitement within him. Terhan struggled to restrain the corners of his mouth from curling into a smile.
He wanted to get closer, quickly, desperately.
But Hestia showed no intention of moving.
“Will you take the first strike?”
After forcing down his trembling, he asked, but Hestia seemed to ponder briefly before shaking her head.
He wanted to hear her voice.
A bittersweet disappointment spread through him.
“Then I’ll go first.”
His body, lost to anxious longing, moved impulsively.
As he approached, her signature scent enveloped him: the freshness of wildflowers and the crisp aroma of a forest.
A faint smile lifted Terhan’s lips. Just a little closer… he wanted to reach her.
His throat was dry. His lips parched, a familiar thirst rising within him. It felt like a drop of dew falling onto the nose of a parched beast.
It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. A rush of impatience surged—he wanted to envelop her in his arms immediately.
But Hestia merely let her sword drift, taking a step back each time, as if she had no intention of standing face-to-face. Little did she know how her actions tormented him.
“There’s nowhere left to retreat,” he murmured.
He longed to hear her voice, yet she remained silent, sidestepping to block his sword again.
“Just a little closer…”
Then, a voice escaped her lips—a voice that fell on Terhan like rain on a parched flower, making his heart race. At the same time, he noticed the unease in Hestia that had been troubling him all along.
Before he could react, her sword shot forward sharply. Terhan deflected the threatening blade and returned a showy thrust.
Swoosh.
A few strands of her crimson hair slipped from under her hood, glinting silver in the light as they fell to the ground.
Damn it. He needed to be more careful.
“…Again,” he said, voice heavy with guilt, steadying his trembling hands and gripping his sword anew.
If Hestia had a desire, he would fulfill it—especially if it was for him. He would bloom it in a brilliance beyond measure.
For Hestia, and for himself, Terhan wielded his sword beautifully and powerfully. The crowd’s gasps and cheers grew louder with each strike.
Engraving. If the first match was to announce his presence, the second was to leave an indelible mark. He needed to show how he differed from the First Prince.
That was Terhan’s goal in entering this contest, and Hestia’s reason for stepping into the arena.
Clash!
At a distance almost close enough to feel her breath, the final strike collided.
Terhan could no longer hide his longing. Her scent, strong on the breeze, threatened to overwhelm his reason.
“…Tia.”
He finally spoke her name.
“…Hestia.”
He released the precious name into the air.
Had he been too hasty? Should he have waited until she spoke first?
Startled, Hestia ducked further under her hood, and Terhan was seized by a choking impatience.
“I’ve been waiting.”
His words burst out before he could stop them.
While she was away. And for the day they were destined to meet. Words he had swallowed countless times: “I will wait. I will wait for you.”
And now…
“I’ve been waiting.”
For the day he would face her again. For the moment he could speak such words. That’s why they came out unbidden.
“If you… don’t come back… I would have sought you. Even if I had to risk everything.”
His voice, already faintly wet with emotion, escaped his control. All that mattered now was conveying his heart to Hestia. Gently, so she would not be afraid, so she could feel safe.
“Hestia, you…”
And finally, Hestia lifted her head. Her bright brown eyes glistened with tears, on the verge of spilling.
“I… I…”
Her small lips trembled as she struggled to speak.
But…
“I know. I know what you’re about to say.”
She didn’t need to speak for Terhan to understand her feelings. Her expression, her eyes, revealed all.
“Tha…nk you…”
Even so, her words slipped through red lips with effort, and a small, moist smile followed.
Ha… How could he not love her? She, who simply being there was a blessing. She…
He wanted to hold her immediately. To thank her for returning. To apologize for making her search for him first. To vow he would protect her with everything from now on. Never to let this warmth slip away again.
Countless promises knelt before Hestia.
So…
“All is as you wish.”
Hestia, he wanted her to act freely, without restraint.
Terhan dropped his sword to the ground.
The crowd cheered, but Hestia’s face turned pale, and she stepped back.
“Look at me, Hestia. Only me. Don’t think about anything else. Only what you want to do.”
Terhan lightly held Hestia’s sworded hand, supporting her as she faced the world. He lowered his head to meet her eyes hidden beneath the hood.
What frightened her so? Just seeing her trembling pained Terhan’s heart.
I am here.
Look at me.
Trust me.
It’s safe.
He continuously conveyed his heart to her. Though he couldn’t know the exact pain of her past, he wanted to free her from it. Just as Hestia had saved him…
Time passed swiftly. Spring’s warmth faded, and summer stretched its limbs.
The Emperor’s Palace, in the dining hall.
Old paintings adorned the walls, and a chandelier with thousands of crystals hung from the ceiling.
Beneath it, a long, antique dining table commanded the room. In the vast space, the only sound was the soft clinking of utensils.
“It’s been a while since we’ve dined together like this.”
Seated at the top of the table, draped in red velvet and gold, Emperor Cassius placed his utensils down and spoke quietly.
“…I apologize for not visiting sooner.”
Across the table, Terhan also put down his utensils, swallowing lightly before speaking.
Even though the meal had begun some time ago, most of the food remained untouched.
“I am not speaking to scold you.”
“….”
Silence returned, and at Cassius’ gesture, the steward Heron and attendants quickly cleared the table.
“Would you like the usual tea?”
Heron approached and bowed slightly.
“…I would like it with blueberries,” Cassius replied, glancing at Terhan. Heron smiled kindly and exited the hall.
Again, a brief silence settled, broken only by the faint sounds of the attendants preparing tea. Soon, cups of tea at the perfect temperature were placed before each.
Terhan gazed quietly at his cup. The clear blue tea, emitting a delicate steam, was his usual choice. It reminded him of Hestia in the past.
Though Terhan’s eyes betrayed a fleeting hope, he quickly dismissed it.
It couldn’t be.
The Emperor would have no interest in him. If he had, he wouldn’t have allowed the death of Terhan’s beloved mother. He wouldn’t have neglected him through countless near-death experiences.
Terhan swallowed the tea with a self-deprecating smile. Today, it tasted unusually bitter—perhaps only an illusion.
“…Do you have any plans next?”
Cassius’ gaze remained on his cup, savoring the aroma as he spoke in his usual detached tone.
“Whether you have plans or not, what will you do? You bear the worries of the empire; there is no need to burden me as well.”
Terhan did not raise his eyes, responding only with the duty expected of a subordinate.
Silence fell again, punctuated by small noises.
“Just this once… be honest with me.”
Suddenly, Cassius’ sharp gaze met Terhan’s.
Terhan froze, unsure of what the Emperor intended. A faint unease settled over him.
Cassius seemed to hesitate, choosing his words carefully, then abruptly set his jaw.
“….”
What could he possibly want to say? Terhan’s eyes studied him closely.
Seeing the Emperor hesitate so, Terhan felt the urge to stand and leave immediately.
He no longer wished to hear, to understand, or to acknowledge Cassius’ true feelings.
The time when he tried to understand the Emperor was long gone; back then, he had been utterly ignored.
Even the first words would likely carry immense weight. Perhaps no words could truly describe them.
Terhan didn’t want to hear them. There was no reason to.
“I apologize, but I will hear your words another time.”
Just as he was about to rise, Cassius spoke, firm and clear:
“I want you to inherit the throne.”
The words struck Terhan instantly, holding him in place with unyielding force.
