Chapter 44
The knight with brown hair and purple eyes, whose safety she had so fervently wished for, now stood quietly in the corner as a jewelry shop clerk, black hair, black eyes, slightly hunched, head bowed, looking down at the floor.
She gave him only a fleeting glance and immediately turned her attention to the next clerk, yet in her mind, that image lingered relentlessly.
“This can’t be happening.”
She tried to steady her racing breath. She couldn’t quite remember what her normal breathing pace was. But if her breathing suddenly became rapid, the knights might notice.
Turning her head back to Oliver, the jewelry clerk in the center, she did her best to avoid looking at him again. Oliver began greeting and introducing things, but none of it reached her ears.
“Why is Agen here? And… what is he wearing?”
It wasn’t unheard of that hair could be dyed, but eye color?
“No, more importantly… this is the heart of the enemy’s territory.”
Unconsciously, she scanned the hall, taking note of the knights stationed around. Four inside the hall alone, and surely more outside. She didn’t know the current state of the castle’s defenses, but she knew that a large number of the Requies Knights remained within.
Even if Agen was a strong knight, there was no way he could face so many without weapons…
As Oliver continued his long-winded explanations of the jewelry, a clerk stepped forward with a velvet box and placed it before Arlen. Inside were a diamond headpiece and matching earrings, gleaming brilliantly with elegance.
“Would you like to try them on?”
Arlen took a deep breath and slowly nodded. Pretending interest in the jewelry felt natural enough. But what if showing interest too suddenly seemed awkward? Had she ever shown interest in a dress when Lady Fyor had visited? Every action felt unnatural.
The clerk carefully placed the box on the side table next to Arlen, then gently placed the headpiece on her head and earrings on her ears with gloved hands.
A maid hurried forward, holding a mirror in front of Arlen.
“Oh, miss, you look absolutely beautiful!”
“It’s as if these were made just for you—they suit you perfectly.”
The maids’ customary flattery directed at a lady began, but Arlen quietly nodded and removed the headpiece from her hair.
The clerk understood her intention, took back the earrings, and displayed the box open on the table.
“The next piece is called ‘Joy of the Sea,’ crafted meticulously by artisan Ortega from gems mined in the Bidbone Mines…”
Oliver’s long-winded explanation continued, but when ‘he’ began to move, nothing registered in her ears. All her senses were acutely focused on one point.
He was coming.
She couldn’t bring herself to look directly at him.
No, it couldn’t be happening—but the sound of his footsteps echoed through the hall, each step resonating loudly.
It felt as if everyone was watching, suspecting them both. Her over-sensitive skin prickled painfully, as if the top layer of her flesh had been peeled away.
She realized her hands had unconsciously clenched into fists, quickly relaxed them, and tensed in case someone had seen.
Finally, he reached her, kneeling and presenting the contents of the box.
She first glanced at the box, then cautiously lifted her eyes toward his face.
Familiar neck, jawline, mouth… past the bridge of his nose… and just as it seemed their eyes might meet, she couldn’t bring herself to look up and lowered her gaze again.
Still… he looked healthy. That was a relief.
“Would you like to try it on, miss?”
At Oliver’s prompt, she nodded once more.
Agen placed the box on the table and lifted a necklace out. A maid helped lift her hair, and Agen moved behind her, draping the necklace around her neck.
His hand brushed past her face and settled at her neck. The cool metal and stones pressed lightly against her skin, the soft glove brushing gently.
At that instant, she suddenly recalled the bruise left by Kashien on her nape.
A gasp caught in her throat.
Don’t look.
Please, don’t look.
But she couldn’t tell him to stop, nor could she pull her hands away. She simply stayed still, as if nothing were happening, defenseless.
She had no choice but to remain frozen, exposing everything, to the one person she least wanted to see her like this.
The relief of seeing him healthy vanished, replaced by a cold fear that ran through her veins. It felt like ice water poured over her head. She wanted to disappear right there, but such a miracle was impossible.
Her full attention focused on her nape. The brief act of placing the necklace felt eternal.
His touch moved smoothly, confidently, without hesitation, placing the necklace and securing the chain.
For a moment, his hand seemed to gently caress her. The touch was so light, so natural, it seemed unintentional…
“…maybe he won’t notice.”
A few days had passed. The marks had probably faded, and her hair cast shadows. Perhaps he wouldn’t see them.
As she tried to calm herself with this thought, Agen returned and knelt before her, holding a bracelet from the box.
“Miss, may I have your hand for a moment…?”
Hearing the familiar situation and voice, she instinctively looked up at him.
Their eyes met.
Those familiar yet unfamiliar black eyes looked at her, waiting. On the verge of tears, yet smiling calmly.
Perhaps sad, slightly angry, a little bloodshot, but still gentle and warm, kneeling before her, waiting, holding out his hand.
The sight was so familiar it felt like a return to those past days. She, almost entranced, placed her hand atop his.
Through the thin glove, his warmth transferred to her hand.
Arlen’s gaze naturally fell to their hands.
Her bony, fragile hand, exposed like a winter branch, was held gently as if it were the most precious thing in the world. He squeezed once, then relaxed.
With his other hand, he carefully fastened the bracelet.
The bracelet dangled loosely on her slender forearm, suspended like a fragile string between wrist and elbow.
She hadn’t wanted to show this. She wanted to show that she was living well, that she was okay…
…but from the moment she had entered the hall, carried instead of walking, he had already seen everything—exposed everything.
All the things she never wanted him to see.
She unconsciously bit her lower lip.
“How does it feel?”
At Oliver’s question, a maid approached with a mirror. Agen had stepped back, leaving the mirror in place.
For the first time, she truly saw herself in the mirror.
A thin, gnarled neck, a large blue jewel dangling awkwardly, and beside it, blotchy, conspicuous, miserable red marks…
She stared blankly at the mirror.
Time slowly passed. Her eyelids lowered and lifted. Perhaps she wished the lowly image of herself would vanish somewhere in that time. But the woman in the mirror remained.
Eventually, Agen carefully returned the removed jewelry to the box, displayed it neatly on the table, and returned to his corner. She didn’t look at him even once, instead staring at the lowly woman in the mirror for a long while.
Then, pretending as if nothing had happened, she received introductions to several more pieces of jewelry, tried them on, and finally lowered her hands. Anna, having been given full authority to purchase on behalf of her lady, ordered the expensive pieces that suited her, wrapping up the visit.
…Fortunately, nothing had happened. She thought only of that.
No one had noticed, no one had been hurt.
He hadn’t been hurt.
“Miss, it was an honor to meet you. Please take care of yourself and recover quickly,” Oliver said on behalf of them.
Arlen glanced at them for a moment, and for the first time in a long while, managed to move her stiff facial muscles and force a smile.
It felt awkward, her face stiff and strained, but she tried her best.
Agen recognized that smile immediately.
It was the expression that said, “Don’t worry, I’m okay,” fragile, incomplete, yet hanging delicately on her lips.
