A faint warmth lingered as Ian’s hand left her.

Helena bit her lower lip. The simple words ‘live’ stirred her mind. She felt as lost as a child who had strayed from the path.

Do I want to live?

No.

Then, do I want to die?

…No.

The urge to die wasn’t as overpowering as before. Nor did she have a burning desire to live.

‘Just, just…’

Somewhere, the regular ticking of a clock sounded like a heartbeat. Helena quietly placed her hand on her heart.

She felt the same sensation she had on the street before. It was a disgustingly sticky feeling.

But now, it was different. There was no longer a feeling of repulsion. That was all.

Ian didn’t press for an answer, and so she didn’t give one.

‘Will there come a day when I can answer this even after parting with you?’

Will she be able to make a clear choice then? Be certain of herself?

These thoughts didn’t last long. For her, who didn’t even put tomorrow in her future, it was quite a luxury.

Instead, Helena gazed at Ian for a long time, as if caressing him with her eyes.

His strong face remained unchanged, but there was a new flaw. A wound she had inadvertently caused him during a nightmare.

“…I’m sorry.”

Helena slowly brought her hand to his lips.

Carefully stroking the torn area, Ian tensed his body. His muscles tightened visibly as he was only wearing a towel over his shoulders.

‘Did I stroke too hard?’

Helena hurriedly rummaged through the bedside drawer. The contents were scant, so the ointment she was looking for appeared right away. It was the same ointment Ian had bought for her wound.

She applied the ointment to his injured lips, as he had done for her. He tensed even more when her fingers touched him.

“It hurts a lot, doesn’t it?”

“…No.”

Ian averted his eyes. Helena applied the ointment more carefully, fearing he might be in pain. Finally, as she closed the lid of the ointment, he let out a restrained breath.

Helena checked his body for more injuries. It was easier since he wasn’t wearing clothes.

As she focused on his neck and ribs, she saw a long mark under his chest, naturally following a slightly thicker spine shape, extending to his back.

Ian tried to cover it up, but her faster hands pushed the towel away.

‘…!’

Helena involuntarily gasped at the sight of his broad back.

The back she always thought of as a thick iron wall was covered in scars. It looked as if every weapon in the world had left a mark.

She traced these scars with her fingers, not just as simple scars, but as if they were a path.

‘The path of this seemingly complete man… perhaps every moment…’

For the first time, Helena found herself thinking about the life of a man other than Eugene.

It was strange. She was increasingly doing things for the first time with this man.

Meanwhile, Ian let out a resigned sigh. Then, as usual, he donned a playful mask and responded.

“Are you finally taking an interest in me?”

“What can I do when it’s right in front of me?”

“You could pretend not to see, as it’s more comfortable that way.”
“I find that more… uncomfortable. Pretending about everything is exhausting.”

“Then do as you feel comfortable.”

With that, Ian got up from the bed and approached the door. Just as he opened it, the innkeeper, about to knock, jumped in surprise.

After tipping her and receiving his laundry, Ian finally dressed properly. He then lay back on the floor as if it were a bed, looking quite comfortable as if he was on a plush mattress.

Ian, with one knee bent and his ankle resting on it, began to read the newspaper the innkeeper had placed on top of the laundry.

Helena, watching him lying on the floor, blurted out, “Come up and sleep here. I’m going to take a shower.”

Ian slightly lowered the newspaper and locked eyes with her.

“Are you serious? Once I get up there, I won’t budge.”

“Just for tonight.”

“Then I am quite thankful for that bug.”

He folded the newspaper, smiling slightly as he got up.

The two-person bed sagged again.

“I saw her in Futua. I met her walking along the beach, but I’m not sure if she’s still there. But you should go. She loved the beach, so she might still be there.”

Eugene remembered the boy’s words as he drove his horse frantically. His breath reached the tip of his chin, but he didn’t stop.

Upon arriving at the beach of Futua, he entered the shop closest to the shore.

His imposing presence drew everyone’s attention. Unperturbed, he described her appearance and inquired about her whereabouts. However, everyone just shook their heads, offering no answers.

Eugene stepped outside, feeling frustrated. His knights returned from their search with no significant information.

Had she already left, or was she on the opposite coast?

He realized the need to calm his hasty thoughts and reevaluate their search strategy. Eugene took out a cigar and brought the cutter to its tip.

Just as he was about to cut it, a man lying in a corner of the street staggered to his feet.

“Sir, it seems you’re looking for someone. If you give this poor man a penny, I can help you.”