“I like horses.”

On a leisurely afternoon, Ian said while stroking the horse’s mane with his hand.

Helena was beside him, trying to bond with her own horse following his lead. Her touch was gentle, but her face was not.

It was an hour ago when she had eagerly followed Ian after he offered to teach her how to ride. Since then, he had first handed her a bundle of hay, saying she needed to befriend the horse first.

And various such antics disguised as education had continued until now. It was clear that his recent statement was just another one of those, but Helena reluctantly asked anyway.

“Why do you like them?”

Her face showed no curiosity at all. Of course, Ian answered without minding.

“Because when riding a horse, you won’t complain even if I hold your waist.”

He ignored the daggers Helena was shooting with her eyes and placed the saddle on the horse’s back.

Soon, Helena also placed the brown leather saddle and tied the knots as he had taught her.

“…Pervert.”

Ian let out a dry laugh at her muttered words.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard that in my life.”

“Lecher.”

“Ah, that one stings a bit.”

“Shameless.”

“Let’s stop here. If we continue, I might cry.”

Ian, who had somehow approached behind Helena, grabbed her waist and lifted her onto the saddle.

Although this had happened several times already, Helena still let out a startled exclamation.

As if that sound was a pleasant musical performance, the smile on Ian’s lips remained undiminished throughout.

Helena grumbled quietly.

“If I didn’t know you, I might have at least pretended to believe you.”

“I’d be grateful if you did that even knowing me.”

Ian also mounted another horse. Sticking close to Helena’s side, he held a rein in each hand and gently pulled.

Following his guidance, the horses slowly moved towards the fenced field.

Feeling the small vibrations of up and down movement, Ian glanced at Helena.

“By the way, it might be a prejudice, but considering your swordsmanship skills, I thought you’d be good at horse riding too.”

Helena’s hand, which had been carefully brushing the mane, stopped. She raised her head, met Ian’s eyes once, then lowered it again and continued brushing.

“You’re right. Why… didn’t I think of learning horseback riding?”

Was it because she had nowhere to go, or because she thought she would never leave Evergale anyway?

She was no different from a horse tied to its reins. She had just run as Yujin pulled, gasping with thirst until she was withered and twisted.

Helena finally looked down at the reins she now held in her own hands.

“It’s not difficult. If you guide it gently in the direction you want to go, it will go on its own. Don’t worry about the speed for now, I’ll control it from the side.”

His voice, suddenly interjecting, cleared her mind from deep contemplation.

Helena repeated his words as if talking to herself and gripped the reins more firmly.

“It’s not difficult.”

The cheerful sound of horse hooves quickly brushed through the reeds that came up to their knees.

Contrary to the original plan to stay only in the guild’s courtyard, the two were now galloping unrestrainedly.

Ian followed closely behind Helena, who was leading ahead. In response, Helena increased her speed a little more.

She’s excited. After letting out a small laugh, Ian urged his horse to go even faster and blocked her path.

“Are you sure this is really your first time riding?”

Grass kicked up by the horse hooves flew, and a small neigh from the horse passed by.

Helena quite skillfully pulled on the reins to stop the horse. Her red hair, drenched in the sunset glow, fluttered and settled back into place.

Her flushed cheeks shone. She spoke between heavy breaths.

“I guess I picked it up quickly thanks to riding with you so much.”

“Is it fun?”

“Yes.”

Helena took a deep breath, her chest swelling as if she was about to gallop again.

However, Ian was firm.

“Still, let’s head back now. If we overdo it, you won’t be able to get up at all tomorrow.”

Ian soothed his horse, whose ears were perking up, and turned around. Helena, now in a position of being dragged along, had a clearly disappointed look on her face.

“Can’t we go around just one more time?”

“Your bottom and thighs must be really hurting right now.”

“I’m fine.”

Helena answered, cutting off Ian’s words. As if she wouldn’t be trusted if she didn’t answer immediately.

Ian’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her.

“…Do you know that you rub your thumb with your index finger when you’re being needlessly stubborn?”

“When did you become so interested in me?”

“I think I always have been. It will continue to increase from now on, so get used to it.”

With a faint smile, this time Ian went ahead. His silver hair gleamed, covered by the sunset glow.

Helena pressed her thumb harder with her finger as she watched his back, stretching evenly to the left and right.

‘How much more used to it should I get?’

Shwaaa-.

The early winter wind swept across the vast reed field. The reeds swayed in the wind, making a cool rain-like sound.

Helena stopped in place and looked up at the sky. She kept her head tilted like that until her heated cheeks cooled in the cold.

A vast wheat field under a cloudless blue sky. And you and me standing on the golden waves.

Everything was dazzling. Even the air piercing her throat was clear.

The world that she had always thought was lonely seemed to have turned upside down. The world she stood on was the same as before, yet it wasn’t.

While she was immersed in the scene spread out like a painting, he turned his horse’s head slightly and called out freshly.

“Shall we bet on who arrives first?”

Helena absently rubbed her lower abdomen with the hand not holding the reins.

The tip of her nose, sniffling due to the cold wind, was red. Winter was coming.

And yet, why…

‘When I’m by your side, it feels like a thousand springs are brushing through my insides.’

Helena kept that ticklish feeling as she calmly rode her horse to Ian’s side.

“Have you thought about what to bet?”

“Hmm…”

Ian fell into quite serious contemplation. Meanwhile, Helena, who had tightly wrapped the reins around her hand, kicked the horse’s side.

Leaving behind Ian’s voice shouting “foul,” Helena galloped again.

By the time they returned to the guild, a drinking party was in full swing.

The merry keyboard sound of a hurdy-gurdy and the melody of a folk guitar harmonized with the rhythm of beating rum barrels.

The first to greet Helena as she entered, lifting the curtain, was not the usual Angry but a minstrel. He unexpectedly had a knack for playing instruments.

Angry twirled around Helena with nimble feet as if dancing. Meanwhile, his hands never stopped plucking the rough guitar strings.

“You’re late! Sit down quickly!”

Along with the boisterous noise, the music grew even thicker.

Helena was pushed along with Ian to sit at a corner table. As if planned, there were two empty seats.

At the central table, Gelda and Plam were already in full swing.

“Drink moderately. Have some pity on your liver.”

“My back that you just hit hurts more than my liver. Have some pity on this old body that’s barely washing away the day’s fatigue with just a few glasses of rum.”

“Just a few glasses? At least make your excuses more sincere. Are your glasses oak barrels?”

Gelda left another palm print on Plam’s back. Helena felt like laughing for some reason and turned her head away.

Meanwhile, cold ale beer was placed on the table.

Seeing the yellow surface with foam rising, her thirst suddenly surged. Helena quenched her parched mouth with the cool liquid in one gulp.

As she was encouraged to do so, the glass quickly emptied. Befitting a long-awaited feast, the empty glass was immediately replaced with a new one, and Helena, caught up in the atmosphere, continued to drink.

As she reached for the third glass, the previously stationary glass moved.

‘Huh…?’

Helena blinked her slightly heavy eyelids slowly and tried to grasp the glass handle again. But the glass eluded her as if teasing.

“…What’s this?”

A laugh that pierced through the noise fell on her head as she exhaled a heated breath.

“You’re drunk.”

“Mm- I’m fine.”

“Then I’ll stay still, so try to grab this.”

Ian stuck his elbow to the table and raised only his thumb with a clenched fist. As if daring her to grab it if she could, he wiggled his thumb, and Helena reached out without hesitation.

However, what she grasped in her hand was only the ripe air.

Ian’s low laughter deepened.

She grumbled quietly and leaned her upper body forward. The purple eyes came close right in front of her nose. For some reason, the loud music seemed to have diminished.

Just as she was confident she could easily grab it at this distance.

“Ouch.”

She felt a dull pain on her forehead. He offered to let her grab it, so why did he flick his finger?

Helena rubbed her furrowed brow and raised her eyelashes covering her eyes. He was looking at her.

She thought he would have quite a mischievous expression. But it was somewhat ambiguous for that.

“Wait a moment.”

He leaned back suddenly and stood up from his seat. The music that had seemed to diminish returned to normal.

Helena turned her gaze, which had followed Ian’s rising height, to the hall. She immediately met eyes with Angry.

He had a somewhat regretful face. In fact, everyone else had similar expressions. A few could be seen letting out small sighs. Even Lily, who was sipping orange juice next to Plam, was the same.

‘What’s this…?’

As Helena was blankly releasing her heated breath along with her question, Ian approached her again. In his hand was a small wooden cup instead of rum.

As soon as the wooden cup made a ‘tak’ sound hitting the table, a sweet chocolate smell wafted strongly.

“You like sweet things, don’t you?”

Helena didn’t reject the cocoa pushed in front of her and cupped it with both hands.

“How did you know that too? Did Sakin tell you?”

“Do I look like someone who would know that from hearing it from someone else?”

“…No.”

Helena fiddled with her fingers covering the cup. It was warm.

As she stirred the thick fudge chocolate with a teaspoon, she felt her insides tickle again.

‘What should I call this?’

It was strange to keep accepting this unnamed feeling every time. So Helena finally decided to name the vague sensation she felt whenever she faced him.

Too weak to be called a spark, yet not fading enough to be dismissed as mere friction,

Warmth.

Not so hot that it would burn at the touch, nor so faint that it would feel ambiguous, but a gentle warmth.

He was exactly that temperature to her.

He had to be.