Even if Your Regret Holds Me Back - Chapter 63

“If it had been my elder brother, it would have tasted good and he would have swallowed it. What a pity, huh?”

Heidi answered slowly, glaring fiercely at the space beyond the screen, not at Ian.

The raised end of her words was directed at someone over there. The image of Lady Zimmer standing upright to receive him automatically came to mind.

“Don’t take it out on Lady Zimmer unnecessarily, I’m the one who asked.”

“There’s really nothing worth asking about.”

“Your body.”

Though the question ‘Are you okay?’ wasn’t directly asked, Heidi picked up on it.

“I didn’t eat much. Just about one-hundredth of a sip? Either that Belze guy has gotten old or lost his touch. I could tell as soon as it touched my tongue.”

Heidi shook a whiskey bottle from the drawer as if to show she couldn’t be any more fine.

Lady Zimmer’s voice was briefly heard nearby, exclaiming “Your Highness!” in shock. Heidi handed her the empty bottle and changed the subject.

“By the way, why didn’t Dion attend?”

Heidi’s gaze lingered briefly on the still silent communication device. Ian’s lips stretched slightly as he looked at her.

“There are many others, yet you specifically ask about Dion.”

“…What about it.”

“Do you miss him?”

“…What’s with that look? I just asked because it feels strange without the noise, geez. You don’t know how much Sir Cedric usually bothers me, do you? It’s because my elder brother completely ignores him. Receive him a bit more cutely, no, receive him out of pity.”

Her grumbling voice continued on and on. Ian stood up, turning his back to her as he replied.

“Seeing that Elai is also absent, it seems that guy took him and left.”

Heidi let out a small gasp of realization. Well, Elai Penhaugen was certainly capable of such things and more.

“He lasted longer than usual for Elai. We might see him soon, elder brother.”

Heidi giggled. Ian exhaled an annoyed breath and told Lady Zimmer to check the corner of the third shelf of the bookcase and behind the magic tool display case.

The screen disappeared with a flicker as Heidi suddenly stood up and cried out.

“No!”

The room finally became as quiet as befitting a holiday night. Ian took out a new ink bottle from the drawer and placed it on the table, along with a bottle of whiskey that Heidi would have had confiscated by Lady Zimmer by now.

As Ian wiped off excess ink from the pen nib on the bottle mouth, Sakin poured whiskey into a glass. Then he pulled out the chair opposite and sat down, rambling on about various things.

The trivial conversation flowed on, changing from moment to moment. It continued until Ian’s glass, which he had been sipping from, was completely empty.

But Sakin kept moving his lips busily as he tilted the whiskey bottle to refill the empty glass.

“Did you see Mr. Plam’s eye patch today? Lily had scribbled on it, making it look like Mr. Plam had both eyes open.”

“Yes, many were struggling to hold back their laughter.”

Ian answered half-heartedly while making X marks here and there on the map of Instantia. It was already the 6th question he had received.

If this was going to be the last one, he was going to let it slide. But Sakin didn’t stop and brought up a 7th topic.

“I had a hard time holding back too. …By the way, have you ever been to the lake in the safe zone forest behind the guild?”

“…”

“Everyone recommends going before it freezes over completely, saying the night lake view is spectacular. Sometime, with the young lady-”

“Sakin.”

“Yes, sir?”

Ian finally put down his pen. Sakin stood up, straightening his already stiff back even more.

Ian muttered, keeping his eyes fixed on the map.

“If you have something to say, just say it. You’ll end up back where you started no matter how much you beat around the bush.”

“…I tried my best, feels a bit unfair to hear that.”

“Try harder next time then. So what’s your business?”

Sakin hesitated, pursing and unpursing his lips repeatedly. When Ian made a small sound to urge him on, he sheepishly confessed.

“It’s nothing much, actually… I didn’t think you would get angry, my lord.”

“…What?”

Only then did Ian raise his head. Meeting his eyes, Sakin spoke as if reading from a book.

“Just, you always smile no matter what the young lady says.”

Ian opened his mouth, not particularly having anything to say in response. At that moment, Plam’s voice calling for Sakin conveniently cut through.

“Doggy~ Where are you~”

Sakin’s tail-like hair immediately turned in that direction.

“Ah, I’ll be going now. I have a request that needs to be processed by today.”

With a deep bow as usual, he disappeared busily. Ian was left speechless in the empty space.

A moment later, he picked up his pen again and dipped it in ink, but his thoughts drifted elsewhere. Even when he managed to focus on his work, it didn’t last long before returning to the same place.

At this point, Ian couldn’t help but recall the essence of the problem.

‘Why did I get angry in the first place?’

Was it even something to get so angry about to begin with?

Would he have gotten so angry if that guild member had assumed there was nothing between him and Sakin?

Would it have been the same if he had shown interest in other women he knew?

No. Probably not. Maybe-.

‘I got angry because it was Helena.’

Having finally reached an answer, Ian’s contemplation now entered its second phase. Why had he been so enraged because it was Helena?

From the beginning, it was affection he had decided to pour out alone regardless of how she viewed him. It was affection that started with the intention of saving her first, whether she hated or resented him.

So it shouldn’t have mattered. It really shouldn’t have…

It shouldn’t… shouldn’t matter…

‘…No. It does matter.’

With this realization, strength entered his hand. The pen nib pressed hard onto the paper. Ink began to spread around it. Like someone’s lingering image, deeply soaked in before he could even realize it.

The presence that had already taken root began to spread deeply. Ian received her with a gasp.

‘Helena.’

But it was too overwhelming to contain just in his mind. He tried saying it out loud again.

“Helena.”

Still feeling something lacking, he muttered once more.

“Helena… Fevernheim.”

This time, his surname was unconsciously attached.

Surprised at his own words, Ian covered his mouth with his hand. He couldn’t believe what he had just said.

‘I’ve gone mad.’

He really must have gone mad.

What had he dared to start hoping for?

[This is the timeline separator]

It was an unusually windy day. The strong winds that had started yesterday were blowing so fiercely they seemed about to tear off the windows, to the extent that Plam was going around to each lodging to make repairs.

Gelda placed a warm hibiscus tea in front of Helena and turned her head towards the window.

“It looks like quite a typhoon will be passing through. We should be especially careful for the time being. Dairon is in a low-lying area, so once there’s a flood, there’s no solution.”

“I heard this happens every year. Why don’t you try requesting the lord to prepare countermeasures?”

It was the most basic solution, but Gelda snorted loudly.

“As if that greedy pig would do anything. He wouldn’t bat an eye even if every house was washed away.”

It was quite a scathing criticism for describing the ruler of Dairon.

Gelda’s expression, which was openly revealed, was saying even worse things. Helena could roughly guess what kind of person the lord was.

‘Well… They don’t even use taxes for monster subjugation.’

What the old man had told her when she first set foot in Dairon was right. Monster subjugation was entirely carried out autonomously through cooperation between the guild and villagers.

Moreover, Dairon collected higher taxes compared to other regions. Of course, the lord didn’t even properly provide the minimum protection commensurate with that.

But even considering such greedy nature, Gelda always harbored particular venom whenever the topic of him came up. As if there was something more beyond that.

‘They seem to know each other…’

Wheeee- Crash!

Suddenly, the wind and rain broke through the window. The momentarily drowsy atmosphere was shattered along with the glass shards.

Gelda immediately stood up and quickly reached out to pull Helena into her arms. It was a reflexive action without any calculation.

For someone who always said to only look out for yourself, that in this world being selfish is altruistic, always speaking coldly, it was quite an affectionate act.

Helena felt the leather texture of Gelda’s arm guard above her head. Perhaps because of its sturdiness, such thoughts came to her even as she huddled in the midst of glass fragments raining down like water.

Only when the sound of glass hitting the floor stopped could Helena break away from Gelda’s chest.

The tiny fragments that had been caught between their bodies clinked as they fell again. Just as she was looking around for something to clean up with, Gelda pulled her to a corner.

“Don’t move, you’ll only make things worse if you get hurt. I had Angry do something earlier, so he’ll be here soon.”

We can have him clean up.

Though she didn’t actually add those words, somehow it felt like she had heard them. And that feeling manifested before her eyes not long after.

Angry, who appeared grunting while carrying a large sack of potatoes on his back, was caught by Gelda as soon as he set foot in the dining hall.

“To use a high-class workforce like me for such menial tasks!”

“Stop complaining and just sweep. I can’t sweep you away, can I?”

“Hmph.”

Helena turned her head away from the bearded man’s childish whining. …It was a bit hard to watch.

Gelda, who had turned her back completely, shook off the remaining fragments from her clothes as if they were unmelted snow.

Meanwhile, the whip-like wind rushed in again through the broken window. Gelda, who took a direct hit from it, muttered.

“…Looks like this won’t end as quietly as we thought.”

It was a much darker face, without even a hint of joking.

As she left the dining hall, she tore off an outdated calendar hanging on the wall. The crumpled paper fell in front of Angry, who was cleaning the floor.

“Clean it thoroughly, I’ll come check later. If I step on even one piece of glass, I’ll walk all over you, understand?”

As soon as the door closed, Angry let out a small grumble.

Behind him, Helena stood staring intently at the calendar. She couldn’t take her eyes off the bold letters at the top.

Casius Year 125.

A flash of lightning struck in her mind.

‘The worst typhoon recorded in history.’