As soon as the door of a room in Havertz Castle opened, Benjamin’s eyes caught Beressa’s perplexed expression.

Benjamin, who was receiving treatment with his upper body exposed, stained with blood, wounds, and scars, showed composure by smiling and raising his hand, but Beressa, watching this, couldn’t help but feel bewildered.

It was already unusual that a man who should have been in the capital had returned here, but for that man to have come alone, covered in blood.

No matter how positively she tried to think about it, it was impossible.

Beressa forcefully pushed away the ominous feelings rising in her mind.

Hearing the whispering sounds from behind, Beressa rolled her eyes and approached Benjamin with a sigh as she closed the door.

“You look surprised.”

“Let me express it more accurately. I’m shocked.”

At his nonchalant tone, Beressa bit her lip and sighed.

The doctor’s hands were busy tending to the wounds. The injuries didn’t seem to be that simple.

There was a stab wound on the shoulder and a slash on the forearm. There were also numerous scratches elsewhere.

It was certain that these weren’t wounds from an ordinary fight.

“What happened?”

As if telling him not to brush it off, Benjamin rolled his eyes at the doctor’s firm tone and voice.

After the doctor who was wrapping a bandage around his treated forearm bowed his head at the glance, he handed over the bandage and went outside.

As the door opened and closed, leaving only the two of them in the room, Benjamin began wrapping the remaining bandage around his forearm with tired eyes.

“I was attacked.”

“Attacked…? In the capital?”

At her incredulous tone, Benjamin let out a chuckle.

“Public opinion in the capital is at its worst. They argue that everyone involved with us should be ostracized and driven out. Some extremists are actually attacking the Khan people and those who deal with them.”

“Then those wounds too?”

Benjamin nodded with tired eyes.

As Beressa, dejected by the answer, ran her hand through her hair, Benjamin, who had finished wrapping the bandage, pulled at his lips.

“I was attacked while leaving work. I quickly fled to the mansion, but my father-in-law had locked the door.”

“What do you mean…?”

“It’s probably to protect the family, his daughter, and the other family members. Since even being involved with the Khan people leads to attacks, it seems he’s drawn a line.”

The more she heard, Beressa’s face reddened with anger that was now beyond bewilderment.

With a face that looked like it might explode at any moment, Beressa snatched the bandage from Benjamin’s hand roughly.

“And you’re just saying this now? What about Melena? Did your wife accept this too?”

“My wife doesn’t have the power to defy her father either. No matter how much of a retired old man he is, my father-in-law is still the rightful head of the family.”

“My goodness. Even so…!”

“Don’t be too harsh. It was Melena who secretly provided money, food, and a horse so I could safely get here. Thanks to her giving me her horse and telling me to escape carefully, I was able to flee this far. If it weren’t for that, I probably would have been beaten to death on the street.”

Benjamin laughed calmly, but Beressa, whose anger had not subsided, stared at him intently before sighing.

Beressa, who had taken the bandage and was tying a tight knot, shifted her gaze to the window.

In the distance, she could see several horses galloping towards them.

Judging by the different flags on the horses, they were messengers sent by the heads of various clans and families.

“How fortunate. Didn’t I tell you not to marry Melena? I said you’d end up being betrayed when something important happens. You laughed it off then, saying it would be fine, but look at this now.”

“I told you not to be too harsh.”

“You’re still taking your wife’s side even now. What a devoted husband.”

“Ow! That’s too tight!”

Beressa grimaced as she tied the knot tightly, causing Benjamin to cry out.

At that sight, Beressa dropped her lips crookedly and took two steps back to create distance. Benjamin, who was whining while rubbing his forearm, also glanced out the window.

“How many soldiers have gathered?”

“Eight thousand.”

“Not nearly enough.”

The number of central troops currently organized around the imperial family alone was 40,000. Considering additional troops, it would easily be 50,000.

Unless they were engaging in cavalry battles on an open plateau, it was woefully insufficient just for defending the gates.

“A declaration of war will come soon. No, it’s safe to say it’s already been made. The order to march out will come along with the declaration of war, and from then on, the war will be irreversible. We need more soldiers.”

“They’re still gathering, so the numbers will increase soon. We’re looking at about 10,000.”

That’s a lot. Benjamin swallowed a self-deprecating sneer and sighed.

To think there was nothing he could do in this situation. As he dropped his tired eyes to the floor, a deep silence fell.

“What about Aden?”

But it didn’t last long. At the quiet question, Beressa didn’t continue her answer.

Though wordless, it seemed sufficient as Benjamin let out a deep sigh.

“You must be tired from coming here. Rest for now. We’ll talk in detail later.”

Turning around, Beressa left the room after leaving those final words.

Benjamin silently watched the closing door before turning his dry eyes to gaze into the distance. To that far-off place where his friend awaited death.

Ludmila, who had barely touched her meal, followed Aden out to the backyard.

As she approached, a clattering sound followed by a dull thud rang out.

When she opened the closed back door, Aden was kneeling on one knee in front of the fence, hammering away.

Aden, who was rebuilding the old and collapsed fence, seemed familiar with this situation as he skillfully went about his work.

The unsightly leaning fence was once again standing tall, and the old parts were pushed aside.

Under the golden light cast by the just-rising sun, Aden continued his work.

Ludmila, who had been silently watching, leaned askew against the doorframe.

The scene was very peaceful, with the chirping of morning birds and the regular sound of hammering.

The sunlight that had been pouring down on Aden slowly moved to where Ludmila was standing.

As she quietly gazed at the picturesque scene in the flow of passing time, Ludmila suddenly thought of a painting.

A secluded villa with trees and a flowing river. Herself and Aden looking at that scenery. Maybe even a child that might have been born.

This is probably what such a life would be like. Aden would become a good husband, a good father, blending into everyday life, and she too would be immersed in that life.

Living like that, they would gradually age, and the child would grow up and play around.

By then, they would surely be able to ride horses together across the plains. Whether it was a daughter or a son, if they took after Aden, they would certainly be good at horseback riding.

“…”

What awakened Ludmila from her peaceful and serene imagination as she gazed at the scene before her was the sunlight slightly covering her eyes.

The rapidly approaching sunlight had already reached her face.

Only then coming to her senses, Ludmila bit her lip gently.

By now, Aden, having finished setting up the fence, picked up an axe, seemingly intending to chop the logs piled beside him to fill in the lacking wood.

“I noticed there’s not much firewood, is it okay if I chop all of this?”

Aden asked, turning to Ludmila as he placed a log on the tree stump.

Ludmila, who had been lost in the illusion of normalcy and everyday life that this ordinary scene brought, closed her eyes and opened them again, gradually erasing the misconception.

“Stop it. We have to leave tomorrow, there’s no need to overexert yourself like this. Just rest comfortably.”

“I’m getting antsy just sitting still. I’ll just do this.”

“It’s fine.”

“We’re short on firewood anyway, so…”

“Aden!”

It was Ludmila’s quiet voice that cut off Aden’s words as he was speaking with a smile.

Aden, who had opened his eyes wide, lowered the raised axe.

Ludmila, who had been silently watching him narrow his eyes, let out a soft sigh.

“Do as I did.”

Recalling how she had disappeared so quietly that no one would have known she was here, Ludmila gave Aden a pained smile.

“Don’t leave any traces. Leave in a way that as I go on living, I might forget that you were ever here… That’s how I want you to go. I don’t want to think of you, Aden, when I look at that fence, or when I burn firewood in the depths of winter.”

Like a flower that blooms in midwinter and withers in late summer. She didn’t want to live a life endlessly waiting for the day they might meet again.

So, she no longer needed the traces of him that would remain here.

“So, please stop.”

With those final words, Ludmila turned and entered the house.

As the bleak interior of the house came into view instead of the beautiful sunlight and scenery that had filled her eyes, the illusion finally shattered and reality set in.

Aden is leaving this place. And she would long for him.

And this house had been filled with memories of him over the past few days.

Ludmila’s steps, as she was weakly walking back to her room, stopped in front of the dining table.

Silently looking down at the now cold dishes, Ludmila slowly picked up a fork.

She lifted a well-grilled green pepper to her mouth, but ultimately couldn’t put it in and lowered it again.

There’s no need to leave more memories with him.

With a clattering sound, Ludmila put the fork down on the plate and quietly stepped on the stairs.

The creaking sound gradually faded away and then stopped abruptly. The quiet kitchen where nothing remained.

The only thing that visited that place where the two had stayed was the long sunlight piercing through the window.