To The Eternal Knight (2 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 5
Feeling her lips go dry, Nerea lifted the corner of her mouth. She could sense those dark eyes gazing at her, brimming with unreadable anticipation.
“I happened to need this. Thank you.”
“I’m glad. Then please have sweet dreams, Sir Knight.”
It was a remark brimming with transparent joy. Though the title tacked onto that gentle farewell pricked Nerea like a thorn, she found herself utterly unable to utter a single word in response to what followed.
“For ten long years when I couldn’t see you, I’d always wanted to say this: sleep well.”
.
.
.
A dark room.
Seated on the bed in a space lit only by the faint glow of a nightlight, Nerea stared at the door through which Alejandro had just left. Heather’s voice suddenly echoed in her mind.
“In Esteban territory, it was a widely spread rumor. They said the second son of Baron Zenax left home and was beaten to death on the streets. Ever since then, the baron and his wife reportedly locked the mansion gates, allowing no one inside, and began treating the day their second young master left as if it were his death anniversary. It was even said that Lord Zenax himself found it difficult to enter the estate.”
“…When exactly did he leave home?”
“It was—shortly after you left House Esteban, my lady.”
If it happened shortly after she’d left House Esteban, then Alejandro had been only thirteen years old.
Thirteen—a frail, tear-streaked boy begging her to take him with her.
Bang—. She slammed her palm onto the nightstand, and a dull ache shot up her arm. It was a foolish thing she’d never normally do, yet instead of regret, Nerea bit down hard on her lip.
Her boiling rage sharpened into a point, piercing her from within.
But then—whom could she blame? She herself had chosen this path, closing her ears and shutting her eyes.
“This time it was Baron Zenax’s leg, but who might it be next? Ah, didn’t you say that foolish child who follows you around fell ill in bed? They say he might even go blind from the fever if he isn’t careful.”
When her stepmother Helen spoke those words, her father stood silently behind her.
Even as Helen brazenly revealed that he himself was the one who had crippled Baron Zenax—the very man who had served House Esteban faithfully, even before her mother’s time—her father remained unmoved.
From that moment on, Gabe was no longer the father Nerea had once loved.
Foolishly, she bitterly regretted every moment she’d ever trusted him.
Then again, how could she have placed such unwavering faith in a man who’d given his daughter such a ridiculous name?
A hollow laugh escaped her lips, and Nerea’s watery eyes turned icy cold.
Yet, five years ago, it was Johann Zenax who’d sent Heather to this house. That must mean House Zenax remained loyal vassals to House Esteban even now.
After all, Sir Moore—the retainer who’d harmed Baron Zenax—had been banished; from Johann’s ignorant perspective, such loyalty made perfect sense.
But that man, who loved his family and younger brother to the point of tears, surely wouldn’t have willingly cast out his thirteen-year-old brother.
Then why had Alejandro left his family at thirteen? And why had he severed all contact, to the point rumors claimed he was dead?
Amidst these tangled questions, one thought burned in her mind above all others:
Why—why had that child come looking for her?
Her heart throbbed painfully. Alejandro had appeared with an unaffected expression, smiling the same old smile she remembered, handing her the nightlight just as he used to.
“Um, Sir Knight. If you’re scared of the dark, please turn this on. Press here—it lights up, so nighttime won’t feel so frightening.”
Just who was frightened? She kept recalling that determined little voice, trying so earnestly to comfort her, even as his plump arms trembled uncontrollably with fear.
Sleep wouldn’t come. Nerea tossed and turned restlessly, until at some point she found herself gazing out the window. A single star twinkled in the fathomless night sky.
Alejandro—the guardian of that first star.
It was just like that night long ago, when she’d searched for the most precious name to give him.
Slowly, Nerea closed her eyes. In the pitch black, a familiar voice floated to her ears.
[This is the timeline separator]“My little Countess. Shall we visit the Lord’s chamber again today?”
Shield of Castarti. House Esteban.
Nerea, eldest daughter of the distinguished knight and Countess Lilian Esteban, had been surrounded by the finest things from the moment of her birth.
Gleaming gold and jewels—and above all, radiant love and affection beyond compare.
Of all these treasures, Nerea’s favorite pastime was visiting the “Lord’s chamber” with her mother.
Whenever they stood in the room lined with ancestral portraits, her mother would tell stories of their forebears in a voice as warm as sunlight.
Each time Nerea heard tales of ancestors who’d taken up swords to defend their country and protect those they loved, she always wondered:
How fiercely must one love someone to step onto such a terrifying battlefield? That curiosity sank even deeper within her after her mother’s next words:
“Once you’ve grown up, your portrait will hang here too.”
“Mine?”
Three-year-old Nerea tilted her head in puzzlement.
Among those dignified elders clad in dull armor and holding swords, her only common traits with them seemed to be her fiery red hair and watery eyes.
Then her mother would hug her tightly and beam.
Whenever wrapped in that rock-solid embrace, Nerea would take deep breaths, savoring her mother’s scent—
a faint earthy aroma, a sharp medicinal tang, and above all, a gentle warmth that harmonized it all.
“Yes, my little Countess. The strongest and loveliest jewel in all the world. This Esteban shall belong to you and you alone.”
Nerea loved her mother.
Even when her mother’s brilliant red hair faded to white,
even when the bitter smell of medicine grew stronger—
even when that once unshakable body withered away, never to rise again.
It was winter, when Nerea turned four. The grand funeral lasted all week. Beneath the ashen sky, she held only her father’s hand.
Unlike her mother’s rough and calloused grip, her father’s hand was smooth, marked only by a few hardened patches.
Always busy yet thoughtful, her father later claimed that his grief had simply been too overwhelming to remember to hold her.
Perhaps the maids’ consolations were right.
After all, during the funeral, he often forgot to tend to little Nerea—even letting her overhear every careless word the attending nobles carelessly tossed about.
“The Lord was frail, but did anyone expect her to pass so soon?”
“They said her body was already ruined from the war with Gauwe. How could she possibly endure childbirth on top of that?”
“At any rate, the Count’s widower hit the jackpot. He was merely from a cadet branch—and now he’s even inherited the title through marriage.”
“Haven’t you heard the rumor? The late Countess supposedly sealed it in her will: the title must pass exclusively to her daughter. The widower’s role would be limited to mere guardianship.”
Those hushed, complex words settled strangely in a corner of Nerea’s heart.
Whenever unease rippled through her, as if something dreadful were about to happen, she searched for her father—but he never once reached for her hand.
Then, the day after the funeral ended,
“Say hello, Nerea. Helen will assist our house from now on.”
The first act her father took as Acting Count was to bring in a woman—Helen, her mother’s former maid, along with Helen’s daughter Brienna.
Standing beside Helen and Brienna as he introduced them, her father did something even a child like Nerea found deeply strange.
Predictably, the household retainers erupted in protest upon seeing Helen, once merely a lady-in-waiting to the late Countess, and her fatherless daughter Brienna.
“How can Lady Tylerbury—a mere former maid of the late Countess with no husband and only a daughter—possibly assist in managing our noble house?”
The mocking remarks were sharp. Nerea looked anxiously between her father and the retainers.
Not a single one of those towering adults paid her any attention. Just as the furious clamor shook the entire hall,
it was Helen—her mother’s former maid—who covered Nerea’s ears amid the chaos, and her daughter Brienna who took Nerea’s hand.
Ever-kind Helen gently soothed her, lips trembling as she insisted everything was alright. Brienna, her age, simply nodded with tear-filled blue eyes. In an instant, they slipped deep into Nerea’s heart.
The warmth she’d lost throughout the funeral now tenderly wrapped around her once more. At last, Nerea broke into tears.
Her father, who’d been silent, and the retainers, who’d been pressing him—all simply watched her, as if only now noticing she existed.
From that day on, Helen became Nerea’s nursemaid and moved into the manor.
But it was also from then that the ever-kind Helen began to change in subtle, unsettling ways.
“Oh. That’s my dress.”
When Nerea entered the playroom after finishing her lessons, Brienna was already wearing her pink dress. Helen gave a light laugh.
“It’s far too small for you now anyway, my lady.”
Ah, until then, Nerea hadn’t minded such things. But when Brienna fingered the dress sleeve while staring at her, Nerea felt a chill run down her spine.
Brienna’s blue eyes—once as lovely as pearls—now glittered strangely with desire.
Yet in the next instant, Brienna widened her eyes innocently and smiled meekly, so Nerea convinced herself she must have imagined it.
From that day forward, Nerea found herself sharing everything she owned with Brienna.
Dresses, shoes, dazzling jewelry, lessons meant only for her, even her toys—until finally, even the heir’s private sitting room.
The moment the room traditionally reserved for the heir became Brienna’s bedroom, Nerea went straight to her father. Even at only four years old, her instincts clearly distinguished right from wrong.
But when she reached her father’s room, Helen and Brienna were already there.
“I’m sorry, my lady. It’s just that room is closest to the library.”
“You can’t be greedy, Lady Nerea. You hardly ever read books anyway.”
Brienna burst into tears, looking genuinely remorseful. Helen wrapped an arm around Brienna’s shoulders and coaxed Nerea in a deliberately gentle tone.
“Our Brienna even gave up her mother’s only lullaby out of pity for you, my lady. All you can share with her are just these material things, after all.”
When scheming men desperately battle for her favor in the male harem
This one’s also on my reread list! The rivalry, scheming between the men in the imperial harem are just as intense and thrilling as in classic palace drama novels, where concubines fight to the death. Give it a read, girls! I promise you won’t be disappointed.
Synopsis:
“I am not worthy of her… but I still want to be by her side, even if only as a loyal dog…”
Those were the painful whispers of Yue Guanyi – the proud Crown Prince of the Great Qi, who was torn between deep love and a guilty conscience. Despite holding the supreme power of the Imperial Guard, he still could not forget the dark past when he was sold into a brothel.
Fate played a cruel twist when Qiu Shuzhi – a young female official who had just passed the imperial examinations with top honors – stepped into his life. She did not know that she was the one who had saved him from a tragic fate many years ago. And now, her heart was the target of pursuit for both Yue Guanyi and the powerful Empress Dowager Qin Qing.
While Yue Guanyi only dared to silently care for and protect the one he loved from afar, the Empress Dowager Qin Qing openly expressed his feelings and did not hesitate to take advantage of his power to approach Qiu Shuzhi. The covert struggle between the two most powerful forces in the imperial court began…
Trigger warning: All men in this novel are yandere style.
_____
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