Chapter 27
Chapter 027. Let’s Go, to the Land of Anata! (8)
Sionne recalled the old stories Merilyn used to tell him as a child.
He’d never cared for them, but Anna insisted on hearing one every night, so he’d had no choice but to listen—romantic tales he had no interest in.
Now, he decided to adapt one of those stories. There was no way Rosalyn would know the folktales passed down in Feitan.
“Before the war began, Your Grace came to Feitan on a reconnaissance mission. Disguised as a gypsy.”
‘Of all things… a gypsy?’
Rosalyn, who was not particularly fond of gypsies, gave a puzzled nod.
“…I see.”
“By chance, I had just slipped out of the palace to visit my family.”
“Family?”
Rosalyn soon recalled the report she’d read and his unusual background.
“Ah, you mean the old woman who raised you until you were eighteen.”
“Yes.”
Sionne wanted to say, ‘The same woman and her granddaughter you’re now holding hostage,’ but he simply smiled.
“But as I was heading down the alley toward Merilyn’s house, I saw a gypsy surrounded by thugs.”
“And that gypsy was me?”
The story was starting to sound more and more cliché. Rosalyn frowned.
“I thought it was a dangerous situation and stepped in.”
“And then?”
“Well, turns out the red-haired gypsy took down all those burly men on her own.”
Of course. Rosalyn’s expression eased. There was no way she’d be sitting around waiting for help.
“But I was alone? That doesn’t sound right.”
Then she caught the inconsistency in his tale.
‘Gilbert would’ve been with me then, wouldn’t he?’
But Sionne smoothed over her doubts effortlessly.
“Later, you explained you were gathering intel and had deliberately gone alone. You said I’d messed it all up by getting involved.”
“Hm.”
“I, not knowing that, tried to report the thugs to the city guard. I remember you being annoyed.”
Sionne stroked his chin, recalling the heroine’s line from Merilyn’s old story.
“I said, ‘It’s dangerous to let them go—what if they come back for revenge?’ And do you know what you said?”
Naturally, Rosalyn couldn’t possibly know. Not even with her memories restored would she remember something that never happened.
“What did I say?”
“‘Let them come. They’re not worth worrying about. Now stop following me.’ That’s exactly what you said.”
Sionne rewrote the heroine’s line to better match Rosalyn’s personality.
“I think it was around that time.”
“What was?”
“When I fell for you, Your Grace.”
Now, lies came as naturally to Sionne as breathing. Maybe his conscience had worn away after so many.
“I should’ve finished you back then. That was the chance.”
Rosalyn replied dryly, but without real heat.
“If I’d lured you to some quiet place and slit your throat, the war wouldn’t have dragged on for seven years.”
Sionne just smiled softly at her sharp remark.
“Then I’m fortunate Your Grace was merciful that day.”
As much as Rosalyn was getting used to his constant flirting, Sionne was getting used to her violent jokes.
“So what happened next?”
Though she pretended not to care, she was clearly invested. Without realizing it, she was urging him on.
“After that, we crossed paths several times on the battlefield.”
He tossed another piece of firewood into the flames.
“The most memorable time was at the Feitan palace.”
This time, he brought up something that had actually happened. Fabricating the whole thing from start to finish was too risky.
‘Feitan palace…?’
Rosalyn recalled the image that had first come to her when she saw him.
“Was the palace on fire back then?”
“Yes, that’s right. Do you… remember?”
“Just a little.”
She nodded.
“…”
Sionne watched her closely. If she started remembering too much, things could go badly for him.
He regretted his choice—bringing up something that had actually happened.
What he didn’t know, however, was that doing so had made the story feel more believable to Rosalyn.
“Hernian forces stormed the palace, right to where I was.”
Sionne continued the tale cautiously, keeping things as vague as possible.
“I fought to the end, but it was useless. Surrounded by countless Hernian soldiers, there was nothing I could do.”
Back then, Rosalyn de Anata had glanced down at him while he was bound and ordered him not to be killed but taken to the capital.
“Later, while I was imprisoned underground, you came and brought me out. Said you’d been keeping an eye on me for some time.”
As Sionne clumsily wrapped up the story, Rosalyn gave a slow nod.
It wasn’t as grand a story as she’d imagined—and yet, it was unexpectedly believable.
“I see…”
The now-blazing campfire had warmed the inside of the cave. As the heat sank in, the exhaustion she’d been holding back began to catch up with her.
“…”
Sionne watched her head start to droop. He gently tilted it toward him so she could rest it on his shoulder.
“Sionne Feitan.”
Rosalyn spoke with a drowsy voice, no longer bothering to reject his kindness.
“Earlier… your swordsmanship was decent.”
“I’m just glad I could be of help to Your Grace.”
“…When we get to Anata, teach me Feitan swordsmanship.”
Murmuring sleepily, Rosalyn made a promise for the future.
“!”
Sionne looked down at the top of her head.
“You would let me stay in Anata?”
“When did I say that?”
Her voice, barely audible now, grumbled back.
“Only until I’ve learned your swordsmanship. If my memory hasn’t returned by then… then you give up.”
It was a fair compromise. For Rosalyn, it would be time to relieve some of her guilt.
“…Yes.”
And for Sionne, it was one last chance.
‘Seems it was worth getting hurt to keep her alive.’
As the sky began to lighten, faint voices of Anata knights searching for them echoed in the distance.
Before they arrived, Sionne carefully wrapped Rosalyn’s body in her clothes, piece by piece.
* * *
After much hardship, they finally arrived at Anata Castle. But for all they’d gone through to reach it, the place was disappointingly shabby.
“……”
The group stared in silence at the fortress before them.
‘Can this even be called a castle?’
No one said it aloud, but everyone was thinking the same thing.
Half-collapsed towers. Rust-streaked windows. Vines growing unchecked along the stone walls.
It looked more like the haunted domain of some vampire out of an old ghost story.
The fact that this ruin was to become their new home left them all at a loss.
“Thank you all for your hard work getting here. We made it safely thanks to your efforts.”
Sensing the mood, Rosalyn encouraged the group.
“For now, let’s focus on preparing a place to sleep and getting some rest.”
At her words, the group began to move in unison.
Despite their exhaustion from the long journey, everyone worked diligently. The looming threat of having to spend the night without proper shelter gave them a burst of urgency.
Before long, a room had been prepared for Rosalyn. She followed the servants carrying documents up the stairs.
“?”
That was when she felt a presence behind her and turned around. Sionne Feitan was trailing behind her with a look of innocent calm.
“What are you doing, Sionne Feitan?”
“Would Your Grace leave me behind here?”
“……”
Rosalyn glanced at the space behind him.
Most likely, tonight the knights and servants would sleep in shared quarters. It was hard to imagine Sionne being comfortable in that arrangement.
But she couldn’t ask the exhausted staff to prepare another room just for him, either.
“Just for tonight.”
She sighed and resumed climbing the stairs.
“I’m honored.”
Sionne nodded naturally and followed her up.
The twenty-one-year-old Rosalyn de Anata acted like she was unshakeable, but in truth, she had many soft spots. Once she understood someone’s feelings or situation, she often bent her will with surprising ease.
‘Is that gentleness or weakness?’
Either way, the woman now and the Rosalyn of twenty-eight felt like different people.
‘!’
But Sionne suddenly shook his head, startled by his own thoughts.
At some point, he had started dividing the woman in front of him into two people—the one before the memory loss, and the one after.
But that kind of thinking was dangerous.
‘She’s no different. Just a woman I have to kill.’
Sionne reminded himself firmly.
“…Let’s do that, then.”
In the middle of this, he missed part of what Rosalyn said.
“Pardon?”
He moved naturally to walk beside her.
Rosalyn gave him a displeased glance. A consort walking side by side with her—bold, considering the circumstances. But she owed him her life, and that made it difficult to scold him harshly.
Somehow, it felt like she was being far too soft on him.
