* * *

According to Sehir, my house was a red-roofed one visible after turning right from the village hall.

Relying on our conversation, I soon spotted the modest red roof.

The two-story house, though seemingly old, was well-maintained.

Its clean exterior pleased me, especially being distant enough from the marketplace to avoid the noise.

I inspected the weed-free surroundings before stepping inside.

The creaky wooden door revealed an interior as satisfying as the exterior.

The furniture, seemingly newly placed by Sehir, was simple yet not overwhelming.

After passing through the kitchen, living room, and bathroom on the first floor, I ascended to find two rooms on the second floor.

One, facing east, appeared to be the bedroom, furnished with a single bed and a dresser.

Perhaps the other room was a study?

Glancing through the open door, I sat on the bed.

The long carriage ride left my body sore.

Although curious to explore the house more, resting was my priority.

My lower body felt abused, and even my joints ached.

At times like this, I missed Owen’s healing touch.

His grumbling yet diligent care lingered in my memory.

Still, I had to unpack.

After staring into space, I snapped back to reality.

Before resting, I needed to unpack to avoid becoming lazy.

“Unpacking…”

My fingers brushed the tightly bound knots of my bags.

Once undone, the belongings I’d brought from the Shudelgatten estate—clothes, an ornate music box, and other tightly packed items—would spill out like a flood.

I hesitated, withdrawing my hand.

“I don’t want to.”

Without thinking, I voiced my true feelings.

I’d packed these items because I couldn’t bear to part with them, but I wasn’t ready to face them again.

By now, the post-engagement banquet would be over.

Were they already planning the wedding with the princess?

I gazed out at the houses, each with uniquely colored roofs, offering a delightful view.

Birds fluttered leisurely among them, adding to the serene scenery.

This village was the epitome of tranquility.

Breathing in deeply, the ache in my muscles seemed to ease.

Typically, weddings were held within six months of the engagement.

Hence, Kaindel and the princess, having just completed their engagement ceremony, were undoubtedly rushing their wedding preparations.

They’d need to secure a venue, plan the banquet, compile the guest list, and select decorations, food, and other details.

Countless tasks awaited them.

Kaindel must be incredibly busy right now, probably too swamped to even notice my absence.

Would he even realize I’m gone?

Probably not.

Knowing his nature, he’d avoid any unnecessary stress, especially with his upcoming marriage to the princess.

It’s clear he wouldn’t spare a thought for anything else.

So, I hope he finds out much later.

I wish for him to discover the letter I left and my absence only when those memories are on the verge of fading.

This was a selfish desire.

That way, he wouldn’t be able to completely forget me, and I could live on forever in his memory.

Most people wish for their exes to be happy, but I wished for his unhappiness.

I prayed his life without me would be only slightly happy.

Not too much, not too little—just enough to hurt and find joy as much as I did.

That thought stayed with me throughout the bumpy ride in the wagon.

Just as I put an end to these thoughts, a strange song drifted in through the slightly open window.

“Let’s pull out the weeds, yank out all the weeds~.”

There were no weeds when I arrived, so what weeds were they talking about?

The tune was erratic, with a melody and rhythm all over the place, making me wrinkle my nose.

The singer’s voice, clear and unbroken, suggested a child not yet past puberty.

Despite the crystal-clear sound, the lyrics were far from poetic.

My curiosity was piqued by the odd song.

A child lives around here?

Tilting my head, I moved closer to the window.

The neighborhood was usually so quiet that the presence of a child felt surprising.

Peering outside, I immediately spotted a child’s back.

The first thing that stood out was their deep reddish-brown hair, almost brown.

Below the striking hair was clothing so grubby it looked like the child had been playing in muddy water, befitting someone their age.

“Weeds, weeds,” the child sang, though it barely resembled a song, their excitement evident.

Their little shoulders bounced lightly as they giggled.

My gaze drifted to the child’s hands, and I spotted a tightly grasped flower bud.

The bud, not yet in full bloom, could easily be mistaken for a mere weed—but it definitely wasn’t.

What should I do?

If I suddenly interrupt their play, I might scare them.

Resting my chin on my hand, I watched the child prepare to pluck the bud and spoke gently.

“That’s not a weed.”

“Ah!”

The child jumped in surprise, dropping the bud immediately upon hearing my voice break the silence.

They looked over, stretching their neck, only to tumble back on their bottom—a rather endearing sight.

“Ow,” they muttered, rubbing their sore bottom, their brows furrowed, before finally meeting my gaze.

Their light brown eyes, like drops of brown paint on a white canvas, stared at me.

With their mouth slightly agape, the child curiously examined me before suddenly springing to their feet.

“Wow, when did you get here?”

“Sorry?”

“Mom said you’d come after ten nights of sleep. Why are you here so soon?”

What’s this about ten nights?

I chuckled, amused by the child’s whimsical logic.

Their innocence was contagious.

“Well, things happened, so I came early. Do you live around here?”

“Yup, over there.”

“Over there, huh.”

They pointed toward the village hall.

It seemed they lived in one of the houses nearby.

A neighbor.

I brushed back my loose hair, understanding their vague explanation.

Meanwhile, the child sniffled and rubbed their hands together, their eyes sparkling like a puppy waiting for praise.

“I cleaned up the alley while waiting for you. Did you notice?”

“Is that why you were pulling weeds just now?”

“Yeah.”

“No wonder the path is so clean. Thanks.”

Without a dedicated caretaker like in the city, the weed-free, debris-free alley was impressive.

It made sense if this child had been tidying it up.

The talk of ten nights, the weed-pulling—it all made it clear they’d been eagerly awaiting my arrival.

In a village as insular as this, the arrival of a new resident must have been exciting for a child.

Reaching into my robe pocket, I found some hard candies given to me by a kind woman on the wagon.

I wasn’t sure what flavor they were, but I figured the child would like them.

Rolling the candies in my hand, I said, “Wait a moment, I’ll come down.”

“Okay!”

The child nodded energetically, almost making me worry they’d fall over again.

Before their curiosity could lead them elsewhere, I quickly tidied my clothes and hurried outside, crouching down beside them.

“This isn’t a weed; it’s a flower. See the bud here? It hasn’t bloomed yet, so you shouldn’t pull it out.”

“Oh, I didn’t know.”

“It’s small, so it’s easy to miss.”

I tapped the bud with my finger, and the child’s eyes widened in surprise.

They gently patted the flower, mumbling an apology to no one in particular.

As I watched their innocent reaction, I shifted the conversation.

“Do you like candy?”

“Yeah, but I can only have two. Mom says it’ll rot my teeth.”

“Then I’ll give you just two.”

I picked two round candies from my pocket and handed them over, and the child’s face lit up with a beaming smile.

“You’re really nice, mister. I like you a lot.”

“I’m not that nice.”

My familiar past echoed in my mind.

A chill ran down my spine.

Those unwanted memories resurfaced too often.

If only they were all bad memories, it’d be easier to forget.

I struggled to suppress my rising emotions and forced a smile.

It felt hollow, insincere.

“I’m really not.”

* * *