* * *
The child seemed disheartened by my denial, drawing out their words in disappointment.
Muttering indistinctly, they picked up a stick and began drawing on the ground, pretending to be preoccupied.
It seemed my rejection of their compliment had embarrassed them.
When I looked closer at what they were writing, I stifled a smile.
To my surprise, the child was writing words, not drawing flowers or butterflies as I’d expected.
Their letters were wobbly, as if they lacked the strength to hold the stick firmly, but they were writing nonetheless.
It looked like they were repeatedly writing a word that resembled “book” or “nice.”
Though hard to decipher, one thing was clear—it wasn’t easy to read.
I watched quietly before finally asking, “What are you writing?”
“‘Nice,’” they murmured, hesitating before hastily wiping the word away with their palm.
Their shy response, coupled with their quiet voice, suggested they were aware of their own messy handwriting.
So that was “nice.”
Suppressing a smile, I held back a chuckle.
I didn’t want to hurt the child’s budding confidence.
After all, I’d struggled with messy handwriting when I first learned to write too.
Laughing at their attempt might leave a lasting bad memory for them.
And I didn’t want that.
“Can you write words too?”
“Yeah, the village elder taught me. She said even commoners should know a few things.”
“I see.”
When asked about the surprising literacy of a commoner, an unexpected answer came back.
It was quite astonishing that a grandmother, who was merely the village head of a remote mountain town, had enough skill to teach a child how to read.
It was equally surprising that she believed commoners should know such things.
“That’s right. Even if you think you won’t need it, it’s good to know how to read.”
I nodded as I gazed at the small back of the child’s head, then let out a quiet sigh.
My lips moved on their own.
“Shall I teach you?”
I asked softly, placing my hand over the back of the child’s hand.
Then, on the dirt the child had clumsily disturbed, I wrote the word “kind.”
You could learn letters by memory, but in time, you’d have to rely on muscle memory.
I hoped the child would remember the feeling I imparted.
The child’s gaze, focused on our joined hands, grew vacant.
“Read?”
“Yes, to read.”
“Wow.”
The child gasped as soon as they understood my offer.
Their hand, clutching a twig, trembled slightly, showing clear signs of nervousness.
“Do you know how to read well?”
“I wouldn’t say perfectly, but I’ve learned enough.”
“Wow.”
The child’s eyes sparkled.
I wondered if knowing how to read made me seem extraordinary.
The way they carefully touched my sleeve, eyes filled with admiration, was endearing.
They looked up at my eyes, hidden under my hood, then, blushing deeply, spoke.
“Then I’d like to learn. Please teach m… Ah.”
Mid-sentence, they seemed to realize something they had forgotten, and their excited tone quickly subsided.
Their eyes drooped shyly.
“But, you see.”
“I’m listening.”
“To learn from you, do I have to pay? The village head grandmother taught me for free, but normally, people pay for lessons, right?”
So it was about money.
The child wanted to learn but didn’t think they could afford to pay for every lesson.
Sensing their situation, I smiled faintly and gently patted the head of the child, who was nervously gauging my reaction like a wary puppy.
“I’ll teach you for free. Besides, I was looking for something to do in the village.”
If I lived frugally, I could get by for a few years with the money I had saved, so I didn’t need to work to survive.
But I didn’t want to waste time.
Idle moments brought back unrelenting memories that suffocated me.
So teaching this child wasn’t a burden; it was a chance to break free from my brooding thoughts and use my time meaningfully.
“However.”
“If learning for free bothers you, how about running an errand for me each time I teach you?”
“An errand?”
“Yes.”
The child immediately frowned.
It seemed they already knew that errands and money weren’t equivalent in value.
Watching their head tilt in thought, I hugged my knees tighter.
“Today, let’s see… could you guide me to the village head’s house?”
I added in a flat tone, “I need to pay my respects.”
The child’s gaze dropped to the ground, then rose.
Their once cloudy expression cleared up, as if the internal debate had ended.
The child, who introduced themselves as Tommy, led me to a house with a green roof next to the village hall.
After saying they’d come to learn from tomorrow, Tommy disappeared from sight.
Only when their small figure was entirely out of view did I knock on the green-roofed house’s door.
Knock, knock.
After waiting a few seconds, the door opened to reveal an elderly woman wrapped in a blanket.
She looked exactly as Tommy had described—kind and wise.
This must be the village head.
As I tried to choose my words, the lines around his eyes deepened.
“You’re Isaac Winter, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yes.”
I was startled by his greeting, recognizing my name immediately.
I hadn’t expected his to know me.
As the village head, she must meet many people, yet to recall my name at a glance was no small feat.
“So you knew.”
“A young man who came before told me. He asked me to look after you.”
Sehir?
Just as I was about to sort my thoughts behind a faint smile, the elderly woman unexpectedly pulled me into a gentle hug, patting my back with a slow, timeworn touch.
“I don’t know what brought you to this village, but you did well to come, child.”
“…”
“You’ve done well.”
Her warm embrace carried a peculiar, comforting scent.
It was difficult to describe but felt both soothing and relaxing.
Feeling his gentle pats, I unconsciously bent forward, resting my forehead on his shoulder.
It had been a long time since I had felt such unreserved warmth from someone.
Words I wanted to say stuck in my throat.
I had only come to introduce myself to the village head on my first day as a resident of Aiden Village.
I hadn’t expected such a warm welcome.
All I intended was to introduce myself and hope for a good relationship going forward.
“…Yes.”
Finally, I found my voice.
The turmoil in my mind, which had persisted for days, suddenly cleared.
All I wanted was to sink deeper into his warm embrace, even though this was our first meeting.
Had Sehir told his anything about me?
The thought briefly crossed my mind, but it wasn’t important now.
Unconsciously, I kept saying, “Yes, yes,” and hugged the village head back.
The hood of my robe slipped down, revealing the dirty hair I had wanted to keep hidden, but I didn’t notice.
I clung to this long-missed warmth desperately.
The meticulously constructed mask I wore began to crack.
“Thank you for holding me.”
Perhaps all I needed wasn’t something extraordinary but simply this—warmth.
One year later, summer.
[Where is our hero… In search of his whereabouts.
The whereabouts of the kingdom’s hero, Duke Kaindel Rayford Shudergarten, have become a hot topic. It was last spring when the engagement between Princess Kerona de Hadelber, the sole daughter of His Majesty King Philophe V de Hadelber, and Duke Kaindel Rayford Shudergarten was officially announced. Yet, no concrete details about their wedding have surfaced.
At the time of their engagement, His Majesty declared that the wedding would take place around the Goddess Day, the autumn harvest festival. His Majesty had proclaimed, “On a day of joy for all the people of Hadelber, a union will take place, heralding a golden age for the kingdom.” However, the promised autumn passed, and now, as summer arrives in the new year, there is still no sign of the wedding between the princess and the duke.
Since the engagement, Duke Shudergarten has often been absent from public appearances, exhibiting erratic and inexplicable behavior, which has stirred controversy. Many have shown understanding and support, speculating that the hero, having battled a great calamity, might be mentally and emotionally drained.
However, the duke’s disappearance for the past six months has heightened concerns. Few have seen him, even within the Shudergarten estate. A servant of the duke’s household testified, “It’s been almost a month since the bedroom was last cleaned, as he hasn’t left his chambers,” which has further fueled speculation.
Meanwhile, Princess Kerona’s reaction to the duke’s absence has become a topic of debate. Recently, she remarked, “Who can blame a hero for being indecisive?” and assured everyone that Duke Shudergarten is somewhere in the kingdom, alive and well, urging people not to worry unnecessarily.
While his words have comforted some, others doubt the sincerity of their relationship, questioning the coldness between the betrothed pair. There is also growing criticism among the nobility about the princess’s frequent accompaniment by Heron Gevan, the common-born leader of the First Knights, at every official event in the duke’s absence.
The controversy surrounding Princess Kerona and Duke Shudergarten is unlikely to subside until the duke reappears in public. The Shudergarten household, when approached for comments, remains silent.
Where is our hero truly? All eyes are on his next move.]
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👍
When does the next chapter come out?? This is so good!!! What’s the upload schedule for this 😭
My beautiful baby has been through so much and finally found someone to carry him.
Thanks for the chapter