[CHAPTER 64]
He had picked up a sheet of paper that was torn and dirty in places.
It was the pamphlet for the play they had received at Zivray Square.
“Why on earth do I love you?”
Reading the title with a crooked posture, Curden tilted his head.
“Thatâs my taste.”
“Hahaha.”
Meyna burst into laughter and said.
“They say the play is based on a bestselling novel. Apparently it sold one hundred thousand copies just last year.”
“I think I saw it in a magazine?”
Curden, who had been deep in thought, slapped his knee.
“I have that book in my roomâs study. Never read it though.”
“Really?”
“Believe it or not, I used to be a bookworm.”
“Believe it or not, I used to be a bookworm.”
“I know.”
According to Kalif, who liked to tease him, Curden had always been the type whose specialty was studying and whose hobby was reading, a weirdo who ranked first every year in the law department at Bonsel National School.
“Buying books and not even reading them. My work and life are a disaster.”
At Curdenâs grumbling, Meyna quietly giggled.
Putting down the pamphlet, he spoke with little interest.
“Iâm thinking of quitting soon anyway.”
“What?”
Startled, Meyna asked again.
Curden shrugged with an unreadable expression.
He was Kalifâs friend after all, so it was always hard to tell where his jokes ended and truth began.
“Iâm serious, Lady Lota.”
“Why? Are you not allowed to quit?”
“No, itâs not that⌔
“Whatâs the point of good pay? I work late every day, no weekends, and Iâm sick of cleaning up the messes that brat Kalif leaves behind.”
Frowning fiercely, Curden added.
“Well⌔
Meyna had heard he might be an Awakeneater, but she kept that to herself.
It wasnât certain yet.
“Get some rest. Iâm going to have a smoke before I go.”
Curden stood and grabbed the jacket hanging over the chair.
“Youâre leaving already?”
“Donât get up.”
He stopped Meyna, who had risen to walk him out, and with his long strides headed toward the door.
“Right. Magia said sheâll come pick you up tomorrow when youâre discharged.”
Waving his hand with his back still turned, he turned the doorknob.
Thank you, Curden.
Meyna told his tall, retreating back.
Suddenly, the thought of leaving Lennox Castle felt sad.
* * *
The morning of her fifth day in the hospital arrived.
“You can be discharged as planned.”
Goul gave permission after her final checkup.
Meyna climbed into the carriage with Magia, who had come early to escort her back to Lennox Castle.
Dozens of servants had gathered outside the main gate.
“Welcome back, Maâam!”
“We missed you, Maâam!”
Hugged by the young maids, Meyna tried to hide the heaviness in her chest.
I really have to tell them nowâŚ
She had still not told them that she was leaving this place.
Maybe she had lied to everyone simply because she wasnât ready to say goodbye.
At the very end of the second-floor hallway was her room.
Opening the door, the familiar scent and scenery greeted her.
She removed her gray cotton dress and changed into a pale blue silk indoor gown, then looked around the room.
Several bags she had packed little by little were neatly stacked in one corner.
Because she had asked the maids not to clean her room, a layer of dust had settled on the furniture while she was hospitalized.
Meyna walked to the window and pushed it open with both arms.
A lively midsummer landscape unfolded like a painting.
Under the warm sunlight of Ashirius in East Continent, the grass and trees sparkled, and the back gardens of Lennox Castle were painted in vivid green.
“Beautiful.”
Meyna quietly whispered and reached her hand out the window.
There was no wind that day.
The sunlight burned her palm, but somehow it made her feel alive.
It was a beautiful midday, enough to make her forget for a moment that she would soon have to leave.
Looking down at the vines climbing the castle walls, she took off her glasses and set them on the desk, then leaned her arms on the windowsill and closed her eyes.
The birdsong and the distant sound of water seemed to cool the summer heat.
At that moment.
On his way back after morning training, Kalif was heading to the inner chambers with heavy steps when he spotted Meyna.
Dressed in a thin sky-colored gown, she leaned against the window with her eyes closed.
Fine hair, a narrow face, features arranged too perfectly for any gaps.
Unaware that Kalif was watching her, she was enjoying a quiet moment in a way completely unlike her usual composed manner.
It hardly felt real.
Kalifâs gaze wavered with confusion.
“Sir Lennox. About the advisor. Does she have someone she meets?”
“Why do you ask?”
“No reason. Just curious.”
Was it a knight from some guild they had joined for subjugation last month?
Or a few months ago.
Or last year.
In truth, there were too many days for him to pinpoint when it began.
Men who wondered if Meyna was married or quietly tried to find out whether she had someone.
And his answer had always been the same.
“No idea.”
“Youâre with her every day and you donât know?”
“Should I know?”
“Well, no, but⌔
“Sheâll meet someone on her own, and when itâs time to marry, sheâll marry. If youâre curious, ask her yourself.”
It had always been someone elseâs business to him.
His only duty was to do his work as her superior, not pry into her personal life.
Kalif unbuttoned the soaked front of his uniform and resumed walking.
It was a suffocatingly hot day.
* * *
After a short rest, Meyna headed to the dining room for lunch.
For some reason, Kalif was sitting at the head of the sunlit table.
“OhâŚ?”
Startled, she stopped.
Kalif, legs crossed and reading a newspaper, glanced at her.
“What are you doing? Donât just stand there.”
His tone was casual, as if nothing had happened.
He motioned lightly to the seat beside him.
Meyna hid her discomfort and sat down.
From the kitchen came the busy sounds of meal preparation, along with the smell of baking bread.
“Why are you home at this hour?”
“Just stopped by. I have to leave again soon.”
Answering without looking at her, Kalif turned a page.
Meyna drank some water and quietly studied his face.
He looked far too worn out.
His complexion was bad, his jaw shadowed with stubble, and the whites of his eyes were bloodshot.
His hair, slightly damp from a shower, was long enough to fall below his eyelids.
A drop of water slid down his cheek as he wiped it away without expression, then closed the newspaper.
Meyna quickly looked away.
“How are you feeling?”
“I leave in three days.”
Their words overlapped.
An awkward silence followed.
“Right.”
Meyna broke the quiet first.
More than two weeks had passed as if erased by the events they had been through, and only three days remained.
“Time went by fast.”
Looking not at Kalif but somewhere in the air, she shifted her gaze to the window.
The bright afternoon sky stretched beyond the large panes.
“Did it.”
Kalif answered in a tone she couldnât read.
Meyna glanced at him but said nothing, keeping her eyes on the window again.
Kalif quietly watched her profile.
Her pale, almost translucent skin glowed under the sunlight, and as always, her emerald hair tied back reminded him of a seaside view.
Her cheeks had grown thin from hardship, yet her eyes somehow seemed more vivid.
After staring for a long time, Kalif finally looked away.
“Meyna.”
Her gaze slowly moved toward him.
“Forget it.”
He said it in the tone one might use to talk about the weather.
“What?”
Not understanding him, Meyna blinked with an innocent expression.
Kalif chose his words for a while, then spoke.
“Everything that happened here.”
