SODTAM | Ch 19

Episode 19 – So I Can Take It Out Again Anytime

A knight at the front lifted a massive flag high into the air.

The Imperial knights, the Stroud knights, and even the soldiers volunteering to march with them—together, the army looked larger than anyone had imagined.

Hilbardo glanced back at Ryan and Violetta, who had come to see them off.

The Duke stood there like he’d been dragged against his will, while the Duchess smiled gently, wishing everyone a safe return.

Did these men, who mocked her daily, realize that she cared for Stroud more deeply than anyone?

The thought of her being left behind in that mansion—alone, unprotected, slowly withering—made Hilbardo’s chest ache.

Among the crowd of servants, he caught the eyes of several maids and a few knights who would remain behind.

Their gazes locked briefly, silently exchanging understanding.

His clear blue eyes lingered with regret before turning forward again.

A trumpet blast sounded from the roof of the mansion, announcing their departure.

Those staying behind tied small scraps of cloth across the estate and the fief, each one a prayer:

That the battle would be short.

That their loved ones would return alive.

From the crowd, Solra’s eyes stayed glued to Hilbardo astride his massive horse.

She wanted to take one last look at the “second male lead” before he left.

He’s too far away… I can’t see well.

She stood on tiptoe, craning her neck until her calves burned.

Maybe I should move somewhere else.

She slipped out from the cluster of maids and headed toward the main gate.

There stood Sir Zero, the same knight she’d seen earlier at dawn.

He was in a stiff salute position, a perfect spot to see Hilbardo up close.

Smiling casually, Solra placed herself right beside him.

“Sir, I’ll just stay here a little. That’s alright, isn’t it?”

Zero looked uncomfortable, not knowing what to make of her, but returned to his formal stance.

Hands folded as though in prayer, Solra stood tall, hoping she looked like some saintly figure, and waited.

The drumbeat grew louder.

The Imperial army was approaching.

Her heart raced as Hilbardo drew nearer.

The massive column of soldiers rolled forward like a great wave.

He’s coming!

The leading banner passed.

Then—among the mounted commanders—there he was. Hilbardo, without a helmet, stared straight ahead.

Solra’s heart thudded.

He was breathtaking.

Different from Ryan, but equally magnetic.

She almost couldn’t believe that such a man would someday fall in love with a woman like her—someone already claimed by another.

His upright, unyielding posture, the reins steady in his hand, his piercing blue eyes.

For a fleeting moment, those eyes swept from Zero to her.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

It felt like a scene from a romantic film—Hilbardo looking right at her.

Solra forgot to breathe, forgot even to blink. She bit her lip, staring at him in a daze.

The knights following him marched past the gate in formation. Some, glancing around, noticed her.

“Huh?” one murmured, pointing at her with surprise.

Oh my god. He’s too handsome. I must be losing my mind.

Wasn’t Ryan supposed to be the novel’s male lead? Then why did Hilbardo seem so much more captivating?

Why did her heart pound harder for him, someone she’d never even spoken to?

She looked off in the distance—there was Ryan, directing orders to those staying behind.

That golden hair, the same blue eyes as Hilbardo, the noble air, the perfectly tailored clothes—blood of the Emperor himself.

But still… I love the Duke more.

What Solra needed was love. Hilbardo was heading to war. Ryan, though distant, could hold her right now if only he wished. That was what mattered.

So, she decided, it was fine if he didn’t look at her yet.

Hilbardo was gone.

Part of me felt relief. Yet unease still lingered.

Was it because he’d glimpsed my fragile state?

Or because that so-called duel between him and Ryan had ended without a proper resolution?

Either way, the Imperial army had marched to the border. My daily routine—gritting my teeth and carrying on—resumed.

I wanted to thank Ryan for his hard work and also bring up Jave’s birthday party, so I invited him to tea. He refused.

The moment the ceremony ended, he disappeared without a word.

Baron Kristi, awkward and apologetic, delivered paperwork in his stead.

Ryan had always been hard to see, but lately, he seemed determined to avoid me.

So I ended up having breakfast only with the head maid, then went straight to my office.

My steps felt unusually heavy today.

I was moving slowly down the corridor when a maid stepped into my path.

“What is it?” I asked.

It was one of the laundry maids, a girl I’d seen often on her morning rounds.

She looked barely sixteen, with brown hair tied back.

She should have been busy with extra work after the knights’ departure—so why was she here?

Glancing nervously at the head maid behind me, she whispered in a tiny voice,

“M-my lady… I have something for you.”

From her chest, she pulled out a fine envelope and held it out.

My eyes caught the handwriting on the front—it was Hilbardo’s.

“His Highness gave you this?”

“Yes, my lady. He told me to deliver it after he’d gone.”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Aelin. I handle the laundry.”

“Thank you, Aelin. I know you must be busy.”

She bowed deeply and hurried off.

Why had Hilbardo left me a letter?

What could be inside?

My slow steps quickened with curiosity.

As soon as I reached my office, I sat at my desk and grabbed a knife.

The head maid, sensing the mood, excused herself to fetch tea.

I opened the envelope. Inside were two sheets of paper—one filled top to bottom, the other only halfway.

Line after line worried over my well-being, begged me not to fall ill.

He wrote that he’d left a sturdy box on my balcony, and promised he’d return before winter ended.

“May you have victory, Your Highness.”

When I finished, I placed the letter and envelope carefully in my desk drawer.

So I could take it out again anytime.

In the days after the army’s departure, the air grew sharp and cold.

You could see your breath in the mornings and evenings. Soon it would be heavy-coat weather.

Jave’s first birthday party was only three days away.

Once it was over, I could begin taking him to small tea parties and gatherings with other children.

I’d already signaled interest in a few, and I planned to rejoin society’s ladies’ circles too.

“My lady, perhaps it’s time to go back inside?” the head maid asked as we walked in the garden. Her nose was pink from the chill. “If you stay out longer, you might catch a cold.”

“Yes, let’s return.”

Turning toward the mansion, I exhaled, watching my breath puff white in the crisp air.

This time last year had felt even colder.

Time really flies.

When Jave was born early, he was so tiny he barely filled half my arm.

Now, he could stand and toddle on his own.

He understood words, even made clumsy attempts to answer back.

By next year, he’d be speaking properly.

Running, eating bread and meat instead of mush.

Year by year, he’d grow taller, stronger. Someday, he’d be a man I could lean on.

The thought made me smile.

Talking softly with the head maid, I walked the corridor back toward my office.

Then I stopped.

Why is she here?

There she was—that fraud.

Black hair loose to her shoulders, a frilly, bright yellow dress.

Solra.

She was supposed to be in the annex. Instead, she stood smack in the middle of the corridor leading to my office.