Bittersweet Farewell at Talian Hall
For several days now, an eerie silence had hung around Talian Hall. An awkward hush that felt suffocating. The servants and slaves moved with exaggerated caution, barely daring to let their footsteps echo.
“Lucy?”
“The lady said she’s not receiving any guests.”
Again today. Ian dragged his slightly heavier feet onward. Passing the servants tending to their duties and Belenca swinging her sword in the open yard, he headed back to his lodging.
For days, Ian hadn’t seen Lucy. Every time he tried to visit, a polite ban on visitors had been in place.
There was nothing left for him to do in Talian domain. Sticking around longer would just be a waste of time. Not just for Ian—Galadin was visibly wasting away day by day.
“Ian. Departing today...?”
“Yeah. Doesn’t look like it.”
“Ahh...”
Galadin wasn’t here on vacation. For all his mild manner, he was the baron’s scribe, handling various administrative tasks. Every day spent lingering in Talian meant real-time losses.
“...Understood. Then we’ll postpone departure until tomorrow.”
Galadin’s shoulders slumped dejectedly, but... there was nothing he could do.
Lucy Talian wouldn’t see Ian—what could he possibly accomplish?
Galadin couldn’t fathom why Lucy had suddenly secluded herself. And he wasn’t alone in his confusion.
Ian, too, struggled to make sense of her behavior. Was saying goodbye really that hard? It wasn’t like they were parting forever—just a trip, and he’d return. Besides, with fairy silk piling up in the domain, he’d have to swing by anyway to handle that.
Yet Lucy acted as if she couldn’t accept Ian vanishing from her sight.
Am I the one messing up? Ian even wondered.
But he hadn’t done anything wrong. Their escort contract had run its course; now it was time to part ways.
Still, clearly, Lucy didn’t want to let go.
“Lucy?”
“I’m sorry, but...”
A full week now. With Lucy persistently refusing meetings, Ian had to make a call.
“Belenca. Galadin. Let’s head out now.”
“...Finally!”
He decided to leave without a proper farewell. Sure, it stung to go without seeing her face, but Ian’s journey had to continue.
#
Lucy Talian stared blankly up at the clear sky. An unblemished azure expanse. Just like the scriptures described, supreme purity existed up there.
“Heavenly Father.”
She wasn’t a devout girl. But the deep darkness in her heart drove even a wayward noble to invoke the divine name.
I must have been mistaken.
When Ian first said he was leaving the domain, she’d been shocked. That shock was named betrayal.
Ian had journeyed with her all this time. Laughing, chatting, walking the same path. They’d shared worries when war turned against them, fought side by side to reclaim her rights.
Lucy still remembered vividly, as if it were yesterday, the moment Ian saved her. When Grame’s soldiers closed in. The arms that snatched her away, pulling her close. His trembling voice, her heart pounding wildly.
Lucy could never forget.
Lucy Talian wasn’t some exceptional person. She knew that well. Born to noble parents, used as bait to lure mercenaries. When furious mercenaries rebelled and killed her folks, she’d fled powerlessly, begging for help... Just a helpless 18-year-old girl.
To such a Lucy, the mage Ian was an extraordinary figure. Manipulating water and wind, summoning shadows. His bizarre magic stirred fear—or awe—in people.
To Lucy, Ian was a coveted tool.
At first, she wanted his magic. To keep him by her side as her loyal mage. With nothing but her worthless body to offer, marriage seemed the way to bind him.
Any aversion to using marriage? Not really. Her parents had done the same. Marriage was a useful tool. Foolish not to exploit it for gain.
But as their journey wore on, as she learned more about Ian the person... her heart shifted.
She craved more than his magic.
...
Lucy Talian realized it. What she truly desired wasn’t Ian’s magic.
It was Ian himself.
She wanted him by her side. Like on their travels—seeing each other’s faces every day, sharing jokes, spending time together.
Ian always smiled at her. So she thought, maybe Ian feels the same...
“Ian.”
Lucy gazed at the bracelet he’d given her. Crude. Yet beautiful. She felt it mirrored her—plain now, but capable of dazzling brilliance.
Just as she, defined only by her noble status, could become better by developing the domain.
If only one person would shape and adorn her.
She believed she could become a true treasure... and she wanted to grow alongside Ian.
But Ian’s heart wasn’t in it. He hadn’t even considered staying with her.
That infuriated her. Hence the betrayal, the seclusion, the refusal to go out.
Ridiculous, really. She’d built up expectations on her own, then sulked when his feelings didn’t match. Childish tantrum.
“Milady.”
A servant entered, but Lucy didn’t turn. She could tell without looking. Morning sun low in the sky. As always, Ian had come to see her—and left.
“The mage came by.”
“I see.”
“He didn’t return to the lodging. He headed to the stables.”
“...Right. Got it.”
Hearing Ian was saddling his horse, Lucy smiled bitterly.
It had been a week of her pettiness. If she’d just explained her disappointment, her frustrations... Ian might have understood.
But like a spoiled brat, she’d shut herself away, lips sealed. So Ian hadn’t even bothered with a final goodbye.
Self-inflicted wound.
But... she was terrified.
Terrified of confessing her true feelings. Of baring the darkness in her heart, her weak, foolish emotions to Ian.
So she’d holed up.
But time had run out. Ian was leaving.
“Holy Heaven above.”
Yes, yes. Speak, my lovely lady.
“Grant me courage.”
Oh dear. Are you afraid? Sadly, that’s impossible.
Because you’re already braver than any warrior.
I’m rooting for you, lady born under the stars’ fate.
Lucy didn’t know the mysteries. Lacking deep faith, she couldn’t hear the holy voice. Yet her prayer had surely reached the heavens.
She shot to her feet. Fingering the bracelet on her wrist.
She ran.
When she flung open Talian Hall’s front gates...
“Eek.”
“Kyaa! I-Ian?!"
She collided with Ian, just entering the hall. Face flushing crimson, Lucy looked up at him.
She panicked. Wasn’t he at the stables?
The explanation came from a certain blonde knight.
‘Met with the Talian baroness?’
‘Nah? Just gonna head out.’
‘Without even seeing her face?’
‘What’s the big deal? We’ll meet again someday.’
‘...Go back one more time.’
‘Why me?’
‘Think of it as the final courtesy to a travel companion. If you can’t manage that much manners, I’ll deem you unworthy of serving.’
Swallowing hard at Belenca’s steely warning, Ian relented.
‘That serious?’
‘That serious.’
‘...Fine, I’ll go.’
He’d feared she might actually leave if he just split. So Ian returned to Talian Hall.
And met Lucy.
Seeing her after a week felt strange, awkward. Maybe because her actions and expressions differed from usual.
She seemed more nervous around him, hyper-aware.
“You’re... leaving now, right?”
“Yeah.”
But once conversation started, the awkwardness melted away. They’d never been the type to stand on ceremony.
“Feeling better?”
“Wasn’t sick or anything.”
“Oh?”
“...Lies. My heart hurt. No, I was pissed.”
Lucy stepped boldly closer.
“Pissed?”
“Yeah! Ian! Even so, just bailing without a word...!”
“What’re you talking about? My gig was always up to here. Don’t you remember?”
“I do! But! It pisses me off!”
“Why?”
“You keep sticking to the damn contract like it’s everything!”
Whoa now, Baroness Talian. Since when do you care about feelings? Weren’t you a Westerner? Even us “barbaric” medieval folk lived in a world where contracts were everyday routine—remnants of the old Golden Empire civilization.
Lucy’s outburst was pure tantrum. She knew it too.
Having started her fit, she grabbed Ian’s shoulders, face red, and yelled.
“Ian! Be my vassal!”
“Nah. Why would I?”
“Or my husband!”
“...Pretty sure I said no before.”
“Do you have to travel? Study magic?”
Ian gently pried her hands off, smiling. Lucy didn’t know. That in his past life, he’d been an alien, hiding mysteries unknown to medieval folk.
Until he uncovered the world’s secrets and the gods’ true nature, Ian wouldn’t stop exploring.
“Yeah. Take care, Lucy.”
“...!”
“I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
The moment Ian removed her hands, Lucy cupped his cheeks with both of hers.
In a blink.
Lucy pressed her lips to his.
“...”
A fleeting kiss, over in an instant.
Still blushing, Lucy said, “Promise you’ll keep it. Come back quick.”
“...Yeah.”
“Try running off somewhere else. I’ll sell all the fairy silk, raise an army with the cash, and hunt you down...!”
Ian burst out laughing. The baroness’s threat was terrifying.
“I’ll return, so don’t worry. And handle the fairy silk however—just don’t botch it completely. Turn it into clothes and sell, invest the money. Your call.”
Lucy had luck on her side; entrusting it to her wouldn’t hurt. If she blew it... well, cut her off next time.
“Got it. I’ll make a fortune by then...”
Lucy shyly spread her arms.
Ian gave her a light hug.
“Take care of yourself. Ian.”
“Will do. I’m off.”
Lucy clung tightly, as if memorizing his warmth forever.
Ian waved goodbye.
It was a warm spring day.