Eliana's Hushed Chamber and Winter Island
The room was hushed. As if it belonged to another world entirely. Quiet, yet not oppressively so. A strange sensation, Kalen thought.
The first thing that caught his eye was the enormous window. The bed was large, but it seemed like a mere toy compared to the vast expanse of floor-to-ceiling glass. Kalen cautiously surveyed the spot. There, almost imperceptible, sat a girl of slender, delicate build on the bed. Had she not heard him open the door quite forcefully? Or was she deliberately ignoring him? It was impossible to say, but Kalen kept his composure. The girl had been staring out the window the whole time.
She had to be Eliana Rakatus. At the same moment, Everchan Rakatus's words echoed in his mind. The task was simple: stay by Eliana's side without complaining of pain, maintaining that state without issue. He'd heard that merely approaching her room, let alone entering, triggered her symptoms. In that regard, things looked promising for now.
...Is she ignoring me? As he stood there, other thoughts began to creep in. It hadn't been long since he'd entered the room. Yet Eliana's gaze remained fixed outside. He'd heard that noble ladies often had prickly personalities. But this seemed excessive. Ignoring someone who approached showed clear disdain.
Kalen cleared his throat softly.
"..."
But her indifference persisted. Eliana's eyes stayed trained on the world beyond the glass.
I need to test it anyway. He had no precise measure of what Everchan meant by "by her side." Assuming it meant right next to her, Kalen stepped forward without hesitation.
Step. Step. One pace, two. As the distance closed, a truth emerged.
She doesn't even know I'm here...? Eliana wasn't ignoring him—she hadn't even registered his presence.
He reached the bedside, close enough to feel her warmth. At the same moment, a dull throb stirred deep in his chest. It felt like the pain of mana overheating. But it was far milder than described. They'd said it burned through the body, especially the heart. What Kalen felt was just an ache—tolerable enough.
"Is... someone there...?"
The voice was crystalline, the kind of pure transparency words were made for. Utterly unclouded, it flowed like clear spring water.
"Emma...? Is that you...?"
Emma was the name of the teary-eyed apprentice maid. Kalen stood frozen before her.
"Why aren't you answering...? Emma...?"
Eliana's eyes faced him, but they held no image of him.
*She can't even walk properly,* Everchan had said of Eliana. But that was hardly the extent of it. Her vision, hearing—none of it fell within the realm of normal.
"No, Emma... You can't come this close... Even if you're the best of them..."
Eliana pushed him away with clumsy hands. Could she only make out vague shapes? Kalen gauged it roughly and spoke.
"Hello."
Eliana froze, her words stumbling.
"Who..."
Fear laced her voice more than curiosity. It made sense—if her sight was this poor, an unfamiliar voice would startle anyone. Her tone was faint, as if it might vanish, her presence diluted. Was she trying to hide? Or had her limitations shrunk her world inward?
With the issue confirmed harmless, Kalen turned his gaze to the window. The estate's garden sprawled beautifully below.
"It seems your eyesight isn't great. Do you like the garden?"
"..."
"Strange. You heard my greeting just fine."
Kalen shifted to meet Eliana's eye level. Sky. That was the only word for her appearance. Blue as if dyed by clouds, her eyes were clearer than anything in the world. They suited her voice perfectly, he thought, straightening up. First, he needed to confirm if the mana overheating affected him too. That report took priority.
Kalen turned and walked away.
"W-Wait..."
The voice from behind was too soft to catch.
"Don't... go..."
In the silent room, Eliana murmured, stretching out an arm that barely obeyed her will. Her mind was a whirlwind.
What was that just now? It was closer than anyone had come in ages. She knew full well that voices needed to be right at the bedside to sound so clear.
An unfamiliar voice. Judging by the hazy shape, not Emma. Someone other than Emma had entered her room. How long had it been?
"Who..."
That word haunted her. She'd thought she'd overcome the pain of loneliness long ago. Yet one stranger shook her heart this much.
Why wouldn't it? It touched her deepest wound. At first, many had cared for her: the steward, head maid, servants, siblings. But as time passed, the cursed illness worsened. And horribly, their voices began to carry resentment.
She couldn't bear it. When fewer people knocked... she even felt a sliver of relief. The gnawing loneliness grew, but at least those dreadful voices faded.
In the end, only Emma remained. Seven years like that. The world outside became an unknown realm. Only the faint view through the window reminded her she was Eliana Rakatus.
But what was that? What was that person? The illness had grown beyond even her control. Yet their voice held no pain. More astonishing: being near them had cleared her head. Now, after they'd left, the fog returned.
The sudden gust of change left her flustered. That final hesitation had made her too late to hold on.
Eliana stared endlessly at the door. Toward the one who appeared from nowhere, tossed a spark of curiosity, and vanished. For the first time since being confined, it was the first time she'd gazed so long at something other than the window.
"It's... fine..."
"Yes."
"Ha, haha..."
Everchan let out a hollow laugh. He'd justified himself with position, circumstance—trifles. But one report shattered it all. He wasn't much of a father after all.
The renewed wind of hope felt so welcome.
"Forget it. Position be damned—even if I have to kneel, I will. Will you guard Eliana?"
Everything else was irrelevant now. Daughter over all. In that binary choice, he'd already made an irreversible decision. He could only be grateful for this chance.
Though the root problem remained unsolved. A father who couldn't grant his child's wish was too pathetic.
With that resolve, Everchan looked to Kalen. Thankfully, the response was what he'd hoped.
"What exactly do I need to do?"
"Have you heard of Winter Island in the north?"
"I've heard of it."
Winter Island in the north. Amid the snow-famous north, it was renowned for its stunning winterscapes. So unique it was dubbed "the flower blooming in hell."
Monsters, wars, harsh environment—befitting the empire's most dangerous spot, few visited. Yet it was often named a must-see before death.
"Take Eliana there. Just the two of you."
The meaning of camping with the apprentice maid clicked into place.
"Her eyes didn't look good. She probably won't see the scenery properly."
"That's not for me to judge. I asked Emma, who attends her. Her wish hasn't changed. She knows her eyes best—the meaning is for Eliana to find."
"I can't take responsibility either way. I'll be risking my life too."
"It would tear my heart out, but what can I do? It's her wish."
The talk continued to Eliana's complexion.
"...We've spoken too long. Anyway, learn caregiving from the head maid, and I'll arrange a carriage instructor."
"Understood."
Kalen rose to leave.
"Thank you."
Everchan's sincere voice halted him.
"Truly."
"Yes."
The family head's office door closed, but it reopened soon after.
"You called?"
"Estate manager Burn."
"Yes, my lord."
The chief overseer of estate and territory affairs. Burn entered.
Everchan's expression remained stern, but to the long-time aide, it felt different. Relief, joy, regret—emotions ill-suited to him, all mingled.
"Redirect this month's entire dignity maintenance fund."
"To where, my lord...?"
Everchan smiled gravely.
"To everything needed for her guard."