Hiatt Arc 02 - Chapter 031: The Final Line of Trust
“Lady.”
It was late at night. A silence had settled over the snowy plains so profound that even the breathing of passing birds could be faintly heard. Even though he'd called out from outside the tent, and she'd replied from within, her voice rang out crystal clear—undoubtedly because of that stillness.
“What is it?”
“You're still awake?”
“I can't sleep.”
Selasier's expression during the meeting had been poor. For her to say she had no allies on her side—Selasier had lost her supporters once again. It would be strange if she wasn't troubled.
“And you're uncomfortable too, aren't you, Kalen? Shall we leave now?”
“Not particularly.”
“Liar.”
Recalling Selasier's expression, Kalen looked up at the moon hanging quietly in the sky. The moonlight shining beautifully over the hushed silence was quite striking.
“About Makbel.”
With that, Kalen broached the sensitive topic. No matter how he thought about it, Selasier's wound seemed deep. There had been several such moments, and the perceptive Kalen had tactfully pretended not to notice out of consideration for her. It appeared she was trying hard to cover it up. Selasier seemed to be soothing her own heart, telling herself it was fine, forcing herself to forget the hurt.
Was it right to unearth that carefully hidden wound and rub salt in it? If he only wanted Selasier to be happy, perhaps that would be the way. But the path she had chosen was the opposite—a harsh road. If she truly wished to win the civil war and save the North, she had to face it.
“How long have you been on the same side?”
“Let's see, I didn't keep exact track, but it's been a while. Not long after the civil war started, he came to me saying he wanted to help.”
“What about Knight Captain Craderus?”
“Craderus... When our forces were short on manpower, I had to calm him down after he got excited seeing the carriage. It was old, and its performance wasn't great, but he insisted on riding it all the way here.”
That carriage we took to the Hiatt estate, Kalen thought, then chuckled softly without realizing it. It was to lighten the mood before diving into the heavy talk. Some mental preparation was necessary, after all.
“I've only been in the North and protecting you for a short time, so I hesitate to say this...”
“What is it?”
“That man. I think it's best to keep your distance.”
Once again, the silence of the snowy plains descended. Kalen drew courage from it and continued.
“He suggested something too dangerous. If clearing out monsters was as easy as it sounds—enough to win people's hearts—the North would have done it long ago.”
“...”
“Even if the Grand Duke now is trash who favors his son, I don't think there's any strategy in advising something the previous Grand Duke couldn't accomplish. Lady.”
Selasier's voice, when it came, was as gentle and soft as ever. But there was a hint of hesitation, like she was forcibly holding back a tremor.
“Is that all?”
“Young Master Torun.”
Kalen half-closed his eyes, which had been gazing at the moonlight.
“The way Makbel refers to Young Master Torun was strange.”
That was the odd point Kalen had noticed. It wouldn't seem strange for someone who had long served the Hiatt family to use honorifics with the family's young master. However, with Selasier right there—both in the midst of a civil war, scheming to turn the tide of defeat—referring to the opponent with respect was clearly suspicious. There was no need for it. Even if it was unconscious, Makbel had said quite some time had passed since he joined her side. For using honorifics to become habit, it had to be consistent. Kalen could only conclude that Makbel had been continually addressing Torun that way.
And on top of that, the dangerous alternative he'd suggested. In the special circumstances of a civil war, Kalen's thoughts couldn't flow in a positive direction.
Having laid bare the wound, Kalen quietly waited for her response. It was some time later that her gentle, soft voice returned, now slightly lowered.
“I know.”
“...Pardon?”
“I know. That Makbel's behavior is a bit off.”
It was only natural. If even Kalen, who hadn't known him long, had noticed, it was absurd to think Selasier—who had spent years with him—hadn't. Moreover, trust was a false promise held by the blind with hope. With that definition, Selasier had closed the door to her heart. There was no reason to think specially of Makbel.
Yet she turned a blind eye. Even though she'd noticed Makbel's odd behavior, she ignored it. That was her last hope, the one she didn't want to let go—the final line allowing her to remain herself. The moment she acknowledged betrayal by Makbel, it felt like she'd lose it all. Selasier simply couldn't release that hand. She knew what followed was endless darkness. She knew the hand clutching that final line was merely holding on, in utter ruin. If she let even this go, she feared what would become of her mind and heart. Out of that terror, she trembled, gripping tightly and shutting her eyes.
What would the moment of betrayal by one's oldest trust feel like? Though she'd grown quite accustomed to it by now, she didn't want to face that instant.
Thus, this paradoxical relationship was born. Selasier knew. Makbel's actions were suspicious, likely connected to what she feared. That's why she looked away. She was too afraid to confront the truth of that truth.
The moment she learned her father favored her brother. The moment she saw those she thought were her people attempt assassination while she slept. Repeated, again and again. The 'her people,' once nearly a few hundred strong, were now not even dozens.
“Then what should I do?”
The etiquette her brother had forcibly drilled into her wavered. If she maintained even this, would betrayals decrease? The mask she'd always worn shook violently.
Moonlight poured beautifully over the snowy plains. Upon it loomed the fragile, trembling wounds of the girl.
“If I admit all my relationships are false.”
The moment the girl shut the walls of her heart. What remained was distrust. To avoid hurt, she didn't trust. She used them before being betrayed. But the more she did, the only outcome was her people leaving.
“What should I do?”
The girl had learned to forget pain with more pain.
“Does it mean not all relationships are false?”
Selasier was startled. Had she been swept up in the mood? She'd revealed her innermost thoughts, never shared with anyone. And she'd expected Kalen to offer clumsy comfort, poorly trying to understand.
You can't know without experiencing it. Selasier didn't believe anyone could understand her wounds.
Yet Kalen spoke calmly, matter-of-factly.
“Why should Makbel be the last?”
He remembered the story Selasier had shared with him. Theirs wasn't a relationship born of trust, but a simple promise of mutual understanding. Kalen had promised for the Hiatt family's aid, and Selasier for her protection until the civil war's end. There were true reasons she hadn't told him, but it certainly hadn't started with trust.
However, a promise. A promise presupposes trust. A relationship of mutual reliance, laying one's heart bare.
If Selasier needed trust, she didn't have to wander seeking pure faith.
“Don't bind yourself to pure trust, Lady. Think of the promise between us as one form of trust.”
“How...!”
“Why not?”
Kalen asked as if genuinely puzzled.
“You want to win the civil war, drive out Young Master Torun, and save the North. Falling for an obvious trap is less sensible than a child throwing a tantrum.”
To Kalen, this involved the Dranus family as well. He had more than enough reason to go this far for Selasier. Since he'd taken on her protection from the start, excluding danger was best.
“Is your relationship with Makbel your final line? Then hand that line to me. I'll gladly bear it.”
“No...”
“I know it didn't start with trust. But that can't be the reason. Trust is something you build, after all.”
Had he followed Blamia out of trust? Thrown himself for Sinat out of trust? Refused to dodge for Eliana out of trust? None of it. It was the accumulation of memories with them that created it. Trust and faith don't arise in an instant. They solidify slowly, layer by layer. Even without trust as the foundation.
If Selasier thirsted for trust, they could build it. By tossing her final line to Kalen, shifting the end to a new beginning. Selasier wouldn't fall into danger. She'd recognize Makbel's words as a trap and reject them.
“If you want to win the civil war—if that's truly what you desire.”
That was enough. Kalen was, after all, Selasier's protector. He blocked the dangers she faced.
“Hand me the line you drew with Makbel, and do it properly. Don't play the victim to a known trap.”
Kalen fully closed his half-lidded eyes. Some time later, with her words of agreement.