The Tilamin Woman at Half Moon Castle
Half Moon Castle was a classical fortress built in an ancient style. Instead of a moat, sheer cliffs encircled it, and the steep slopes themselves formed part of its defenses.
Round watchtowers wore crenellated battlements like crowns, while the solid stone walls showed almost no architectural ornamentation beyond their arrow slits. It would have been difficult to call the structure beautiful, yet it was impeccably faithful to its function. Traces of repeated repairs and reinforcements marked its surface everywhere; those scars stood as proof of how long this valiant wall had endured in this place.
Two sentries stood guard atop the gatehouse. One of them recognized Nyx Farrow and his knights, hastily working the windlass. The other sprinted toward the inner keep to announce the duke’s return.
Having arrived earlier than scheduled, Nyx startled quite a few people. The one who sprang into the most frantic activity upon hearing the news was Half Moon Castle’s head butler, Joy Umberbel.
He set aside every task, gathered a cluster of young servants behind him, and came out to greet the party.
A truly excellent servant, after all, waits at his master’s side even before any order is given. The man who had been dashing about with his jacket flapping like wings now stood before them looking utterly unflustered.
“Have you returned safely, young master?”
He bowed with impeccable deference to welcome his lord.
“You have come back far sooner than the anticipated date.”
“Mm.”
Nyx answered offhandedly and tossed a thin sack to one of the servants. Whatever it contained was impossible to guess, but peering inside without permission would have been unforgivably rude.
“Where have all your many subordinates and trunks gone? To return looking so ragged and empty-handed…”
“Did something happen…?”
“No.”
Before the butler could finish his worried question, Nyx cut the concern away with a single blunt stroke.
“Something came up midway, so I took a shortcut alone. The rest are following at a slower pace.”
“What sort of matter…?”
As Nyx shed his outer coat, another servant smoothly accepted it.
“I ran into Abigail.”
“Pardon? Miss Abigail?”
“She asked me to lend her troops.”
Nyx snorted, still incredulous even now.
The tale of a man handing his army over to Abigail Belard and then fleeing with only two attendants was, indeed, a story no one could have predicted.
Leaving Umberbel standing with his mouth agape, Nyx calmly changed the subject.
“I crossed the mountains for the first time in a while. I’m tired.”
At his master’s declaration of fatigue, Joy Umberbel reacted at once.
“Yes, young master. I will have the bath drawn immediately.”
At the butler’s command, the servants paired off and moved with swift efficiency. The two youths who had taken the coat and sack hurried away to put the items in order.
They were the ones who crossed the threshold of his chambers more often than Nyx himself, wearing the floor smooth. They needed to prepare the bedroom in perfect condition before their master arrived at his leisurely pace.
Once he had dispatched the servants, the butler’s attention returned to Nyx.
“Ah… if I may, young master.”
Whether he had fought the Pig Prince, where he had sold his armor, why he was wrapped only in bandages—there were more than one or two odd details. Yet setting every other question aside, the single matter he most wanted to ask was obvious.
“This Tilamin woman… where did you acquire her?”
The butler spread both palms toward Tichite in indication. Though his courteous gesture pointed at her, his gaze never left his master.
Nyx glanced back at Tichite with a belated jolt of realization. The woman stood with a tense expression, hands politely clasped. He agonized for a moment over how to introduce her, then spoke.
“This friend’s name is Tichite.”
Nyx rested a hand awkwardly on her shoulder, as though trying to lend her strength through it.
But after that, words failed him.
If asked where he had brought her from, the answer was Saltcoast. Yet that was not the important part. They would want to know how they had met and why he had brought her all the way here, and that was far too complicated to explain neatly.
Nyx scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. How convenient it would have been if Desidero had been at his side. He could have dumped the entire explanation on the boy.
Nyx Farrow had never been the type to offer painstaking, detailed accounts of his opinions or intentions. His tongue operated far more simply than his mind; he tended to skip every intermediate step and deliver only the conclusion. This time was no different.
“There are circumstances. She will be staying in our castle from now on.”
Even a man as skilled at controlling his expression as Umberbel could not prevent his eyes from widening for the second time that day. The statement was far more shocking than the news that Nyx had happened to encounter Abigail.
A woman?
The butler wanted to ask for clarification, yet the words would not leave his mouth.
“Tichite, this is Joy Umberbel. He has lived in this castle longer than I have and knows everything there is to know. If you need help, go to him anytime and ask.”
As though openly bestowing such authority, Nyx gave Tichite’s shoulder a reassuring pat. Then he turned to Umberbel with a request of his own.
“Tichite is new to Loudhill and knows nothing. She won’t be accustomed to life away from her homeland, so look after her well and see that she suffers no discomfort.”
Umberbel’s mind grew exceedingly complicated at those words, but he showed none of it and answered with composure. If that was his master’s will, then so it would be.
“Yes, young master. Leave her in my care.”
And so Tichite truly did end up following Umberbel.
The butler’s primary duty was to instruct and manage the lower servants; Umberbel therefore interpreted Nyx’s entrusting the woman to him in exactly that light.
The horses had already been led to the stables while crossing the front courtyard, and both Zama and Milvian had returned to their proper places. The person Tichite had relied on most handed her over to Umberbel and departed.
With every familiar face taken from her, Tichite grew anxious.
“Half Moon Castle is shaped like a half-moon. Did you know? The gate you entered is the southern gate in the curved wall. Strictly speaking it faces southwest, but you will have no occasion to use it in the future. The servants’ entrance is separate. I will explain its location later. On the opposite side lies the northern gate. As you may have guessed, it faces precisely northeast.”
Umberbel walked on, teaching her the layout of Half Moon Castle in bits and pieces. Each time he pointed with the blade of his hand, Tichite nodded steadily to show she understood.
Even so, her eyes darted about restlessly. The castle felt less like a building and more like an entire world. The ceiling rose endlessly high; the soaring pillars resembled a giant’s calves. Whenever circles of light spilled from above, Tichite found herself tilting her head back to stare upward without realizing it. Skylights pierced the layered dome roof, so distant and dizzying that she felt her soul might be drawn into them.
The elaborately decorated plaster ceiling gleamed with complex patterns and colors. From the corners to the center, each section boasted its own rules and charms that captured the gaze.
Yet what impressed her most was the ceiling mural—how had anyone painted such a thing up there? The goddess and horse rendered on the plaster had lost some of their color, yet they still radiated a sacred atmosphere that retained its elegant beauty.
His religious devotion must have taken root in his mother’s womb.
Tichite finished her observation with a somewhat irreverent thought.
Half Moon Castle was truly, boundlessly vast. Only after walking a good while longer did they climb a crude wooden staircase only slightly better than a ladder. There they came upon a rather small, plain plank door.
“This is the one. From now on, the doors and corridors you will use are on this side.”
It was tall enough for an adult to pass through without stooping; had it belonged to any other house, it would have seemed perfectly ordinary. Yet after the excessively heavy, massive iron doors they had passed earlier, it inevitably felt no larger than a mouse hole.
The butler opened the door and ushered Tichite outside, then followed and closed it behind them. Stepping through, she was met with a vista that made her keenly aware of how thoroughly this was the outermost edge of Half Moon Castle.