Three months.
The pitch-black night had passed, giving way to a new dawn.
Even the shadows, once too deep for candlelight to penetrate, were receding with the rising sun.
The air, crisp and cool, hung heavy with the scent of approaching spring.
A gentle breeze caressed my cheek, carrying with it a hint of the changing seasons.
A solitary snowflake, a fleeting reminder of the winter that had held sway for so long.
But winter’s reign was coming to an end.
The world, as if in deference to the inevitable, seemed to hold its breath, enveloped in an almost eerie silence.
I stood by the window, gazing out at the landscape.
“…”
The window was wide open, allowing the breeze to flow freely into the room.
I savored the sensation of the cool air against my skin.
It had become a new habit of mine, this ritual of greeting the day with the wind at my back.
I allowed myself a moment of quiet contemplation.
“…I’m not as tired as I thought I’d be.”
I had spent the night by Margaret’s side, watching over her as she slept, but I felt strangely energized.
Perhaps it was because I had finally confronted the ghosts of the past, the guilt and regret that had haunted me for so long.
A weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
For a moment, I felt a surge of relief, a sense of peace I hadn’t realized I was capable of feeling.
But I quickly pushed it down.
"Get ahold of yourself, Raiden."
The vow I had made yesterday echoed in my mind.
It was a promise to break free from the cycle of tragedy, a commitment to embrace the warmth that remained in my world, not just for Margaret, but for myself as well.
It was a vow that marked a new beginning, a fresh start.
In that moment of breaking free, I had made a pact with myself to embrace the future.
"Let's make today count."
With a deep, fortifying breath, I turned away from the window.
Regardless of who I was yesterday, today demanded my presence, my strength.
***
"Eat your fill, Young Master Lishite. Our chef has outdone himself today in anticipation of your satisfaction."
"Your kindness is appreciated, Your Grace."
A Polite conversation flowed between us.
I sat at the dining table, gracefully maneuvering my cutlery.
I had accepted Raymond's invitation to join them for dinner.
"Is it to your liking?"
"It's exquisite."
"I'm glad to hear that."
At first glance, the scene was no different from the first dinner we shared.
Except for one crucial difference.
"Lady Margaret."
"Ah... Y-Yes?"
Margaret was seated beside me.
The silver-haired girl flinched at the sudden address, her words stumbling out in a rare display of nervousness.
I offered her a small, reassuring smile.
It seemed she was still adjusting to being outside her room after being confined for so long.
'…Was I being too hasty?'
Seeing her fidgeting, her shoulders hunched as if carrying an invisible weight, a pang of guilt resonated within me.
It was I who had insisted on bringing Margaret to the dining room.
Worried about her persistent refusal to leave her room, I asked if she would join us for dinner.
At first, she hesitated, but eventually, unable to refuse my request, she agreed.
She was still overly conscious of my presence, her every move guarded, her demeanor fragile, as if she might shatter at any moment.
The sight of her vulnerability sent a wave of bitterness through me.
But I couldn't leave her to her own devices.
I knew better than anyone that seeking solace in shadows only deepened the wounds of the heart.
Healing required a measured dose of noise, light, and warmth.
I had learned that lesson the hard way.
"I hear you've been skipping meals lately, Lady Margaret. I'm concerned for your health. Please, eat a little more."
"Ah, I... I'm fine..."
"I'm not."
"But..."
Margaret tried to decline, claiming a lack of appetite, but I wasn't letting her off so easily.
The weaker one felt, the more crucial it was to nourish the body.
I picked up a piece of steak with my fork and offered it to her.
If she didn't accept it, I was prepared to hand-feed her.
I knew she hadn't eaten anything in two days. I couldn't just sit here and do nothing.
"Please, eat."
My voice was firm.
"I'll feed you myself."
"R-Raiden...?!"
She was clearly taken aback by my unexpected action.
Her crimson eyes, usually vacant, widened in surprise.
I pressed on, determined to make her eat.
"Open your mouth."
"W-Wait, just a moment...! This is...!"
"I won't touch my own food until you take a bite, Lady Margaret."
My tone left no room for argument.
I had made up my mind.
I had welcomed this delicate flower into my care, and it was my duty to ensure it wouldn't wither away.
I had made a promise.
This time, I wouldn't let her go.
"My, my."
"Goodness."
The Duke and Duchess, seated across from us, exchanged amused glances, their eyes twinkling with curiosity.
But I paid them no heed.
At that moment, the only thing that mattered was Margaret.
I wished she wouldn't hurt.
I wished she wouldn't cry.
I wished she wouldn't blame herself.
I wished she wouldn't lose her appetite or be plagued by nightmares because of me.
Perhaps it was selfish, but I just wanted her to be happy, just like I had wished when we were children.
"Please, eat."
"A-Ah... Mm..."
Margaret's face flushed crimson, her cheeks resembling a blooming rose.
She hesitated for a moment longer but then, as if touched by my sincerity, she parted her lips tentatively.
I waited patiently.
Until, finally, her mouth opened fully.
"Ah... Aah..."
With a mortified expression, Margaret accepted the bite.
It was understandable that she felt embarrassed.
Such an intimate gesture must have been unfamiliar to her.
Yet, she had found the courage to comply.
For me.
Because she knew I wouldn't give up.
Touched by her gesture, I instinctively reached out.
"Good girl."
My hand came to rest on her silver hair, my fingers threading through the silky strands.
Despite her exhaustion, her hair remained soft and smooth.
The sensation was strangely addictive.
As I continued to stroke her hair, a soft, breathy sound reached my ears.
"Ah, uhm..."
It was then that I realized my misstep.
Margaret's gaze was fixed on me, her face now not just flushed but practically glowing, her eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and something else I couldn't quite place.
"...Ah."
I had been spending too much time indulging Ariel's need for affection lately.
It seemed my subconscious had blurred the lines, leading to this unintentional display.
I withdrew my hand, but the damage was done.
"Uhm, ah...?"
Margaret was speechless, like a deer caught in headlights.
Her crimson eyes, now shimmering with unshed tears, darted around the room.
I tried to offer words of comfort, but it was too late.
"I-I apologize, Lady Margaret... That was entirely inappropriate of me..."
"H-hic... Sniff..."
She began to cry softly, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
Even amidst her tears, the sight of her diligently chewing the piece of steak I had fed her was endearing.
I stifled a chuckle.
Laughing now would only exacerbate her embarrassment.
"Excuse me, Lady Margaret."
I spent the rest of the meal trying to soothe her while maintaining a semblance of composure.
The atmosphere around us was far from tranquil.
But despite the commotion, I felt a sense of ease I hadn't expected.
When I first received Raymond's invitation, I had been filled with apprehension.
But now, having confronted the most agonizing knot in my heart, a sense of calm had settled over me.
The feeling of walking on a razor's edge had subsided, replaced by a newfound lightness.
'…What about you?'
I wondered if Margaret felt it too.
This sense of relief, this momentary respite from the weight of our shared past.
I hoped that as she looked around, taking in the sights and sounds of our surroundings, she might find a moment of peace.
'I hope you can heal, too.'
After all, she now carried the burden of my pain as well.
It was my deepest wish that she wouldn't succumb to the darkness that had once threatened to consume me.
'May you find your way back to the light.'
With that silent prayer, I faced each day, one step at a time.
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