Chapter 22
Like an old, faded photograph, a distant day from childhood drifts into mind.
In those weathered, worn-down memories, I don’t think I was very happy.
I was far too young to endure the coldness of the world, and I had nothing to stand on my own. The only thing I could do was keep holding on, stubbornly.
And then, into my life, seeped a small warmth—like a ray of gentle light.
Through that warmth at my fingertips, I realized the world could still be kind.
“This is our home.”
The one who called it family was you.
“Since it’s our home, you can always come back whenever you want.”
The one who said I could lean on them was also you.
“I’ll always be here, Kanoe!”
I believed those words.
If you thought you could deceive me again with such pretty lies, then that would be a terrible mistake.
“Nuna, the client’s in that room.”
Lucas jerked his chin toward an old wooden door. We had descended deep through twisting staircases to a place so quiet that even the presence of other sailors couldn’t be felt.
“Hey, Nuna. Don’t you think the world is so unfair?”
Lucas whispered as though sharing a secret. The eerie stillness of the place made me hold my breath, too.
“I mean, I’m the one who brought you here, but the captain’s gonna pocket the entire payment.”
He grumbled, but for all that serious tone, the complaint was ridiculously trivial. Or maybe… not so trivial after all.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it~”
Lucas waved his hand lazily and turned on his heel. His footsteps creaked along the old floorboards, growing distant.
At the same time, I pushed open the door.
Beyond the wooden door, the cabin glowed dimly under a hazy lantern light.
Maps and a tattered pirate flag hung on the walls, swaying slightly in the breeze. On the worn table, half-finished drinks and scattered writing tools lay in disarray.
At the very center of the room, a man lounging in a large chair slowly lifted his head.
Eyes the color of melted chocolate gleamed with an unusual intensity.
The client who had summoned me—Rev Valentir—gently parted his lips.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Kanoe.”
He set down the small silver goblet in his hand and offered me a soft smile.
“Rev.”
I exhaled his name like a sigh. He hadn’t changed. His features were still sharp, his attire neat and immaculate.
Ever since we were young, he was always like this—prim and proper. Only, what used to be thoroughness and attention to detail had, with age, turned into an obsession with perfection.
He was still smiling that warm smile. At first glance, it seemed gentle and kind, but the truth behind it was never easy to read.
Even in the courtroom that day, Rev had smiled just like this.
“Kanoe. You…”
Through the strands of his light brown hair that had fallen across his face, our eyes met. His gaze trailed slowly—painfully slowly—down my figure.
Then, like an exhale, words slipped past his lips.
“…Why are you so thin?”
What a ridiculous question. After everything I’ve been through, did he really think I’d look the same?
My brows knitted tightly. Maybe I should have punched him the moment I walked in.
“And your hair—what happened? Did you dye it to hide? You’re not hurt, are you? You’re not sick, right?”
The barrage of questions made my head throb. Anyone would think he’d found a long-lost family member. I fought the urge to cover my ears, and then a thought struck me.
No. Not yet… It hasn’t happened yet.
The Rev Valentir who ignored me when I was thrown into prison—he wasn’t this man. The one who cast his vote for my execution in court—he wasn’t this man either.
They were the same person, yet different. If it hasn’t happened yet, do I even have the right to resent him?
“Have you been eating? No—are you really okay?”
His gaze brushed past my face, skimming over my wind-tangled hair.
It was a gentle concern, unchanged from the past.
Yes. When I think about it, he really hasn’t changed.
“You know something, Rev?”
“…What?”
He reached his hand out toward me—but stopped midway. His fingertips trembled faintly.
“If you really cared about me, you wouldn’t have called me here like this.”
“…What are you talking about, Kanoe?”
“Called me? No—you’d have come to me first. You found me here, so that wouldn’t have been so hard, would it?”
Rev’s expression faltered.
The warmth and worry drained from his face, leaving only confusion. He had no idea what I was talking about.
“Kanoe, you know why I couldn’t just come running. Too many eyes are watching. That’s why I—”
I cut him off with a crooked smile.
“So you hired pirates to kidnap me instead?”
“…”
“You plan to convince me to go back to Karkere Prison, don’t you?”
That struck a nerve. The calm mask he wore began to crack.
“…Then why did you jump off the prison ship?”
His voice was low, heavy. His eyes, shadowed and sunken, locked onto me with something that almost looked like grief.
Even then, Rev didn’t deny that he intended to send me back to prison.
“I’ve wanted to ask you that all this time. No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t understand.”
His voice trembled, breaking the iron composure he’d been clinging to. His emotions were on the brink of spilling over.
“You told me to trust you.”
He never once took his eyes off me as he spoke again.
“I could have fixed everything! But you ruined it all.”
Each word was carved deep, carried on a desperate, aching tone.
“Was I really that unreliable to you? So much that you had to leap off that ship?”
Yes. He really did say that.
Just hold on a little longer, okay? I’ll figure something out.
Over and over again, through the looping years, that was all he ever said.
“Good. You haven’t changed.”
I laughed. Finally, the weight in my chest eased.
He was the same person, after all. He hadn’t turned his back on me yet, hadn’t voted for my death yet—but Rev Valentir would make the same choice in the end.
“Yeah. You weren’t reliable enough. I had to find my own way. Don’t you think?”
“…”
“What if I waited for you to save me and ended up dying of old age?”
Even my joke didn’t draw the faintest smile from him. Not that I expected it—he clearly wasn’t in the mood.
“…So, you joined hands with that man?”
Rev asked, like it was beyond comprehension.
“Ian Frederick.”
Why was Ian’s name coming up now? But then it hit me—of course.
Rev hated that I’d escaped. And the fact that Ian had helped me? That must have made it worse for him.
“You’ve been pretending to be lovers for mutual gain—I can tell.”
After a pause, he added:
“I figured you might. You’re quick to judge, Kanoe.”
“…”
“And you happened to find someone whose interests aligned with yours.”
Rev Valentir knew me too well.
His words pierced through me with unnerving accuracy. That’s how much time we’d spent together—he knew exactly how I thought.
“But tell me this, Kanoe. How is he any different from me?”
Rev leaned in slowly. His fingers stilled on the table, then grazed against my cheek.
“In the end, I was trying to help you too. Why can’t you see that?”
He was saying that he, like Ian, had only reached out his hand to me.
“….”
The touch sparked a surge of discomfort, and the words spilled out of me before I could stop them.
“That newspaper article—it’s true.”
Yes. Maybe our relationship was nothing more than a calculated alliance.
But to lump Ian in with Rev like that? I couldn’t stomach it—not as someone who had once called Rev a comrade.
Because Ian Frederick wasn’t that kind of man.
He wasn’t calculating. He didn’t measure every move. He was reckless sometimes—reckless and honest to a fault.
Ian was… nothing like you, Rev.
“We did fall for each other on that ship.”
Rev’s eyes wavered. I spoke firmly.
“Stop talking carelessly about the person I love.”
Maybe the one using this fake relationship… isn’t Ian.
Maybe it’s me.
