Chapter 23
Understanding
Winter’s land had finally embraced the height of summer.
Even the Rentus Castle, once so dark it seemed fit for ghosts, now looked like a place where people truly lived.
The first step had been removing the thick, dull winter drapes.
Broken windows and walls were all repaired, and the outer fortress—once blackened with soot—was scrubbed of every trace of war.
Under the sun, the castle now stood proudly as the heart of Danteor.
So fast.
Ninia felt the change everywhere. She couldn’t see it from her own room, but the view changed entirely when she climbed to the top of the Rentus tower.
Before dawn, while the sky still held a faint darkness, Ninia left her room.
She headed to the castle’s highest tower and unlocked the heavy padlock with a key.
At first, I wondered why he gave me this…
As she climbed the mossy stairs, her mind wandered.
The award she’d received recently was a double-purpose key.
One side opened the library—a sanctuary of knowledge where she spent long hours.
The other opened the tower, a use she hadn’t considered until now.
The tower…
Lost in her books, she had delayed coming here.
Whatever he gave her, she had decided to accept.
It was a matter of understanding.
The library key’s purpose was clear.
But why the tower?
The answer revealed itself only when she visited.
Creak.
At the top, she pushed open the old door.
Cool, damp air clung to her skin, and a thrill rose in her chest.
Ninia stepped to the broad, glassless window.
The faint dawn light revealed the lower buildings and gardens of Rentus like an old painting.
She was wrapped in a blue canvas of sky.
Beautiful.
Below lay the castle where she lived; farther out, the inner fortress and the outer town spread before her eyes.
Usually the scene was veiled in mist or white haze, but on clear days she could glimpse the distant forest.
She loved this view.
Each visit, the town looked different.
Watching the once-desolate homes quickly rebuilt reminded her of children’s wooden toys—and sometimes made her softly gasp.
Every day’s changing weather turned the scene into a living, mysterious painting.
She sighed as the sky brightened.
I won’t be able to come for a while.
It saddened her to think she would miss the unfolding summer.
Her fingers touched the key in her inner pocket.
Today, guests from the central capital were due to arrive—a reason she needed to stay discreet.
I can’t give them any pretext…
While they stayed, she would even avoid the library.
If a central noble saw what it held, rumors would spread.
I thought I’d never have to see a central noble again.
She realized how naive that thought had been.
Remembering where she once lived darkened her mood.
The visitors were an official delegation to congratulate the new Grand Duke of Danteor.
But no one, whether from the center or the north, truly wished him well.
Are they here to watch us?
Likely it was surveillance, not celebration.
The central government had long kept its ears and eyes on Danteor and now seemed to want a direct inspection.
An unpleasant duty—yet refusing them repeatedly would only give them more excuse.
Ninia thought of Tarahan, who had called these central nobles unwelcome guests.
Prepare yourself.
By “prepare,” Tarahan meant to greet the visitors.
Soon, she would have to meet them alone.
Her stomach knotted with tension.
Once, she had done such things daily.
Yet in only a few months it felt foreign.
Worse, Tarahan hadn’t told her exactly who was coming.
At least, she comforted herself, nobles chosen for the delegation wouldn’t be complete strangers.
It will be fine.
A small measure of anxiety lifted—only to be replaced by another thought.
While she gazed at the landscape, the image of Tarahan’s feet flickered in her mind.
What did he mean…?
Ninia had knelt many times: before the goddess’s statue, before high priests and clerics, or to meet a child’s eyes.
Kneeling itself meant little to her.
But kneeling before Tarahan was different.
Her knees had ached.
The air around them felt cold, yet deep inside, where his gaze touched, it burned.
Should I pick it up… or not?
That’s what his eyes had seemed to say.
Perhaps he knew her better than she imagined.
You really can’t stand not serving someone, can you—like a little dog.
At that memory, her hands tightened on her knees, beyond the reach of his eyes.
A cold sweat formed from the fear of revealing too much.
Yet she didn’t move.
Instead she lowered her gaze meekly.
Why doesn’t he get angry?
Exposing such a hidden side should have brought immediate rejection.
But he showed no disgust—only a quiet, watchful remark.
She could not know what thoughts lay behind his steady look.
Strangely, it pleased her:
that Tarahan, who seemed to despise her, had left even the smallest opening.
Ninia turned her eyes to the sky now flushing red beneath the dark blue veil of night.
It was time to return.
She turned from the open wall.
For now… I must focus only on welcoming the guests.
She forced her restless thoughts down.
Any mistake today was unacceptable.
Before full daylight, Ninia returned to her room.
She slipped the key from her pocket and hid it deep in a drawer.
Knock, knock.
Just as she closed it, came a knock.
The maids had arrived to help her dress.
“Pardon us,” Rosa said as she entered, other maids carrying a gown behind her.
They removed Ninia’s clothes and dressed her in the new gown.
Perfect fit.
She could tell without looking in the mirror.
The blue crinoline dress clung to her form unlike any she’d worn before.
After the day she’d been summoned to the office, a tailor had visited the castle, measuring every inch and asking about her preferred colors and fabrics.
Having no strong preferences, she’d simply asked for something appropriate to formal occasions.
Two weeks later, more than ten dresses arrived.
At first she was startled by the number, then doubted such fine gowns could be made in so little time.
But money, she reflected, always created miracles.
Running her hand over the luxurious fabric, she thought,
I must have truly looked like a ragamuffin.
Only Tarahan could have arranged this.
Clearly the sight of her old, rough clothing had bothered his eye.
She hadn’t thought herself so shabby, and the realization embarrassed her.
She accepted the fuss as his doing.
After the dress came hair and makeup.
Before leaving the room, Ninia paused before the mirror.
Once again, she looked every inch a noblewoman.
At least she wouldn’t be mistaken for someone in rags.
She recalled Tarahan’s words.
While deft hands worked on her, the butler’s voice came through the door.
“The honored guests have entered the outer fortress.”
By now, northern knights would have welcomed the central nobles and were escorting them toward the inner keep.
“All finished,” a maid announced.
It was time.
Makeup complete, Ninia rose from the stool.
With the butler leading, she walked to the grand lobby, her maids following in a line.
Keeping her face composed, she fixed her gaze ahead.
Soon, muffled noise seeped through the thick doors.
And then—the doors opened.
