Chapter 29
“You can’t imagine how shocked I was when I realized I couldn’t run anymore, even though all that was left to do was run. Still, I ran anyway. I kept moving my legs, and somehow, I began to gain a little speed. I thought it would be the end if I got caught—but also that if I didn’t run now, I’d never get another chance. It felt like people were chasing me, right behind me even… but I kept running. I didn’t stop.”
As he spoke, it seemed like he was reliving that moment all over again.
Still, once he began, he was determined to finish the story. He said that from then on, he made his way to the royal capital to find Beatrice.
“I just hoped Beatrice was safe. I started asking around. I thought it would be hard to find her, but there were people who knew that Beatrice had become Her Majesty the Queen’s new chief lady-in-waiting. Once I heard that, I came straight to the capital.”
From that point on, I could more or less piece the story together myself.
“Over time… I started to think everything was my fault. All of it. I couldn’t protect Pelmon. And sometimes I even wondered, ‘Why did this have to happen just because I was Pelmon’s prince?’ Thoughts like that, endless and relentless, kept coming to me.”
“It’s not your fault, Luzenbik.”
When I said that, he gave a quiet smile.
It upset me, somehow, to think that my words probably weren’t helping him—but I still thought it was fortunate that I could be by his side while he spoke.
“Hestia, you’re a really good person. To a baffling degree. And you’re strong and brave, too. You broke free from something you didn’t want. You got rid of the people you didn’t want in your life, in your own way. You made sure they couldn’t continue to influence your life anymore.”
He glanced at me as he said this.
I felt grateful that he would speak about me like that.
“Beatrice really admired you, you know. But maybe that’s why I resented you more. Sure, the fact that you’re Maydern’s daughter played a part… but when I watched Beatrice talk about you, it felt like… I don’t know. Like the little sister who only ever looked up to me had suddenly grown up and discovered a world I didn’t know—and now knew more than I ever could.”
He seemed to be struggling to articulate his feelings clearly.
I hadn’t realized that what he felt toward me was something like that.
And only then did I start to really understand Luzenbik’s heart.
To him, Beatrice had been the one person he could trust completely. He’d rushed here believing she would be waiting for him, thinking he needed to protect her—only to find her comfortably nestled in the shelter I had created.
He might have felt deflated. Even betrayed.
As if he had crossed hell and high water to return to a child he’d left behind—only to find that child smiling warmly in someone else’s arms.
Luzenbik fell silent and continued diligently harvesting herbs.
It was growing darker, but the firelight was just enough to make out our surroundings.
It gave the moment a kind of mystical feeling.
It felt as though only the two of us existed in the world.
In the pitch-black darkness, the only visible things were our faces—so of course it felt that way.
“Aren’t you tired, Hestia? You must be. It must’ve been hard, especially since you were so surprised. It’s the first time you’ve run like that, right?”
Luzenbik spoke as he paused his movements.
He looked like he could keep going, but seemed to be stopping for my sake.
“Luzenbik, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, please continue. I’m not even doing anything strenuous, so it’s not tiring for me.”
“Still…”
“It’s really okay. If I get tired, I’ll tell you.”
“We don’t have anything to eat anyway. Might be best to just sleep. Hunting’s out of the question for now.”
“But… are there really wild animals in this forest? If so, why aren’t they showing up?”
He chuckled at my question.
“What?”
“I’m keeping them away. A few of them are wandering around, watching us.”
I looked at him, not immediately understanding what he meant.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s something you can do once you can control mana to a certain degree.”
But it wasn’t something that just anyone with basic mana control could do.
I was genuinely amazed at Luzenbik’s skill.
I had heard Cassiana Erkan mention his swordsmanship once—but I guess I still had my own biases.
Biases rooted in the fact that he was the prince of a fallen kingdom.
Because he had lost, I assumed his swordsmanship, no matter how impressive, couldn’t have been enough to win a war or save his people.
Luzenbik didn’t elaborate further. He simply smiled.
I wondered if he had sensed what I was thinking, and felt a pang of guilt.
I realized I had been judging his difficult, survival-filled life too lightly and too quickly.
“We should wrap up here for today. Let’s move these to the wagon. Can you hold the light for me, Hestia?”
As he spoke, I held up the light, and he shifted positions.
He seemed to be calculating how to prevent the light from spilling too far.
In that short time, he had gathered a surprising amount.
I asked if all of it was dry wyvern root, a little amazed at how much he’d collected without moving around much.
“It is, Hestia.”
He stood, holding it all in his arms.
We had left in such a hurry, we hadn’t prepared much of anything.
We should’ve at least brought sacks or bags, but hadn’t even managed that.
“Yeah, we should stop here for today. Once it’s morning, you’ll probably be able to help, too.”
I complained that my hands were stuck carrying the firelight, so I couldn’t help, and he looked over at me.
“You want to help carry them, Hestia?”
“Of course. If we do it together, we’ll save time.”
“With those arms?”
The way Luzenbik assumed I wouldn’t be of any use made me want to prove something—but I reminded myself this wasn’t the time for a show of strength, so I let it go.
I followed him back and forth between the collection site and the wagon, holding the light. Even that alone was surprisingly tiring.
When he had first spoken, I’d told him I was fine without much thought, but now the tension from hearing the king had arrived and the frantic running had finally caught up with me.
He must’ve noticed my slowing pace, because he glanced at me.
“You’re tired, aren’t you, Hestia? Want to call it a day? There’s not much left anyway.”
“No, there’s no need. We can’t just leave all this after going to the trouble to collect it.”
“Who’s going to come steal it?”
He laughed, and I realized something: Luzenbik had started to laugh quite often.
Sharing his story seemed to have helped him.
“We really should’ve brought something to cover up with. The mountains get cold at night. Aren’t you cold, Hestia?”
“I’m fine.”
I was, honestly, a bit cold—but I figured it was something I could endure.
Then Luzenbik took off his cloak and wrapped it around me.
“You don’t have to do this.”
I felt bad, knowing he had to be cold too, but he told me not to worry about him.
“People don’t really understand mana, but those who can use it are different from regular folks. They feel the cold less. In theory, they can even endure hunger. I’m not quite at that level yet, though.”
I found that fascinating, and he told me to get some rest, then stepped outside.
He sat on the coachman’s seat, clearly planning to keep watch through the night.
I felt bad for him—after everything, even now he couldn’t rest. He had run even more than I had and still refused to sleep.
Knowing Beatrice’s stubbornness, I figured he wouldn’t be easily persuaded to change his mind.
I tried to fall asleep, but the more time passed, the more alert I became.
I started thinking about life here.
Nothing had gone the way I’d imagined—but things had turned out far better than I had planned.
If someone asked me whether I had any regrets about coming here, I’d have to say no.
Life in the world I left behind felt like hell, day by day.
Up until graduation, I’d thought everything would be fine once I got my degree. But the moment I was thrown into society, I entered another kind of hell called employment.
And the worst part? That wasn’t even the end.
I saw people around me, people who had fought so hard to get jobs, quit and walk away again—and I realized this endless struggle never stopped.
It was like being trapped in a spinning wheel that just kept turning, forever.
In that sense, maybe it was a blessing that I ended up in this world.
There aren’t many moments in life when we can say we were truly happy—and even though I might’ve had a little more happiness back then, it wouldn’t have lasted. Eventually, it would’ve faded, and I’d have found myself sighing again, crushed under reality.
Maybe this was for the best. However I ended up here…
That thought quietly crossed my mind.
I considered opening the window, but worried it would be too cold—so I left it shut.
And suddenly, the space around me started to feel like a small prison.
Or maybe “coffin” would be a better word for it.
