Chapter 113
When their eyes met, Ellen quickly lowered her head. Up close, her hair looked patchy. The places where the dye had taken were black, and the parts it hadn’t touched were brown. The girl fidgeted with her hair, seemingly embarrassed, and when she found nowhere to hide it, she simply bowed her head deeply.
Tarahan just watched her quietly. He had vowed to find Ellen. But after that, he could think of nothing.
He wanted to reach out, but hesitated. He had no skill in gentleness. He considered mimicking what Ninia did with the child, but the awkward attempt would probably only make her resent him. The Emerald Forest, where the leaves reflected the sunlight, was tranquil. He didn’t want to offer only silence to Ellen.
“Let’s go back.”
After much thought, that was all he could say. Ellen, who had been staring at the ground, finally looked up at him. Now he could see her face clearly. She had grown a little, and her face, slightly rounder, resembled Ninia even more.
Ellen pressed her lips together tightly. Like Ninia, she shook her head.
“…I can’t go.”
The child, who had run like fire upon seeing a familiar face, briefly forgot her own mistakes. The luxurious banquet hall she first stepped into had been dizzying. People adorned like cakes reached out to her, seeking blessings.
The child, following what she had been taught, raised her hand above them—but what she received in return was cold contempt and the mistaken accusation of cursing.
Among the shifting gazes, the one thing that remained constant was the person she had been desperately waiting for. Memories of her mother came flooding back. Just by looking into those eyes, she knew. And at the same time, she realized clearly what she had done.
‘This happened because I had bad thoughts.’
Was the angel really an angel? In truth, Ellen had known from the beginning that person was dangerous. That they had seemed beautiful was because the child needed a savior.
“…I did something bad to Mom.”
Altahaf had staked Ninia’s life against Ellen. Ultimately, leaving her mother’s side, her mother being put in danger—it was all because of her.
‘I ruined everything.’
Her tearful eyes shook toward him. The person Ellen had wronged wasn’t only Ninia. She had also broken the promise made to him. She had said she could wait quietly—but ultimately, her mistrust and inability to wait had led to this.
She wanted to apologize, but her lips only trembled. In truth, she was afraid she might not be forgiven.
Once more, the child lowered her head. Tarahan bent down beside her and gently tidied her hair from the level of her eyes.
“Ninia doesn’t blame you.”
Her blue eyes flickered at his words. Bewildered, her pupils sought the hope conveyed by his voice.
“She will forgive you.”
“…How do you know that, Your Grace?”
Tarahan let out a faint smile at the child’s almost angry question. Even that made her shoulders shrink, but he wrapped his hand around her shoulder, as if saying she didn’t have to be afraid. The warmth between them became a bridge.
What Ellen said was exactly what Ninia had once said when she had lost her memory. The child was kind, upright, and stubborn in her own way. As the thick fog lifted, Ellen became clear to him.
The resemblance to Ninia, the small body moving with life, the high, bright voice—all of it began to reach him.
Ah, now he could see.
This was what Ninia had wanted to show him. His body moved before his mind. He wiped the moisture from the child’s eyes with his thumb. His fingertips carried a faint dampness and the warmth unique to the child.
He wanted to paint a rainbow over her tearful face. Ellen saw him. Facing her, his hatred for himself vanished. When her blue eyes opened wide, he could finally smile.
“Because I love her too.”
At Tarahan’s words, Ellen’s lips, which had been tightly closed, parted. The child’s gaze was caught by the rare honest expression of the usually sharp, cold adult.
In truth, she had always wanted to ask him something—but she had never had the courage to confront the adult who constantly tried to look away. Now, she felt it might be okay. Her heart began to beat faster.
“Are you my dad, Your Grace?”
It was the first time she had asked anyone other than her mother. The trembling, whether excitement or fear, heated her body. A warmer hand gently cupped her flushed cheek.
“If that’s what you want.”
“…If I don’t want that, then you’re not my dad?”
The ambiguous answer disappointed the child. As Tarahan slowly shook his head, hope rekindled in her eyes. The more he met her gaze, the more guilt surged in him—he wanted to rip out his own head in shame.
‘I tried to kill this child.’
Ellen could look at him with such eyes because she didn’t know. He was reaching out to the child he once tried to eliminate. No matter what atonement he made, the past could not be erased. But he would never turn away again.
He held the child’s hand, seeking permission.
“I guess I’ll have to wait until you allow it.”
Ellen’s eyes widened at his words. Merely having his blood flow through her wasn’t enough to earn the right to be her father. The void she had felt since her birth would only collapse after he healed all the wounds he had inflicted.
“It might take a long time. But will you keep waiting?”
The clever child quietly put her hands behind her back, frowning. Her slightly lowered eyes sparkled with uncontainable joy. The adult and child took their first step toward each other.
“Yes. I’ll stay by your side and hers.”
Hearing him mention Ninia again made Ellen nervous, but the child regained her courage. She reached out her hand to him.
“Take me to Mom.”
Piechen was engulfed in civil war. Neighboring nations had received firearms, a magical tool, from Piechen’s crown prince, and they had signed agreements not to intervene in the empire’s internal conflict.
Only the Piechen royal family lacked firearms. The royal household, starting with the empress, began to fragment piece by piece. Nobles, quick to sense the shifting winds, aligned themselves strategically. The civil war was rushing toward its conclusion.
The safest and calmest area in Piechen was the northern Danteor Territory. Unlike the central region, ravaged by power struggles, Danteor seemed like another country entirely.
As the northern region was known for its firearms production, curiosity was high about how many weapons remained there. The royal family had no energy to extend control to the north, and neighboring nations held back, waiting to receive their firearms after the war.
At this juncture, the north was experiencing its calmest period. It was winter again, yet the heavily guarded Rentus Castle deflected even the harsh season.
The thick, warm carpets ensured that even a fall caused no injury. From far down the hallway, a black-haired child, her hair down to her waist, ran toward Ninia.
“Mom!”
“Careful.”
Ninia caught Ellen, who had leapt into her arms. The child, nearly seven, had grown noticeably. Her once-soft body had lengthened limbs and learned balance, yet her behavior remained the same as before. Ellen laughed playfully and asked,
“Guess who I am.”
“You’re my treasure.”
The natural reply made the child giggle. It had been two full months since she returned to the castle with Ellen.
Since reuniting with the child, Ninia had not parted from Ellen even briefly. Initially, she had been overjoyed that the child returned safely, and her heart had broken seeing her clutch her clothes and cry. The mother and daughter were slowly healing their emotional wounds together.
“Mom, tie my hair!”
Ellen handed Ninia the red silk ribbon she had been clutching and running with. Rosa appeared down the hallway behind Ellen.
A small child clung closely to Rosa—it was her child. Ninia signaled them that she could go, then held the silk ribbon.
“How shall I tie it?”
“Umm, prettily!”
Ellen answered without hesitation. She didn’t have a particular hairstyle in mind; she simply wanted her mother to do it. Ninia smiled at her cheerful voice. From the hallway where Rosa and her child had disappeared, another presence emerged. Ninia extended the red ribbon toward him.
“Will you tie it for me?”
