Episode 7 – Let Me See Him Once More
“Holly, Bill, Polly.”
Upon returning to the northern territory, Rosen gathered all of her knights.
“Departure is in a week. It’s sudden, but I hope you’ll follow me.”
After explaining the details regarding their participation in the war, Rosen looked over her knights.
But for a knight order, their number was far too small—
No, too small.
Including Rosen herself, there were only four of them.
Two women, two men.
And they were the only ones who lived in the mansion.
“Yes, understood.”
All three answered in unison.
Rather than fear, their expressions showed relief — relief that they could still be together.
“Meeting’s over.”
At Rosen’s gesture, the three relaxed their tense shoulders.
“Then we should hurry with preparations.”
That was Bill, the butler and knight in charge of the household.
The other two nodded, gave Rosen a polite bow, and left.
As Rosen watched their retreating backs, she noticed a shadow fall over her.
Bill approached.
“Why?”
He had dark skin, slicked-back white hair, and sharp features —
taller than Rosen, built like a general,
and wore an eyepatch over his right eye, with a scar stretching beyond it.
“Your expression isn’t good, my lady. Are you troubled?”
“Maybe I’m just nervous about returning to the battlefield.”
“I doubt that’s the kind of worry you have.”
“That’s exactly why I don’t like sharp subordinates.”
Rosen grumbled and crossed her arms, making Bill laugh quietly.
“…It’s just— we finally met again, and now I won’t see him for a while.”
“Who are you referring to?”
Rosen didn’t answer.
She only blinked, turned her head, and gazed out the window.
The central hall was filled with silence, broken only by the faint ticking of a clock.
“Sometimes, when the heart is earnest, the gods listen in unexpected ways.”
“Gods?”
“I mean Castan, my lady. He sometimes answers sincere prayers.”
“…A god, huh.”
Rosen exhaled a deep sigh.
Bill bowed politely and withdrew.
When he was gone, Rosen turned her gaze to the grand staircase.
At its center hung a massive painting — the God Castan descending to cleanse the chaos of the world.
Step by step, Rosen ascended.
The higher she climbed, the clearer the god’s face became.
“O great god, Castan…”
Rosen clasped her hands and closed her eyes.
“Please, allow me to meet that person once more. I pray to you.”
Her murmur echoed softly between the ticking seconds.
— Click.
The chandelier lights flickered and went out, as if a power failure had struck.
Rosen looked up at the darkened painting and sighed.
Then, turning toward her room, she continued up to the second floor.
The only sound left in the hall was the ticking of the clock,
and the moonlight that streamed through the windows illuminated the god descending to earth.
Time passed frighteningly fast—
a week vanished in the blink of an eye.
Calling it “support” was polite,
but in truth, it was still war.
“…Damn it.”
Rosen leaned back against a tree, breath ragged, before collapsing to sit.
Peace never lasted long.
War always came back, like a hand striking the back of her head.
She finally found a brief moment of rest.
“When will I be able to go home?”
She stared blankly at the sky—
a sky so blue it was annoying, with not a single cloud in sight.
“War, on a day like this… what nonsense.”
“…I’m hungry.”
Murmuring softly, Rosen closed her eyes,
but her nerves remained taut.
The war could resume at any moment.
She had to return to camp soon,
so she allowed herself just a brief nap.
“At least a high position means I get a tent to myself…”
There was a time when even a place to lie down was a luxury.
She looked down at her hands — both covered in scars.
A faint thick scar ran across her right hand.
Crash! Clang!
During the revolution, Rosen had suffered a deep wound to her hand.
In the chaos and noise, she pulled the spear from her own hand and picked up her sword again.
Blood splattered across the blade — both hers and her enemies’.
“Ugh—!”
As Rosen caught her breath, Lante, who had rushed to the front, shouted:
“Rosen! Don’t fall behind!”
“I know!”
The pain was sharp but brief.
Rosen slipped out of the group unnoticed to treat herself.
She needed to stop the bleeding—fast.
“Are you insane?!”
She was biting a handkerchief to stifle her groans when a man knelt before her.
“At this rate you’ll ruin your hand! You might have to amputate!
We need to treat it immediately.”
“Shut… up. Don’t bother me.”
“I’ll shut up if you show me your hand.”
“I said— don’t inte— agh!”
“How could I ignore you when you’re in this much pain?”
The man adjusted his glasses with a grumble.
Even a light touch on her arm made Rosen drop the handkerchief with a gasp.
“Wait here.”
“You’re… a doctor, aren’t you?”
“I am. I’ll get my tools. Don’t go anywhere, understand?”
“Fine… stop yelling, my head hurts…”
The man dashed away.
Rosen leaned against the wall, exhaling slowly.
His back faded down the imperial hallway.
Tired.
Hungry.
I want to go home.
She couldn’t move—
if she returned now, Lante would summon a dozen doctors to treat her.
They couldn’t spare the manpower.
“Hey, hey! Stay awake!”
“Ugh… my head’s spinning…”
“You’ve got a fever. Don’t lose consciousness.”
She didn’t know how much time had passed.
The sunlight through the window had turned red—
evening had come.
“…The revolution…”
“It’s still underway. It’s hard to advance, but no enemies are coming this way.”
“…Good.”
Rosen felt a small sense of relief.
The man calmly unpacked his medical tools.
“…Doctor.”
“Yes?”
“…Your name…”
“Holden.”
“Holden… I’m— agh!”
“Later. Focus on enduring the pain.”
Even removing the makeshift bandage was agony.
Rosen shoved the handkerchief back into her mouth and bit down.
Her cold sweat dripped like rain.
Holden brushed aside her blood-matted hair gently,
then silently began treatment.
I have to save her.
His eyes said everything.
Only muffled groans filled the corridor for a long time.
“…Ugh.”
“Just a bit longer.”
When Rosen opened her eyes again, she realized—
she was being carried in Holden’s arms.
“Where… are we going?”
“To a temporary station. Your hand isn’t the only injury you have.”
“How… do you know that…”
“I’m not famous, but I am a doctor.”
Holden laughed weakly, sweat dripping onto her forehead.
He was careful not to touch her wounds as he carried her.
“You can put me down…”
“No.”
“I said it’s fine…”
“I said no.”
“You’re… so stubborn…”
Rosen murmured hoarsely.
Holden only smiled and kept walking.
Light flickered faintly at the end of the dark hallway.
“Holden…”
“Yes?”
“…Thank you… for saving me.”
Holden said nothing.
Maybe it was the medicine, but her eyelids grew heavy.
“To save someone who risks their life for the Empire—
that’s only natural.”
“I…”
“I respect the patriotism people like you carry.”
Rosen barely managed to look up at him.
Even through her blurred vision, Holden was smiling faintly.
“I think you’re an incredible person… dazzlingly so.”
Dazzlingly so.
Through the distant glow of firelight,
his face blurred—
but Rosen knew.
The light shining brighter than her own—
was him.
“Rosen!”
“…Lante.”
“You’re awake! Thank goodness… thank the heavens…”
When her vision cleared, Rosen realized she was indoors.
Lante helped her sit up.
“Rest that hand. It’s badly injured.”
“Where are we?”
“Temporary quarters inside the palace.
The others said the doctor carried you here.”
“The doctor… where is he?”
“He left the palace.”
“What? Without any medical staff?”
“Shh. Rosen… it’s nearly over.”
“We’ve won.”
Lante smiled with relief.
Rosen finally loosened her shoulders.
He gently touched the bandages on her hand.
“Barhel.”
“…”
That name — her real name —
Lante hadn’t spoken it since the death of her family.
“Listen. You know this is the last one, right?”
“I know, Oberon.”
Rosen called him by his true name,
the one given by his mother, Prianne.
“Soon, the palace core will fall.
Rest, if you want to stand beside me when it does.”
So sleep now. Sleep well, Rosen.
Lante brushed her hair softly.
After days without rest, Rosen finally closed her eyes.
‘Holden.’
‘I think you’re an incredible person. Dazzlingly so.’
Rosen stared blankly at her scarred hand.
“…Holden.”
“Hey! Holden!”
— Flash.
A familiar voice snapped her back to the present.
She turned carefully, staying hidden behind a tree.
In the distance, several men in medical uniforms walked by.
Among them—
a face she recognized.
“…That man…”
Holden turned around at the call, and Rosen froze.
“Why… is that man here, on the battlefield?”**
