Chapter 44
In any situation, it was extremely rare for Mia to evade her duties. By nature, she was someone who couldn’t turn away from the responsibilities she had accepted, and even if that weren’t the case, in matters like this, there was no one else who could take her place.
No, even if someone volunteered to serve as an operations aide in her stead, Mia likely wouldn’t have allowed it.
That’s why her behavior—locking herself away in her room for hours, leaving no room for communication with the corps commander or other officers—was highly unusual for her.
Though she buried herself in work at all other times, war never permitted true rest, even when direct combat wasn’t occurring. Tasks that weren’t urgent but still required timely attention inevitably piled up even during those few hours—and Mia was well aware of this.
Yet even so, she couldn’t bring herself to face the corps commander and the problem she had left him with. More precisely, she didn’t want to face the guilt that rose up every time she saw him.
Even if her duty was to save him, there was no rule saying she had to stay by his side to do it. Fortunately, the rumor that the two of them were lovers had already been unofficially confirmed by the corps commander himself, which gave her solo behavior a certain degree of legitimacy. Of course, relying on that too heavily would bring its own problems.
But at the very least, as long as the other soldiers didn’t question it too much, Mia considered it enough.
Thus, once the tasks Mia had assigned herself were finished, no one could really blame her for spending the next few hours in deep contemplation—no one but Mia herself. She used that rare free time not only to criticize her own apparent idleness but to torment herself with guilt over everything related to Étienne.
How much time had passed like that?
Before her downward spiral of reflection could hit rock bottom, a gentle knock came at the door. When there was no answer, the doorknob eventually rattled, and the door opened. Mia slowly lifted her head.
It was Étienne.
How had he gotten the key? Why had he come here?
Those questions didn’t really matter. Even in that short moment, she could think of several ways he might have managed it. She hadn’t bothered to block off such access because in a truly critical moment, she didn’t want him to be unable to reach her. She’d considered even this possibility, so her curiosity felt pointless.
Mia studied Étienne’s face. If this was an emergency—if, say, the enemy had discovered their location and was advancing—then she’d have to push aside her crushing guilt and take action immediately. But there was no urgency on his face.
Ah.
Mia couldn’t bear the look of concern in his eyes. She couldn’t stand the kindness of someone who, still not fully recovered, had come to check on her well-being—especially not from him.
“I’m fine now, Mia.”
Even those words, spoken out of consideration for her, were too much. Étienne was far too good a person to be standing beside her. It wasn’t just about the ridiculous fake relationship they were pretending to have—Étienne was morally upright, and Mia couldn’t bring herself to believe she was qualified to support someone like him.
A proper aide wouldn’t cause harm to the one they served. If she had caused harm, then she shouldn’t be so inept as to fail to resolve even a single problem.
She had already killed him once.
And as long as she remained by his side, there was no guarantee that it wouldn’t happen again.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“Mia.”
“Did you come to mock me? To call me incompetent for failing to handle a simple matter and putting the corps commander in danger?”
“Of course not, Mia.”
“Then why are you here? Is it really so hard to leave me alone for just a little while?”
You must have thought I was pathetic. Just admit it.
Even Mia knew her sharp, almost violent accusations were absurd and baseless. Étienne had come out of concern for her—of course he had. She was being unfair.
But her exhausted lips could only spit out cutting words. She needed time to sort through her thoughts. And to do that, she had to be alone.
Right now, pushing people away with harsh accusations felt like the most effective method.
Yes, she wanted to be alone. Until the chaos, the long-held anger, and the self-loathing she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge finally quieted down.
Until then, she didn’t want to be seen by anyone.
“…Mia. Mia, look at me.”
Étienne placed a hand on her shoulder. The fact that she didn’t swat it away in a panic was the greatest courtesy she could offer him right now.
“It wasn’t your fault, that incident. In fact, because you stayed calm and endured until the end, we now have a bit more freedom moving forward.”
“…”
“Even my own involvement has been twisted, and that man—Number Eight—will likely be branded a traitor. He’s already lost trust, and since he can’t prove he wasn’t there, he won’t be able to shake the suspicion for some time.”
“…”
“If internal discord arises, we may be able to avoid pursuit for a while.”
No, you don’t understand anything.
This didn’t happen because of some strategic decision. It had always been my fault. Because I was incompetent… because I was stupidly complacent. If he’s lost his credibility, then what are we supposed to do? Is that really worth it?
No matter what, risking the corps commander’s life just to dismantle some minor organization was unforgivable. If only my judgment had been faster—if I had the skill to find some alternative solution—at the very least, you wouldn’t have collapsed right before my eyes…
Fragments of thought swirled chaotically through Mia’s mind, making it impossible for her to register whether the man beside her was still speaking.
Étienne’s illness had become a trigger for guilt she didn’t even know she was carrying. What she thought she had completely eradicated had returned, mocking her. The result was a tidal wave of emotion she hadn’t been prepared for.
Something firm held her upright. Only then did Mia realize her body was trembling uncontrollably. Rochefort was holding her, trying to soothe her. It was a shameful experience, even as she struggled to stay upright.
“I’m really okay, Mia. Shh, calm yourself. That’s it. What happened wasn’t such a terrible accident. It wasn’t your fault. If anything, it was my recklessness.”
“…”
“I can still fight. It wasn’t as terrible as you think.”
You don’t get to say that. It was a terrible accident. If you keep brushing off incidents like this, the next time something happens, it really will be beyond repair.
Mia swallowed those thorny words, meant not for Étienne but for herself.
“…This…”
Before she could even tell him to let go, Étienne spoke again. At some point, he had leaned so close their noses nearly touched. Their breath mingled in the narrow space. Mia’s own breathing, which had slowly been calming in rhythm with Étienne’s heartbeat, abruptly stopped.
“Mia.”
Then he said, in a voice too gentle to refuse—
“Why don’t we just go back to Etalon?”
He made her a proposal she could never accept.
For a long while, not even routine conversations or reports on personal activity were shared. That didn’t mean Mia stayed holed up in her room the entire time.
In fact, using the device given to her by that suspicious man, Mia had disguised herself and moved freely through the city, steadily gathering information about Veridian’s movements.
‘I’ve heard she’s preparing a report, so I suppose she’ll deliver it eventually…’
Still, the reports he received from the agents tailing her made him uneasy. Their reliability also left much to be desired.
Of course, even just from those tailing reports, it was obvious Mia wasn’t planning a betrayal.
Knowing what she had done during the council meeting in the capital, it was clear she wasn’t someone who would easily turn her back on her country. But it was still important to have that reassurance.
‘Though whether we’re really in a position to feel reassured is another matter.’
Mia had been hurt often.
No—often was likely an understatement.
The injuries Étienne knew about were only the few visible beyond her clothes. Every day, Bertrand brought new updates on her condition.
