Chapter 3
“I just hoped that you would return safely, sir… There are many people who will pray for you, but I wanted you to know for certain that I, too, am worried about your safety. And…”
Just as his previously twisted feelings were beginning to soften at her sincere tone, Leila finally spoke the words he least wanted to hear.
“I know it’s shameless, but could you grant me just one last request?”
Of course. She wore an earnest expression, as though she had squeezed out every bit of courage she had, yet what Bjorn felt was nothing more than faint irritation.
Among the young men and women of the Principality of Rimasoth, there was a custom that Bjorn had always considered trivial, yet one that was observed quite strictly.
That custom was an unspoken rule that when rejecting someone’s confession, one must grant a small request in return for having hurt the other person’s feelings.
He had expected it to some extent from the moment she suddenly confessed after holding back for so long, but hearing it directly still brought an inexplicable sense of disappointment. Compared to the other women who had been openly blatant, Leila was merely more cautious. Her objective was the same.
“What kind of request do you mean?”
Using this as a pretext for a final moment, what would this woman demand now? A deep kiss? A heated night? Of course, as he always had, he had no intention whatsoever of granting such requests, no matter who the other party was.
“Please keep this with you. I’d like you to carry it on your person as much as possible. I’m not asking you to think of me or remember me. No, it’s fine even if you forget me completely. But if you would just be sure to wear this…”
Yet contrary to his contemptuous wariness, Leila’s request was so trivial it almost made him laugh.
Feeling inexplicably deflated, Bjorn opened the satin box she held out with trembling hands. If it was something difficult to accept, he planned to refuse it outright.
Inside the box lay a neatly placed, ordinary looking silver rosary. At the end of the string densely threaded with small beads, a cameo was carved with the figure of the principal god Benignus, most often depicted as male.
At a glance, it was nothing special. It was the kind of item any priest or temple knight would own at least one of, and it even resembled the one currently hanging around Bjorn’s own neck.
“If it’s alright, could I keep the one you’re wearing now… and instead, wouldn’t you take this with you? This is my final request, made on the years I spent loving you.”
Perhaps sensing Bjorn’s intention to politely refuse, Leila said this in a voice thick with tears.
Her passive attitude of merely circling around him without ever approaching was nowhere to be seen. Faced with Leila’s expression, which seemed tinged with a madness he had never seen before, Bjorn hesitated in a way that wasn’t like him.
“Please…”
The sight of her clasping her hands together and pleading earnestly, as if praying to the principal god himself, had an aspect that made it difficult to refuse, no matter how firmly he had walled off his heart.
After a brief moment of deliberation, Bjorn, with a ‘let it be what it will’ mindset, lifted the rosary he was wearing over his head and removed it.
He was heading off to die anyway. The chances that a paladin drafted into a holy war would return alive were not even half. And Bjorn had no particular will to survive.
He had never once accepted a personal gift from a believer before, but Leila ended up becoming his exception.
Of course, this would be the first and the last time.
Only after receiving the rosary Bjorn handed over, and seeing the gift she had given now hanging around his neck, did Leila finally seem reassured.
Just then, a warm breeze blew past. A scattering rain of petals beautifully adorned the final moment between the two of them.
After offering her farewell wishes for his good fortune in battle, Leila quietly left. Watching the woman’s retreating figure, Bjorn likewise departed without lingering.
Less than a month later, one day, Bjorn led the vanguard and marched toward the battlefield.
Among the great crowd gathered for the grand departure ceremony, Leila stood there with tears brimming in her eyes, but he didn’t know that.
The man departed, and the woman remained.
At the radiant end of spring, the unfulfilled love story of a knight and a lady seemed to come to such a close.
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