Chapter 93
Valen carried Roseline deeper into the forest.
The winter sun slanted low, casting a reddish glow over the bare branches. The dim light deepened the silence of the winter woods.
With each rustle of crushed leaves and every hiccup that escaped her, Valen patted her back soothingly. Too drained to resist, Roseline quietly swallowed her sobs. Whether her tear ducts were broken or something inside her had shattered, the flood of sorrow wouldn’t stop.
“Done crying?”
He set her down on a wide, flat rock—large enough to tower past his waist. Bracing his hands on either side of her, he tilted his head.
“What a mess.”
Valen huffed a laugh at her tear-streaked face. Despite his chiding, his voice, his gaze, and the hand brushing her damp cheek were all tenderness.
He pulled out a handkerchief, dampened it with water from his canteen, and gently wiped her face. Then he tipped the canteen to her lips. Too exhausted to protest, Roseline accepted his ministrations without a word. The corner of Valen’s mouth curled up slowly.
“Guess I have to make you cry to get you to listen.”
Roseline glanced at him weakly before letting her gaze drop. That was all. No glaring, no grumbling about how he must be pleased. When a fresh tear plopped onto her knee, the faint curve of his lips straightened.
“Didn’t mean I’d make you cry again.”
“…I don’t want to cry either.”
“Don’t want to, but can’t stop?”
Roseline nodded.
“Why? Because you’re pathetic?”
This time, her nod was deeper. Valen tapped her forehead with his index finger, then studied her drenched lashes intently.
“Yeah, you might hate it.”
“……”
“But I don’t mind you like this.”
Her limp gaze lifted to him. Normally, wouldn’t people ask why and offer comfort? Not that she expected it, but his bluntness was so startling it even halted her tears. Roseline rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffled.
“Me like this? Taking my frustration out on you, causing nothing but trouble…?”
He listened to her hoarse voice, brushed his thumb under her eye, and laughed—a sound like a sigh.
“The frustration, fine. But what ‘trouble’?”
“We had to camp suddenly because of me. If I weren’t sick, we’d have pushed as far as possible instead of stopping here. And you know that’s true.”
“If we’re splitting hairs, then yeah, you’re the reason.”
“……”
“But the decision was mine, so the responsibility is mine too.”
She understood what he meant—I’ll clean up even the messes you make—but that didn’t make it comforting.
If anything, this blind, unilateral approach—perhaps Valen’s way of showing affection—only left her feeling more stifled. She needed to pull herself together. Wallowing like this wouldn’t change anything. No, the more pathetic she became, the heavier Valen’s burdens would grow. That couldn’t happen. Roseline wiped her dried eyes roughly.
“Let’s go. I’m fine now.”
“Already?”
“Yes. Probably.”
Ignoring his lingering gaze, she hopped down from the rock. It wasn’t high, but the impact still made her legs wobble. Valen caught her waist effortlessly, steadying her.
“Roseline.”
“Hmm?”
“If going to the capital frightens you this much, we don’t have to.”
Her hands, fussing with her clothes, stilled. She looked up sharply.
“How can we not go? We have to see this through.”
“I said I’d take responsibility.”
“So I should just hide behind you and do nothing?”
“Obviously.”
“……What?”
“Ah, now you understand.”
Hic.
Though her tears had stopped, her unsteady breath still hitched like hiccups. Amused, Valen unscrewed his canteen and offered it. Roseline refused at first, but when he teased, “Need me to feed you?”, she reluctantly accepted.
After barely wetting her lips, Valen laughed again. “A sparrow drinks more than you.” He recapped the canteen, hooked it on his belt, then pulled Roseline’s hood up—so far it nearly covered her nose. She adjusted it slightly and pressed on.
“You want me to just hide behind you and contribute nothing?”
“The thought alone is delightful.”
“……”
“Just don’t say it’s over or that we should part. I won’t entertain it.”
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Bluesky
billyjbradshaw