Meanwhile, Veronica discreetly took Night Star’s reins and guided the warhorse toward the makeshift stable area.
“Thank you for carrying us to safety again,” she whispered, fearlessly embracing the massive horse’s head. “I owe you my life.”
Night Star merely blinked its obsidian eyes gently in response. Veronica hesitated, then stroked the area between the horse’s eyes and added softly, “I might need your help again soon. But next time, I’ll likely be alone. Would you still carry me then?”
She gazed into the warhorse’s eyes, as if expecting an answer.
It was then that Night Star, ears suddenly pricked forward, abruptly turned its head. Following the horse’s gaze, Veronica caught a glimpse of a figure hastily vanishing up the staircase—medium height with distinctive chestnut curls. It was Oscar.
Is he avoiding me? But why?
Her expression hardened as memories of their chance meeting at the Papal Office resurfaced.
“What are you looking at so intently?”
The unexpected voice from behind startled her. Turning, she found Leon standing there, his debriefing evidently concluded. His penetrating gaze shifted between her face and the staircase where Oscar had disappeared.
“Oh, nothing important,” she stammered. “I just thought I saw someone familiar.”
She couldn’t bring herself to mention Oscar. Leon was particularly sensitive about that name. His piercing stare held an unsettling coldness, as if he had divined her thoughts. His eyes swept over her pallid features before he extended his arm toward her.
“I’ll escort you upstairs where you can rest. This area is crowded with soldiers and messengers.”
She instinctively recoiled from his outstretched hand. An awkward silence fell between them as Leon froze, his expression unreadable.
Veronica blinked, flustered, before murmuring, “I’m fine. I can manage on my own. You don’t need to hold my hand or carry me.”
Leon lowered his gaze to his empty hand, a flicker of hurt crossing his features.
It wasn’t because she hated his touch that she’d pulled away. She was just bothered by the knights glancing in their direction. Even though Leon already had a reputation as a rake, sticking close to a woman in the middle of a warzone wouldn’t win him any favors with his colleagues.
“I’m only concerned about your reputation among the knights,” she explained. “These are the men who will stand beside you until the end.”
These knights would guard his back in battle, and she refused to be the reason they whispered behind his back. One of the reasons she’d let herself come here was because she’d wanted to see him reunited with his brothers-in-arms before she left.
Surely that small wish isn’t too much? It may be selfish, when countless people are suffering worldwide, but… this is our final time together.
“And what about you?” Leon asked quietly as he lowered his hand.
“Sorry?”
“You make it sound like you won’t be by my side until the end.”
Leon’s lips curved into a smile that never reached his eyes. Veronica hesitated, her gaze darting away.
“Of course I’ll stay with you as long as possible,” she replied carefully, “but your knights are different.”
“How so?”
“Those men are your true comrades—they threw open the gates without even needing to be told. They’re the brothers you trust with your life.”
“And you’re the family I found at the end of my life.”
His blunt declaration struck her speechless. The words she’d spoken a week ago had come back to haunt her.
Leon tilted his head slightly as he observed her stricken expression.
“You also said that you’d stay in Karta until the end, never leaving my side. Am I wrong?”
She couldn’t deny it. She had offered those words to a man teetering on the edge of a complete breakdown. Back then, she hadn’t realized that the fragile peace between them would be so fleeting. She had believed she’d at least get the chance to be with him until he regained his strength.
“If you’re trying to repay my past deception with lies of your own, please stop,” Leon murmured, his voice quiet. “I’ve suffered enough this past week.”
With one deliberate step—his stride so much longer than hers—he closed the distance between them and said, “It was so cold I couldn’t sleep. Not once while you were gone.”
His shadow fell across her face. She felt enveloped by his darkness. His hushed voice was so intimate that no one else could possibly hear.
“I heard you were doing well without me. I tried to be glad, but twisted thoughts would claw at my mind like a madman’s fever. How could you thrive when I was drowning without you?”
“This past week, everyone was so kind to me. Oscar and Joachim especially—”
“I hate hearing their names from your lips,” he cut her off sharply.
She looked up at him, momentarily stunned by his candor.
“I hate hearing about other men caring for you, Veronica,” he continued, his voice rough with possessiveness. “The knowledge that you can manage without me burns like poison in my veins. When I saw you running toward me, face pale with fear, I felt a shameful relief that you still needed me.”
Words failed her completely.
“That’s how far gone I am,” he admitted without shame. “So please—don’t talk as if you’re planning to disappear from my life.”
Leon made no attempt to disguise his feelings. He laid bare how essential she had become to him without any shame. He spoke as though she were the very air he breathed—as if her absence would leave him gasping. Her heart ached at his raw honesty.
With those words hanging between them, he placed the helmet he’d been carrying gently over her head.
Within the confined view that now contained only him, Veronica whispered, “Why would you give this to me?”
“I won’t die. I told you before. I still have things to say and something to give you.”
The promise he’d made after cheating death flashed through her mind. Veronica fell silent, her fingers trembling as they traced the helmet’s contours.
This helmet represented the first tender feelings she had ever conveyed to him. So what Leon wished to express now was…
He bent down, his lips brushing against her ear through the helmet’s opening. Veronica’s eyes widened as he whispered his heart’s truth.
Suddenly, she understood why he had placed the helmet over her head. Without its protection, her flushed face would have betrayed the intimate love confession he whispered to her.
Her heart constricted painfully, like a wound being torn open.
This wound would surely leave a permanent scar, she thought.