“What do you think?” Veronica asked nervously, swallowing as she presented the bubbling pot.
She had just finished cooking and asked Leon to taste it. After silently sampling a spoonful of broth, his brow furrowed. Her heart plummeted with foreboding.
“What’s wrong? Is something amiss?”
Have I made some terrible mistake? she worried. After dedicating so much of the morning to this preparation, surely it can’t be completely ruined…
Leon said nothing.
“It tasted perfectly fine earlier,” she insisted.
Unable to endure Leon’s prolonged silence, she hastily sampled a spoonful herself. The savory broth caressed her palate pleasantly as it slid down her throat. The flavor was delightful. Everything seemed perfectly fine, so why…
As she lifted her puzzled gaze, she encountered the eyes of her companion, whose lips had curved into a subtle smirk. Veronica’s eyes narrowed dangerously as she gritted her teeth.
“Are you serious?”
“What did I do wrong?” he replied innocently. “I haven’t said a single word.”
“You looked so disapproving!”
“So you can read minds now?” he observed with fake admiration.
After glaring at him for a moment, she playfully launched a small bird bone in his direction. Leon caught it effortlessly, set it aside, and rose to his feet.
“It’s very good,” he declared. “So good, in fact, that it nearly made me weep. I’ll go call the others.”
A lifetime with him would never be boring, at least. Of that much, she remained absolutely certain.
✦ ✦ ✦
After a hearty breakfast, the company resumed its journey. At last, the Kaisenmier-Whiteland border loomed before them. Given the tumultuous circumstances, lines of refugees stretched endlessly in every direction.
The chaos had reached such proportions that Whiteland officials could only count the number of refugees crossing their borders, having abandoned all attempts to verify individual identities.
The pressing throng of humanity denied them even brief respite, though conditions improved marginally the following day. The road divided into multiple branches, dispersing the flood of refugees heading in their direction. It was around this time that they bid farewell to Wigo, who continued toward the royal capital.
“Should your travels ever bring you to the White Fortress, seek me out without hesitation,” he told them warmly. “I intend to establish a reputation as a master locksmith.”
The affectionate locksmith presented the young couple with the sword he had been carrying and took his leave. From that day forward, Veronica resumed her swordsmanship training—riding horseback while the sun journeyed across the sky and practicing blade work after it descended. The verdant summer landscape provided the perfect setting for their exertions. The vibrant nature captivated them with beauty at every turn, seeming to enchant travelers into lingering.
“People like to say that the world is ending,” Charlotte would observe, gazing toward her homeland with eyes filled with longing, “yet in truth, the world remains unchanged. Only the arrogant creatures living in it come and go.”
The group found themselves in unanimous agreement regarding nature’s wonders. On one occasion, Night Star whinnied anxiously and kicked its hind legs in agitation. When they investigated, they discovered a majestic reindeer with magnificent antlers had approached their camp. They held their breath in collective awe, and Enzo murmured that the creature looked like a divine beast. Leon mischievously confirmed that theory—thoroughly confusing everyone—and Charlotte had to provide clarification with an expression of mild exasperation.
During an encounter with traveling gypsies, Veronica experienced her first celestial fortune-telling. After sharing their birth dates and hours to determine their natal stars, the elderly seer proclaimed that Leon was destined for a life of living under his wife’s thumb. He responded with characteristic indifference that he placed no faith in such superstitions, but when Veronica’s expression fell in disappointment, he hastily amended his statement. The group erupted in laughter at his transparent attempt to appease her.
Who had crossed their path next? Ah, yes—villagers fleeing en masse from their small settlement. They explained that their hometown had been utterly destroyed, and they were journeying toward the newly accessible wilderness territories. Leon and Veronica entrusted them with correspondence confirming their destination and continued survival, addressed to Sir Philip von Wittelsbach. They added instructions that, should the letter fail to reach him directly, it should be delivered to any member of the Knight Order.
Their journey went on. As they ventured northward, their knowledge of one another deepened considerably. They love each other with greater freedom than the wild creatures of the meadows, and shared laughter as pure as children’s. Leon particularly cherished taking afternoon repose with his head cradled in her lap, while Veronica delighted in playfully imploring him to dry her dampened hair. They shared a mutual pleasure in surprising each other with unexpected kisses, savoring the endearing bewilderment that crossed the recipient’s features. Their interactions often resembled a tender competition to catch the other unawares.
To recount every precious moment would be an endless task. Their path sparkled with countless hues, dazzling to behold. One day, they actually discovered a stream teeming with yellow croakers. When Charlotte directed their attention to it beneath a nearby willow tree, they couldn’t suppress their laughter. The moment their eyes met, Veronica’s cheeks flushed crimson, recognizing that Leon’s thoughts had wandered to the same cherished memory. Their collection of shared secrets continued to blossom with each passing day.
✦ ✦ ✦
One evening, Veronica, fresh from washing up, suddenly grabbed Leon’s arm and started pulling it insistently. “I have something to show you. Come with me.”
“What’s the rush? I’ll have the fire going soon.”
“No, we need to see it now. It might disappear if we wait too long.”
Though he could have easily resisted her gentle tug, he allowed himself to be led willingly. She guided him past the horses tethered to trees and toward the stream, where the night was filled with the songs of insects serenading the stars.
“I wanted to share this view with you,” she confessed softly. “Just like how I want to share every delicious food with you. Whenever there’s something good, your face naturally comes to mind.”
The babbling brook grew louder as they approached. Once their eyes adjusted to the darkness, Veronica finally stopped and lifted a curtain of hanging branches. Leon slowly raised his head at the sudden flood of ethereal light before them.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she whispered, her crimson eyes shimmering with reflected light. “It’s a sight you can only witness on summer nights.”
Leon exhaled slowly through his broad, sturdy shoulders.
Around a twisted old tree above a pool, lantern-like fireflies drifted in mysterious patterns. Above them, the Milky Way flowed like a river across the vast open sky. After a long silence before this intimate spectacle, unlike anything he had ever seen, Leon finally opened his mouth.
“Beautiful,” he said, his voice low. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in all my days.”
But his eyes were fixed not on the stars or the dancing lights, but on her. Her heart throbbed painfully as waves of emotion crashed through her chest.
Despite the moonless night, the sky held enough light to illuminate them. Except for the movement of stars, they were the only sound in this world. Her red hair fluttered wildly in the summer breeze. Leon lowered his head toward hers.
The twinkling stars would disappear with the morning, but the moment their lips met felt as though it would never fade away.