He could have just left them there, but he had already gotten into the mud, putting his clothes through the wringer. He didn't want his efforts to be in vain.
Barcas walked under a large, beautiful maple tree in the drizzling rain.
Meanwhile, the girl was pouting and babbling something. He found it amusing how arrogant she was, soaking wet, so he lightly scolded her. Her once-pale complexion, once so pale it hurt his eyes, darkened a little.
He looked closely at the figure under the deeply pressed hood.
Perhaps Ayla's age? She was about the same height as her, but seemed smaller. Through the wet cloth, he could feel her slender, bird-like frame.
Contrary to her boasts that she was the daughter of a great man, it was not difficult to guess that she was not receiving proper care.
'...It's none of my business.'
He scratched himself to put her down, wondering at himself for feeling uncomfortable.
Then a small whistling sound was heard.
He stopped moving, his gaze dropped to her hands gathered on his chest.
"Are you holding the pen?"
The girl, who had been looking up at him with hesitant eyes, cautiously opened her hand. Through it, a muddy, gray-brown ball of fur was revealed.
He frowned.
"Bird?"
As he muttered doubtfully, the child's cheeks became even more flushed.
"It's because it fell into the mud..."
The girl who had been retorting with a hot face soon shut her mouth with a sullen expression.
He couldn't understand why the dying bird made her sad, why she held it in her arms even in the rain.
However, the sight of that ugly bird that the girl couldn't bear to throw away reminded him of something he had lost long ago.
He was soaking in a strange nostalgia, and he held her in one arm and pulled her small hand into his hood.
The skin on the back of her neck was so cold that he wondered if the blood was even circulating there.
"Your fingers are like ice. How long have you been standing there?"
Barcas looked down at her with a displeased expression, but then he met her big eyes staring straight into his.
The girl muttered in a hushed voice as if she had found a precious treasure, as if she was making a puzzled expression on her face, wondering if she was looking at the stars like that.
"There... is a silver crown in your eyes."
He looked at her with a speechless face.
This girl had really strange eyes.
The border between the pupil and iris was so dark that it seemed to blur, but strangely, it didn't appear black. Instead, it seemed to glow with a frightening transparency.
He suddenly remembered that he had seen this clear light somewhere before.
It was the light that poured down over his head as he ran across the endless grassland long ago.
The moment he realized that, his vision became clearer, as if a curtain covering his retina had been lifted.
The change was so sudden that he couldn't even fully realize what had happened to him.
As he stared at the bright light that suddenly appeared without blinking, a feast of colors that started from her eyes spread out to the surroundings.
The next moment, he noticed that the girl's hair was a bright golden color like the fields of autumn.
Just as he was about to absentmindedly reach out for it, her head snapped back. He had to clench his fist to keep from yanking that tiny face back toward him.
The girl muttered with a troubled expression.
"I have to go now."
It was a tone of voice that he did not like.
If you don't want to go, you don't have to go.
Barcas was about to blurt that out without realizing it, but then he closed his mouth.
It was a child he only just met. There was no reason to insist on going.
He slowly bent down and put her down.
A girl standing on the floor reached out her hand to him.
"Will you take it with you?"
He gazed at the tiny bird in her palm, then cautiously reached out. He cupped the rain-soaked young bird in his palm, feeling its small, rapidly beating heart.
He brought the cooling little bird to his cheek and pulled his hood forward.
As she gazed up at the sight, the girl asked with a voice filled with strange longing.
"Can that bird live?"
"Yes..."
Barcas, aware of the uncertainty in his own voice, added forcefully.
“It’ll be able to survive.”
A faint smile spread across the girl's anxious face. It was a bright, yet somehow sad smile.
She immediately turned around and started running.
As she moved away, the colorful paint spread across the landscape, expanding its territory. As he gazed at the sight, Bernadette's voice echoed in his head.
"Someday you will discover something that will keep you alive."
It can't be.
It was a fleeting encounter. A brief brush with an unknown girl wouldn't change his life.
He burst out laughing, then turned around and started walking.
The bird she handed him let out a faint cry. He opened his collar, pressed the bird against the warm spot on his neck, and then widened his stride a little.
The road he had walked hundreds of times seemed like a completely different place.
For a moment, a strange sense of dizziness washed over him. He looked up at the few slivers of light filtering through the gray clouds, then lowered his eyelids.
***
Heavy footsteps pierced through his hazy consciousness.
Barcas, who was sitting on a chair catching up on his sleep, slowly opened his eyelids.
He thought he heard a commotion from the other side of the rain-soaked barracks, and after a while, a black-haired young man wearing gold armor appeared through the blinds.
"Is it true that you pushed for the Kanghoe talks?"
The Crown Prince, who had thrown his helmet made of orichalcon to the ground, shouted in an angry voice.
He picked up a goblet from the makeshift table and answered in a cold tone.
"I only made a proposal. It was His Majesty the Emperor who actually initiated the talks.
“That’s it!”
The Crown Prince strode towards him and growled with his bright green eyes flashing.
"Negotiating with traitors... Are you out of your mind? Anyone who rebels against the royal family should be hanged!"
"Do you think it's realistically possible to execute all the nobles in the North?"
Barcas, his mouth moistened with wine, let out a heavy sigh.
"Let's say you execute all the Balto nobles as Your Highness wishes. How will you manage the vast territory in the north?"
"You can give it to my close associates as spoils of war! Or you can give it to the conservative nobles! There are so many nobles drooling over getting even a little more land..."
"There's no way the Balto people would accept a lord from another race, right?"
As he clutched his forehead and replied somewhat annoyedly, the Crown Prince's face, which had been furious, hardened coldly.
He patiently added explanations step by step.
"The North is also imperial territory. If we don't stop the war now, the damage will fall on the Roem Imperial Family. Above all, an excessive response could provoke the resentment of the feudal lords."
"Including you?"
The Crown Prince smirked, his eyes gleaming.
He didn't respond. He gazed at his cousin, whose hair seemed to be growing slowly, with tired eyes. He slowly got up.
As Barcas was about to leave the barracks, Gareth blocked his way.
"You pretend to care about the Roem royal family, but the truth is, you just want to end the war. Do you think I don't know why you refused the position of commander-in-chief and stayed near the eastern border?"
His raspy breath hit his chin unpleasantly.
Gareth, who had his face close to his, gritted his teeth and said,
"It's to hang out at Kalmore whenever you have the chance."
"..."
"You probably think you're the only one who knows me. But I know you, too. I've been watching you for nearly twenty years."
The Crown Prince's green eyes were long and almost dark green.
Although their personalities were completely different, Gareth's gaze always reminded him of the dead Empress. He continued, his words almost chewed out.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice that your mind was completely elsewhere? This meeting was just pushed forward for your own benefit!"
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