Noah was a man who calculated probabilities and possibilities, including variables, before taking action. Now, I'm afraid of the risks associated with variables, so I'm willing to shoulder all the losses. He's someone who unhesitatingly gives up everything he has for a purpose. I wish he hadn't given up even a moment with me. That fervent wish turned into sharp thorns, piercing my very core.
“Don’t call me Princess.”
“Yes, Diana.”
“Don’t go. Even if I tell you to go.”
“I will do that.”
He turned to look at me as he was about to leave. But he remained in that spot and didn't come any closer.
We stood facing each other, separated by a single threshold. Though we had once been the closest of friends, an implicit line seemed to have been drawn, unbridgeable. Blue eyes, tinged with the color of war, gazed kindly at me. He seemed distant and distant, like an unreachable illusion, even though he was right before my eyes.
My thirst wasn't quenched even after hearing the answer I wanted. Instead, it felt like I was gulping down salty seawater.
Why don't you act like you used to? You hated being away from me even for a moment. I can accommodate your crazy antics. It's crazy to go to war just for me, but I don't want to do that.
“I’m sorry for making you feel bad.”
Noah apologized, as if he'd read my mind. I grabbed his hand, pulled him roughly away, and closed the door.
The door slammed loudly. I released the tightness in my lips, trying to suppress the sadness that was surging out.
"Noah, why did you leave without a word that day? You trained me to do nothing without you, so why did you leave without any sense of responsibility? Even now..."
“This is the choice of an ordinary person.”
I wasn't angry at him. I was so disgusted and angry at myself for pushing him into war, to the point of disgust. I was selfish and self-centered to the end. I wanted everything to go my way, regardless of his plans or thoughts. I didn't want to be alone after he left. I shook my head, denying all the resentment I'd been displaying so vehemently until just now.
"No, no. I don't blame you. So, trust me, I'm working on a solution."
I shifted my demeanor, expressing it with desperation instead of resentment, as if I were broken. I was calm, then angry, then a contradictory smile. I couldn't figure out what expression to put on. My throat tightened, my chest heaved with pressure. My eyes burned with a burning heat. I pleaded, barely able to contain the emotions that were about to burst forth.
“Noah. I will end this war, not you. Don’t leave me alone.”
What should I do with this emptiness when I'm left alone?
I have nothing but you. I can't do anything. I don't even have a reason to exist here. You wanted me to be passive and dependent, right? You shouldn't have tamed me like that and left. I don't want you to die. Sorrow welled up to my chin, choking me. Noah's blue eyes widened slightly as he looked at me, then narrowed again, and curved gently. I grabbed his arms with both hands and held them tightly. He, who had been led obediently by my hands, didn't respond. He just looked at me with pitiful eyes.
“Ted, are you in the Princess’s room?”
Baroness Mason, who had rushed from the banquet hall, asked Ted, who was standing guard in front of the door. Ted shook his head with a stern expression.
“It is there, but no one can come in right now.”
“Why? Isn’t she alone?”
He kept his mouth shut. The Baroness, who had known that Noah had come to the palace, quickly noticed what was happening in the Princess's room and sighed.
“...I guess I can’t keep quiet.”
“I know that, and the Princess knows that too.”
“Yeah, you’re still at that age.”
Zelda brushed back her curly black hair, her expression a bitter one. It was a portrait too heavy, bordering on tragedy, to be dismissed as mere youthful exuberance.
“Does it have to be like this?”
The door slowly opened behind the Baroness, who turned around, muttering to herself. Baroness Mason narrowed her brows and scolded the man with silver-white hair who emerged from the door.
“Don’t you know very well that that won’t work?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
Noah, who answered dryly, was dressed neatly, without a single flaw. His tie was neatly tied, his uniform neatly pressed to the point of perfection, supporting his claim that nothing had happened. Noah, still receiving the suspicious gaze, smirked and asked Baroness Mason a question.
“And what does that have to do with anything? Is a maid interfering with the private lives of royalty?”
"It's a matter of the heart, isn't it? The Princess won't be able to let go of her attachment to you. It'll hurt."
“I hope so.”
“You know it’s selfish, right?”
Noah smiled at Baroness Mason's cold words.
“I’m the same way.”
With those words, Noah turned around and walked past the Baroness and Ted with a soldierly, measured gait.
Ted grabbed Baroness Mason's arm as she tried to ask him more questions.
“Zelda, you know it wasn’t Captain Rotsilt’s fault.”
“I know. But if they meet now, it’ll only be painful for both of them.”
"It's not something a third party can judge arbitrarily. We just need to fulfill our roles."
Baroness Mason, who had freed her held arm, sighed deeply and watched Noah's back as he walked away.
Noah walked down the central hallway with a blank expression.
Vincent, who was standing in the corner of the hallway, offered Noah a cigar as he walked by, but Noah shook his head.
“I don’t smoke.”
“Are you really getting a divorce?”
"That's why they called me back. I need to sign it myself. There's nothing I can do about it now."
Vincent, frowning, rubbed his chest and tugged at his tie a couple of times, seemingly frustrated. In contrast to him, who seemed at a loss, Noah stood upright, expressionless.
“What’s the situation? Are you currently on standby near the fortress?”
"It's all the same. We do what anyone who survived a battle can do. We play poker, drink, and meet women. I don't do anything but drink a glass of cognac."
“You must be tired.”
“Yeah, it’s not fun.”
"Wasn't our purpose accomplished long ago? I don't see any reason to participate. If we go to the Republic of Kappel, Jayce Groenendaal will help us."
The tide was turning in favor of the Allies, and the possibility of their defeat was being raised. Having received this news in advance, wealthy, privileged citizens of other countries and deserting Allied officers were desperately seeking asylum in the permanently neutral state of Kappel.
"I can't go now. The capitalist powers are completely divided. One side wants to invest in Frogen's victory, while the other hates it. Right now, the former has the upper hand."
"Still..."
The forces that hope for Frogen's victory will not leave Medea's Princess, Diana, alone. Sadly, this is where she is safest.
Noah rubbed the back of his neck with a tired look on his face.
"I'm not confident we'll arrive safely. I'm familiar with finding my way, but I don't know how to get there together."
Vincent kept his mouth shut, worried. He must have considered everything anyone could think of. That man's calculations must have already concluded it would fail. If he were alone, he would have tried it, but he's changed, and he's afraid. Perhaps he's afraid of losing something precious.
“Vincent, tell the Princess our secret.”
Noah tapped Vincent's shoulder twice and walked past him. The sound of retreating boots grew heavier. Vincent stared at his back with bitter eyes.
He sighed deeply and wiped his face as if washing it dry.
“I told you, you’re a partner whose true intentions are truly unfathomable.”
After Noah left, I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling.
"It's annoying."
Looking back now, the beautiful ceiling painting on the high ceiling seemed messy and untidy. I wanted to smash it, to throw things at it and break them. Is this how people lose their minds? I became so sensitive that even the slightest noise made my hair stand on end, and I was suffering from the excruciating noises of all kinds of situations colliding inside and outside my body.
“Yes, Diana. I’ll be back later.”
It was Noah's dry response to my earnest plea not to go. With those words, he left the room immediately. Noah's only reason for returning to Loganfield was to sign divorce papers.
“Are we really getting a divorce?”
It feels like I've consumed everything in the nearly six months since he left. I can't even try to recapture my daily life with him, nor can I pretend to be expressionless or indifferent.
Even standing is difficult, and even talking is a bother. I don't want to see anyone. I don't want to do it. At the end of the agony of burning to the ground, only gray ash was piled up.
The wait for Noah to return became more arduous, so I took out a few sleeping pills I'd been saving for a long time and popped them in my mouth. When I finally fell asleep, Noah appeared in my dream.
He was looking down at me like the demon from the grotesque painting titled Nightmare in the hallway of the Frogen mansion.
Behind the red curtain, a stallion, his breath emitting a white puff, pokes his head out and looks at me. It's the old horse that carried me to Belford and ran until the very end before passing away.
Countless shards of broken glass slowly scattered before my eyes. I felt a strange familiarity with this scene.
At one point, I felt like I'd experienced death. I shook my head nervously, trying to dispel the bizarre fantasy. Noah, who had been quietly watching me, spoke in a mournful voice.
“It was all for you.”
Those words overlapped with those of someone from the past, but I couldn't pinpoint who it was. The more I tried to remember, the more my consciousness became disjointed and distorted. Shaken by guilt and loss, I knew this was a dream, but I also knew that his death, always lurking behind me, could become reality. To me, it was a tragedy in itself, a torn limb spewing blood.
“Noah, I didn’t want that.”
It's like a sacrifice. I just want to be together. Whether it's happiness or unhappiness.
In my dream, he just smiled sadly and didn't answer. He didn't even hug me.
When I opened my eyes, the sun was already rising outside the window. The drug had clouded my vision, and I was in pain, but I quickly came to my senses and jumped up, focusing my gaze on the dimly overlapping clock hands. It was 8 a.m., morning. Eileen, who had been summoned, came in politely. I asked in a hoarse voice.
“Did Noah come while I was sleeping?”
“He didn’t come.”
“Be honest.”
“...You left Loganfield at dawn.”
Noah, who had said he'd come later, never showed up. No, it's too early to tell. I can't be sure until I see it with my own eyes. He's a man of his word, so there must have been some other reason. It could also be Eileen lying.
I stared at Eileen with cold, distrustful eyes. No matter how hard I glared, she wouldn't give me the answer I wanted. Her eyes simply turned red, as if she couldn't bear the sadness.
Eileen's expression was one of human sympathy, an apologetic expression. At the same time, a tear, echoing my own, fell at my feet. My stiff lips moved with difficulty.
"Word..."
Don't say it.
“Captain Rotsilt signed the divorce papers.”
“Don’t call me Princess.”
“Yes, Diana.”
“Don’t go. Even if I tell you to go.”
“I will do that.”
He turned to look at me as he was about to leave. But he remained in that spot and didn't come any closer.
We stood facing each other, separated by a single threshold. Though we had once been the closest of friends, an implicit line seemed to have been drawn, unbridgeable. Blue eyes, tinged with the color of war, gazed kindly at me. He seemed distant and distant, like an unreachable illusion, even though he was right before my eyes.
My thirst wasn't quenched even after hearing the answer I wanted. Instead, it felt like I was gulping down salty seawater.
Why don't you act like you used to? You hated being away from me even for a moment. I can accommodate your crazy antics. It's crazy to go to war just for me, but I don't want to do that.
“I’m sorry for making you feel bad.”
Noah apologized, as if he'd read my mind. I grabbed his hand, pulled him roughly away, and closed the door.
The door slammed loudly. I released the tightness in my lips, trying to suppress the sadness that was surging out.
"Noah, why did you leave without a word that day? You trained me to do nothing without you, so why did you leave without any sense of responsibility? Even now..."
“This is the choice of an ordinary person.”
I wasn't angry at him. I was so disgusted and angry at myself for pushing him into war, to the point of disgust. I was selfish and self-centered to the end. I wanted everything to go my way, regardless of his plans or thoughts. I didn't want to be alone after he left. I shook my head, denying all the resentment I'd been displaying so vehemently until just now.
"No, no. I don't blame you. So, trust me, I'm working on a solution."
I shifted my demeanor, expressing it with desperation instead of resentment, as if I were broken. I was calm, then angry, then a contradictory smile. I couldn't figure out what expression to put on. My throat tightened, my chest heaved with pressure. My eyes burned with a burning heat. I pleaded, barely able to contain the emotions that were about to burst forth.
“Noah. I will end this war, not you. Don’t leave me alone.”
What should I do with this emptiness when I'm left alone?
I have nothing but you. I can't do anything. I don't even have a reason to exist here. You wanted me to be passive and dependent, right? You shouldn't have tamed me like that and left. I don't want you to die. Sorrow welled up to my chin, choking me. Noah's blue eyes widened slightly as he looked at me, then narrowed again, and curved gently. I grabbed his arms with both hands and held them tightly. He, who had been led obediently by my hands, didn't respond. He just looked at me with pitiful eyes.
***
“Ted, are you in the Princess’s room?”
Baroness Mason, who had rushed from the banquet hall, asked Ted, who was standing guard in front of the door. Ted shook his head with a stern expression.
“It is there, but no one can come in right now.”
“Why? Isn’t she alone?”
He kept his mouth shut. The Baroness, who had known that Noah had come to the palace, quickly noticed what was happening in the Princess's room and sighed.
“...I guess I can’t keep quiet.”
“I know that, and the Princess knows that too.”
“Yeah, you’re still at that age.”
Zelda brushed back her curly black hair, her expression a bitter one. It was a portrait too heavy, bordering on tragedy, to be dismissed as mere youthful exuberance.
“Does it have to be like this?”
The door slowly opened behind the Baroness, who turned around, muttering to herself. Baroness Mason narrowed her brows and scolded the man with silver-white hair who emerged from the door.
“Don’t you know very well that that won’t work?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
Noah, who answered dryly, was dressed neatly, without a single flaw. His tie was neatly tied, his uniform neatly pressed to the point of perfection, supporting his claim that nothing had happened. Noah, still receiving the suspicious gaze, smirked and asked Baroness Mason a question.
“And what does that have to do with anything? Is a maid interfering with the private lives of royalty?”
"It's a matter of the heart, isn't it? The Princess won't be able to let go of her attachment to you. It'll hurt."
“I hope so.”
“You know it’s selfish, right?”
Noah smiled at Baroness Mason's cold words.
“I’m the same way.”
With those words, Noah turned around and walked past the Baroness and Ted with a soldierly, measured gait.
Ted grabbed Baroness Mason's arm as she tried to ask him more questions.
“Zelda, you know it wasn’t Captain Rotsilt’s fault.”
“I know. But if they meet now, it’ll only be painful for both of them.”
"It's not something a third party can judge arbitrarily. We just need to fulfill our roles."
Baroness Mason, who had freed her held arm, sighed deeply and watched Noah's back as he walked away.
Noah walked down the central hallway with a blank expression.
Vincent, who was standing in the corner of the hallway, offered Noah a cigar as he walked by, but Noah shook his head.
“I don’t smoke.”
“Are you really getting a divorce?”
"That's why they called me back. I need to sign it myself. There's nothing I can do about it now."
Vincent, frowning, rubbed his chest and tugged at his tie a couple of times, seemingly frustrated. In contrast to him, who seemed at a loss, Noah stood upright, expressionless.
“What’s the situation? Are you currently on standby near the fortress?”
"It's all the same. We do what anyone who survived a battle can do. We play poker, drink, and meet women. I don't do anything but drink a glass of cognac."
“You must be tired.”
“Yeah, it’s not fun.”
"Wasn't our purpose accomplished long ago? I don't see any reason to participate. If we go to the Republic of Kappel, Jayce Groenendaal will help us."
The tide was turning in favor of the Allies, and the possibility of their defeat was being raised. Having received this news in advance, wealthy, privileged citizens of other countries and deserting Allied officers were desperately seeking asylum in the permanently neutral state of Kappel.
"I can't go now. The capitalist powers are completely divided. One side wants to invest in Frogen's victory, while the other hates it. Right now, the former has the upper hand."
"Still..."
The forces that hope for Frogen's victory will not leave Medea's Princess, Diana, alone. Sadly, this is where she is safest.
Noah rubbed the back of his neck with a tired look on his face.
"I'm not confident we'll arrive safely. I'm familiar with finding my way, but I don't know how to get there together."
Vincent kept his mouth shut, worried. He must have considered everything anyone could think of. That man's calculations must have already concluded it would fail. If he were alone, he would have tried it, but he's changed, and he's afraid. Perhaps he's afraid of losing something precious.
“Vincent, tell the Princess our secret.”
Noah tapped Vincent's shoulder twice and walked past him. The sound of retreating boots grew heavier. Vincent stared at his back with bitter eyes.
He sighed deeply and wiped his face as if washing it dry.
“I told you, you’re a partner whose true intentions are truly unfathomable.”
***
After Noah left, I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling.
"It's annoying."
Looking back now, the beautiful ceiling painting on the high ceiling seemed messy and untidy. I wanted to smash it, to throw things at it and break them. Is this how people lose their minds? I became so sensitive that even the slightest noise made my hair stand on end, and I was suffering from the excruciating noises of all kinds of situations colliding inside and outside my body.
“Yes, Diana. I’ll be back later.”
It was Noah's dry response to my earnest plea not to go. With those words, he left the room immediately. Noah's only reason for returning to Loganfield was to sign divorce papers.
“Are we really getting a divorce?”
It feels like I've consumed everything in the nearly six months since he left. I can't even try to recapture my daily life with him, nor can I pretend to be expressionless or indifferent.
Even standing is difficult, and even talking is a bother. I don't want to see anyone. I don't want to do it. At the end of the agony of burning to the ground, only gray ash was piled up.
The wait for Noah to return became more arduous, so I took out a few sleeping pills I'd been saving for a long time and popped them in my mouth. When I finally fell asleep, Noah appeared in my dream.
He was looking down at me like the demon from the grotesque painting titled Nightmare in the hallway of the Frogen mansion.
Behind the red curtain, a stallion, his breath emitting a white puff, pokes his head out and looks at me. It's the old horse that carried me to Belford and ran until the very end before passing away.
Countless shards of broken glass slowly scattered before my eyes. I felt a strange familiarity with this scene.
At one point, I felt like I'd experienced death. I shook my head nervously, trying to dispel the bizarre fantasy. Noah, who had been quietly watching me, spoke in a mournful voice.
“It was all for you.”
Those words overlapped with those of someone from the past, but I couldn't pinpoint who it was. The more I tried to remember, the more my consciousness became disjointed and distorted. Shaken by guilt and loss, I knew this was a dream, but I also knew that his death, always lurking behind me, could become reality. To me, it was a tragedy in itself, a torn limb spewing blood.
“Noah, I didn’t want that.”
It's like a sacrifice. I just want to be together. Whether it's happiness or unhappiness.
In my dream, he just smiled sadly and didn't answer. He didn't even hug me.
When I opened my eyes, the sun was already rising outside the window. The drug had clouded my vision, and I was in pain, but I quickly came to my senses and jumped up, focusing my gaze on the dimly overlapping clock hands. It was 8 a.m., morning. Eileen, who had been summoned, came in politely. I asked in a hoarse voice.
“Did Noah come while I was sleeping?”
“He didn’t come.”
“Be honest.”
“...You left Loganfield at dawn.”
Noah, who had said he'd come later, never showed up. No, it's too early to tell. I can't be sure until I see it with my own eyes. He's a man of his word, so there must have been some other reason. It could also be Eileen lying.
I stared at Eileen with cold, distrustful eyes. No matter how hard I glared, she wouldn't give me the answer I wanted. Her eyes simply turned red, as if she couldn't bear the sadness.
Eileen's expression was one of human sympathy, an apologetic expression. At the same time, a tear, echoing my own, fell at my feet. My stiff lips moved with difficulty.
"Word..."
Don't say it.
“Captain Rotsilt signed the divorce papers.”
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