A sound woke me.

  Two knocks.

  Short. Dry.

  That door only sounded like that when whoever was inside needed help—fast.

  I stepped into the hall barefoot.

  The lamp in the living room was lit.

  My mother stood with her back to me, holding the door open.

  I got closer.

  And then they came in.

  Ren.

  And her.

  And between them—

  The old man Beld, wrapped in an worn blanket.

  They laid him down gently.

  The blanket was neatly placed.

  But one hand had slipped out.

  The other hung, limp, without strength.

  I saw it.

  And something inside me twisted.

  I could hear my own pulse echoing in my ears.

  「…no… no way…」

  My mother whispered it.

  Soft, but heavy.

  She didn’t ask what happened.

  Didn’t accuse anyone.

  Didn’t panic.

  Just sorrow.

  「Bring him here.」

  She pointed to the cot in the back room.

  They carried him.

  My mother adjusted the blanket with quiet care.

  No checking for a pulse.

  No questions.

  She didn’t need any.

  Her face said enough.

  「…he told me, once.」

  Her voice was barely audible.

  「That one day, something might happen.

  He never explained what.

  Just said that if his grandson ever showed up hurt…

  and brought someone with him…

  we were to help. Without asking.」

  The girl nodded.

  Her face was tight.

  Her clothes were torn and smudged.

  Her eyes were dry—empty in a way that didn’t look like weakness.

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  And yet she spoke.

  「I am the rightful heir to the throne… Serélyne Thiseriya d’Aelwen.

  And he—Ren—is the Staff.」

  「…But neither of us fully understands what that means. Not yet.」

  「Beld-san told us with his final words.

  His house was attacked because they were after me.

  But once they realized Ren was alive…

  that became important to them too.」

  「So—we cannot return.」

  Her head lowered.

  But she kept going.

  「We never intended to drag you into this.

  But if anyone stays near us…

  danger will find them. Sooner or later.」

  My mother simply nodded.

  I looked at Ren.

  I expected clenched teeth.

  A yell.

  A spark of anger.

  Something.

  But—nothing.

  Ren sat with his elbows on his knees, his head bowed.

  Like something inside him had fallen apart,

  and he didn’t know how to pick it back up.

  「…You’re leaving then?」

  Serélyne didn’t answer.

  She didn’t have to.

  「The looks at the market.

  The doors closing.」

  「I ignored all of it.

  But now… I get it.」

  I turned to my mother.

  「I’m going too.」

  She didn’t argue.

  Just met my eyes.

  「I don’t know where we’re going.

  But if I stay here…

  I’ll regret it.」

  Ren wouldn’t stand still.

  So I wouldn’t either.

  「And if he leaves like this—barely able to think straight—

  he’s definitely going to do something reckless.

  Someone will need to patch him up again, right?」

  My mother opened a cabinet and pulled out a blanket, a waterskin, and a pouch of herbs.

  She handed them to me without a word.

  「…Your father is going to be furious.」

  She didn’t look at me when she said it.

  「Pack your things.」

  When I rushed back, Ren and Serélyne were already sitting.

  Ren leaned against the wall.

  She sat beside him, holding the bell carefully in her lap.

  Staring at it.

  Without making it ring.

  I sat across from them, placed my pack at my side.

  No one spoke.

  The silence broke when she whispered:

  「…I’m sorry.」

  Ren didn’t reply.

  He just moved his head a little.

  Barely enough to be called a nod.

  Or a refusal.

  Or anything.

  In the next room,

  Old Man Beld lay still.

  And outside,

  the night of Thiseiya drifted onward

  as if nothing had happened.

  But we knew better.

  We couldn’t stay.

  And nothing—

  nothing—

  would ever go back

  to the way it was.