Chapter 13: “That name I had to forget, the name I had forgotten.”

Whether it was because she had cried herself to exhaustion, the owl’s cries had faded, leaving the room shrouded in an eerie silence.

In the unsettling stillness, Esil bit her lower lip anxiously, noticing the grim expression on Rosell’s face—a look she had never seen before.

Though she had almost overcome her habit of biting her nails, she hadn’t yet shaken the tendency to gnaw at the inside of her lower lip.

Unable to endure her mounting unease, Esil finally spoke first.

“M-Master… is something wrong?”

“…No, not yet.”

“Oh… but your expression doesn’t look good…”

“…Does it? I didn’t mean to make it seem that way. Forgive me.”

Rosell offered a faint, awkward smile.

Yet the forced nature of the smile was all too obvious, leaving Esil unable to mirror it.

“Ah, n-no… I wouldn’t dare ask for forgiveness…”

“Esil, look at me.”

“Yes? Y-Yes, Master?”

At Rosell’s sudden command, Esil raised her head. His light blue hair was disheveled, and his complexion appeared slightly pale.

For some reason, she could sense a similar anxiety emanating from him—a feeling not unlike her own.

“Why… why are you looking at me like that, Master?”

“…I came here today because I have something important to tell you.”

Rosell’s voice was firm, and his expression carried a resolute gravity, as though he were preparing for a final stand.

Esil, too, couldn’t help but tense up in response.

“What… what do you mean?”

“Tomorrow marks the beginning of Silia’s three-day birthday celebration.

One day will be her birthday party, and the following two days will be grand banquets.”

“…Yes.”

“You’ve heard of this, I see.”

“Lady Silia mentioned it to me…”

“She hasn’t told you anything else, has she?”

Esil shook her head nervously, her expression tight.

The weight of the atmosphere Rosell exuded was unlike anything she had ever experienced.

“…King Brickal will be attending.”

At Rosell’s short statement, Esil felt as if her heart had plummeted into an abyss.

Her emerald eyes widened in shock, trembling as if they were unable to focus.

Her breath caught in her throat, and a terror she had momentarily forgotten surged back into her chest.

Rosell gazed at the frozen Esil with sorrow in his eyes.

He detested the circumstances that forced her into such fear. Yet, there was nothing he could do.

Every year, both Silia’s and his birthdays were celebrated with grand banquets, always attended by the king and the empire’s most prominent nobles.

Now, with a slave branded a traitor under his protection, deviating from this tradition would only invite suspicion.

Opportunists would pounce on such a vulnerability to spread rumors or incite the king’s ire.

The aristocratic world was akin to walking a tightrope, where even a single misstep could lead to ruin.

With enemies constantly watching, leaving any gap was out of the question.

In light of that, Rosell’s only option was to comfort the terrified Esil.

“…Do not fear too much. This is the Rosell estate, and even the king cannot act recklessly toward you here.”

But it was a lie—a sorrowful lie.

King Brickal’s infamous debauchery, arrogance, and cruel temperament made it almost certain that he would attempt to degrade her again.

The rumors about her were already likely swirling in the capital.

Brickal would undoubtedly be curious about why a favored subject of his had taken in a traitorous slave.

And, to satisfy that curiosity, he would no doubt seek to humiliate Esil.

Yet Rosell didn’t want to speak of events that hadn’t yet happened, especially when there was a slim chance they might avoid the worst.

Instead, he reached for something on the table, sliding it toward Esil.

It was a small, thin potion vial filled with a green liquid, no larger than his middle finger.

“Keep this with you.”

Esil extended her hand, but her trembling, brought on by the mere mention of “Brickal,” made it impossible to grasp the vial.

Seeing this, Rosell took both of her hands, gently placing the green potion into them before closing her fingers around it.

“M-Master…”

The warmth of Rosell’s touch momentarily steadied her trembling.

Her cheeks flushed lightly, and the chills wracking her body subsided slightly.

“Carry it with you, and if you are summoned to the banquet hall, make sure to drink it.”

“…Drink this? Why?”

“It numbs pain for about an hour after consumption.

Not that I’m saying there will be pain… it’s merely a precaution.”

“Master…”

Esil clutched the green vial to her chest tightly.

She was grateful. Where else could one find a master so considerate as to care for a lowly slave’s pain?

Yet, her overwhelming fear could not be dispelled so easily.

Esil bowed her head deeply, her expression filled with gratitude.

“Th-Thank you…”

“Yes. I want you to always remember that I care for you like this.”

“I know. Master is a kind person.”

Rosell offered a soft smile. He felt a quiet pride—his efforts to win her trust and occupy a place in her heart were bearing fruit.

“Good. Now, rest. I’ll take my leave.”

Rosell rose from his seat. In just a few hours, carriages carrying noble guests would arrive.

He couldn’t afford to greet them in a disheveled state and intended to get some rest.

Yet, as he turned to leave, Esil grabbed his hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“What is it?”

“Starting tomorrow… it’ll be difficult, won’t it?”

Her voice was calm, almost resigned, as though she had already accepted the terror that awaited her.

Looking up at him, she asked the question with quiet composure, as if adapting to the fear that consumed her.

Rosell clenched his teeth, swallowing the sorrow welling up inside him.

But outwardly, he showed no sign of it. As her sanctuary and protector, he couldn’t afford to show weakness.

“…I don’t know. All I can do is hope the storm doesn’t come.”

“It’s okay…”

“What do you mean?”

“If you’re by my side… I think I can endure it. I’m not alone anymore, am I?”

Her heartfelt confession pierced Rosell’s chest.

The reality that all he could offer someone who placed their faith in him was a mere potion to numb her pain weighed heavily on him.

Yet, he spoke calmly, as if to shield her from his own turmoil.

“…That’s right. You’re no longer alone.

And I will stay by your side, no matter what. So, don’t be afraid. You’re stronger than you think.”

“But…”

Rosell looked down at Esil as she continued, her voice steady but soft.

“Please tell me. The reason why you bought me.”

Esil’s bright smile carried an unshakable hope at its edges, yet also a sorrow that was impossible to describe—a smile that seemed to understand the fear awaiting her but still tried to rise above it.

Her words struck a chord deep within Rosell, and he felt his chest tighten.

He met her gaze, and in her clear emerald eyes, there was no hesitation, no avoidance.

“If I know why… I think I’ll be able to endure everything. Master, please.”

For a long moment, Rosell remained silent. His complex emotions swirled as he gazed into her determined eyes.

“If I tell you… will you promise to endure anything, no matter what storms may come, for my sake?”

Esil nodded without hesitation.

The sincerity Rosell had shown her had already moved her heart.

His kindness, so uncharacteristic of a noble, had swept away the deep distrust she had harbored for the aristocracy.

If it was him, she thought, she could believe and follow him.

Rosell carried an air of strength and uprightness—a figure so solid and trustworthy that he seemed like he could command an entire era.

Under his shadow, she felt she could rest and find peace.

Without any doubt or reluctance, Esil answered, “Yes.

Please tell me why you bought me.”

But Rosell’s expression was unusual.

There was no sadness, no joy—only the faintest trace of fear flickering in his eyes.

“I’ve been waiting for this day… but now that it’s here, I find myself afraid.”

“…Afraid? Why?”

Rosell gave an awkward smile. It was sincere, but its sincerity came across oddly, as if tinged with unease.

“A pleasant fear, you could say…”

His voice was soft, almost wistful, as he murmured the words.

For him, this moment was something he had only ever imagined—a longing, a wish that had fueled his dreams.

Now that it was finally coming true, he couldn’t deny the twinge of fear he felt. But even so, Rosell didn’t hesitate.

This was the moment he had yearned for, the moment he had lived for without ever looking back.

Surely, he could allow himself to rest, if only for a moment.

With that resolve, Rosell suddenly opened his arms wide.

“…Wh-Why are you doing this?”

“This is my answer—to why I bought you.”

“Pardon…?”

“Come here, into my arms. I’ll tell you the reason.”

Esil hesitated at Rosell’s sudden gesture, but her hesitation didn’t last long.

If he had tried to take her on the first day, she would have loathed him, condemning him as just another depraved noble.

But now, she understood.

Rosell—her master—was not that kind of person.

He wasn’t someone who sought to take her but someone who wanted to hold her.

With a radiant smile, Esil let her golden hair shimmer as she ran toward him, nestling herself into his wide embrace.

Rosell buried his face in the space between her shoulder and neck, wrapping his arms tightly around her slender frame.

How much had she endured with this small, delicate body? How much pain had she borne with this tender, fragile heart?

Overcome with emotion, Rosell felt his throat tighten.

Esil, sensing the depth of his feelings, rested her head against his chest.

Her sweet scent tickled his senses, and the warmth of her in his arms felt like a long-held dream finally realized.

Rosell’s arms trembled slightly, his breath quivering as well.

He had lived for her, endured for her.

The difficult days seemed worthwhile now, as her warmth and presence soothed the memories of his struggles.

With trembling hands, Rosell raised his right arm to gently stroke her back, patting her as if to console not just her, but also himself.

He understood well that suffering wasn’t his burden alone.

No, his own struggles were pale compared to hers.

As he tenderly caressed her small back, Rosell murmured, “You’ve been through so much… Truly, you’ve endured so much. Esil, thank you. Thank you for holding on.”

“Master…”

Perhaps his feelings reached her.

Esil felt she understood the reason why Rosell had bought her.

Rubbing her cheek against his chest, she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.

It was warm.

Comforting.

And vast.

As though all the hardships and trials of the past had led her to this moment, Rosell’s embrace was overwhelmingly kind.

For someone who had longed for a place to lean on, his arms felt like a beacon of hope.

Still holding her close, Rosell whispered softly, “I have so many things I want to tell you… but I’ll share them when the time is right. Will you wait by my side until then?”

Esil smiled sweetly, snuggling into his embrace. “Yes, I’ll wait.”

Though his heart yearned to tell her everything, he knew that there were stories she wasn’t yet ready to hear—stories she might never fully understand.

For now, he simply held her tightly, silently promising to be her shield against the storms to come.

“Rest here, beside me. And if you ever fall into the fires of hell, I’ll follow you in and pull you out myself… Emilia.”

“Master…”

That name—Emilia.

A name forgotten.

A name that should have been forgotten.

Hearing it, Esil wept hot tears in Rosell’s arms.

And that morning marked the beginning of a grand three-day birthday celebration and the noble estate’s banquet.

The first carriage to arrive in the estate’s garden was none other than that of Resilus de Delmaron, the Mage Tower Lord of the eastern and western lands of the Elond Kingdom.

Alongside him was his daughter, Resilus de Viela.