Chapter 183
Snow was falling.
At first, it fluttered down like feathers.
As the night deepened, it piled up softly, accumulating under the moonlight that illuminated midnight.
He left the first footprints on the unfolded white snowfield.
Squeak—soft, whispering footsteps.
In that sound, Count Frontera turned his head.
“Aren’t you cold?”
“No. Not really.”
His son’s reply came back at once.
The Count smiled as he looked at Lloyd’s profile beside him.
Just having him at his side made him proud.
He was simply pleased, his heart full.
“I wonder if this father is just troubling you for no reason.”
“What are you saying? I’m fine.”
“Are you perhaps getting sleepy?”
“No, not yet.”
“Then shall we walk a little more?”
“I was just about to suggest that myself.”
“Haha. This fellow, really.”
Laughter escaped him again.
He was happy to see him—again and again.
He was almost saddened that the breath of his laughter briefly obscured his son’s face.
Still, he was truly happy, walking through the night like this.
‘I’ll have to send him away again for a while.’
He had only just returned after a long stay in Namaran.
Yet after only a few days, he had to leave again—joining the special envoy and heading to the Sultanate.
If he went this time, when would he return?
Would he see him again by the time spring flowers bloomed next year?
Perhaps that was why.
Lloyd had come to his study at night and suggested a sudden walk.
“Tell me if you get cold or sleepy. You’ll be leaving far away again tomorrow morning.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not very sleepy.”
“Is that so.”
“Yes.”
They walked in silence again.
Side by side. Sometimes one a little ahead, sometimes one behind.
When the path looked slick, the Count reached out a hand.
And so they strolled slowly—past the mansion hills, along the stone walls, through the forest paths.
As they walked, old memories stirred to life.
Watching snowflakes gather on his son’s shoulders, the Count spoke before he realized it.
“When this father was young.”
Lloyd listened quietly and matched his pace.
As they walked together, the Count steadied his breathing and continued.
“I truly hated this territory. It felt stifling, boring, and tiresome.”
He smiled faintly.
It had been exactly like that.
To his seventeen-year-old self, this land had looked like a huge fence.
“I thought it was just the countryside. I hated living without a name as a minor noble tucked away in some rural corner.”
“Did you have ambition?”
“Ambition… I’m not sure. It was closer to recklessness.”
The Count let out a quiet laugh.
“I wanted to do something. I wanted to achieve something grander and brighter than living a flat, uneventful life in the countryside. Maybe it sounds ridiculous, but I wanted to play in bigger waters. I wanted to make a name for myself. So… I ran away from home.”
“Are you saying it was a runaway?”
“Hm.”
Lloyd raised an eyebrow, surprised, and glanced over.
The Count returned a bitter smile.
“Runaway. It stings because it’s so direct, but I can’t deny it. I left in the night without telling your grandfather a word, riding off on the horse he treasured most. If that isn’t a runaway, what is?”
“Yes, it certainly is.”
“Perhaps that’s why. Perhaps I was punished. I suffered a great deal after that.”
“What do you mean by suffered?”
“I joined a mercenary band. I wanted to succeed with my own strength—foolishly determined to prove myself. And I regretted it.”
His bitter smile deepened.
“Think about it. Who would trust and make use of a seventeen-year-old boy whose only experience with a sword was swinging it in practice with friendly guards? That’s why. The mercenary captain didn’t put me to real use. I spent about three months doing nothing but chores.”
“You must’ve been disappointed.”
“At first. I wondered if that was all I was worth. But I endured it. I thought an opportunity would come someday. And… it did.”
“What kind of opportunity?”
“I met a girl there.”
“Oh.”
Lloyd’s eyes brightened.
The Count chuckled softly.
“It must have been a day like this, with snow falling. The mercenary captain called for me. There was a girl around my age being held there. He said she’d committed a grave crime and was caught, and told me to watch her closely so she wouldn’t run. He said she would be sold as a slave.”
“And then?”
“I asked her quietly if it was true. She said it was a lie. She said the captain and his men had looted her village. That’s when I learned the truth.”
“That mercenary band… when they didn’t have work, they robbed and looted?”
“That’s right. That’s why they only gave me chores.”
“So what did you do after you found out?”
“I ran away. With that girl.”
“Safely?”
“No.”
The Count smiled brightly.
“I ran at midnight, but they caught up before the morning sun rose. I drove the horse madly, carrying her with me.”
His gaze lifted to the falling snowflakes as he spoke, eyes tracing the past.
“I ran as hard as I could. But they were relentless. No matter how much I fled, I couldn’t shake them. In the end, on the sixth day, they surrounded me.”
“But you’re standing here alive, so it didn’t end badly.”
“It didn’t. Because your grandfather arrived then.”
The Count continued.
“I didn’t know—running like that—but the place where I was surrounded was near the western border of our territory. That’s how your grandfather found me. From the day I ran away, he patrolled the outskirts of the territory every day, all day long, without missing a single day.”
“Was it because he was worried his son might come back?”
“He must have been. Anyway, because of that, he reached me in time and drove the mercenaries away with the territory’s guards.”
“So your runaway ended there.”
“That’s right. The greatest adventure of my life ended.”
“Then what happened to the girl you ran away with?”
“She became your mother.”
“Wow.”
Lloyd clicked his tongue.
He’d always thought the Count and his wife were unusually affectionate.
He hadn’t known they had a story like that.
“Anyway, because of that incident… this father finally understood how much your grandfather cherished me. Just as this father looks at you now.”
“……”
“Are you embarrassed?”
“Uh, well… it’s not that.”
“Then?”
“Can I be honest with you?”
“Of course.”
“I got goosebumps for a moment.”
“Hm? Hahahaha!”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, no. Even this father thinks that’s understandable.”
The Count chuckled and patted Lloyd on the shoulder.
In truth, he didn’t care if his son got goosebumps.
If he could, he wanted to say more.
That he cherished him with all his heart.
That the greatest masterpiece of his life was you.
So please come back safe again this time.
If that happened, this father would have nothing more to wish for.
Even if he stayed up all night.
Even if he walked until dawn.
He wanted to tell him.
But he swallowed it down.
He didn’t want to burden his son.
And he wanted to give him time.
‘Until the day you call me Father again.’
His son had changed one day.
He had abandoned his dissolute past and become diligent.
But at the same time, he had erased the words father and mother from his mouth.
The Count was happy and pleased by his change, yet bitter and sad as well.
Even so, he vowed not to show it.
His son had to open his heart on his own.
It was a name he had to choose to say himself.
So all a parent could do was wait.
No matter how long it took.
It was fine if it took a long time.
Someday, he hoped his son’s heart would open fully.
With that waiting heart, the Count walked on slowly.
Lloyd left footprints beside him, side by side.
‘Hoo.’
Lloyd sighed without the Count noticing.
In truth, Lloyd felt it too.
The fact that he never called the Count and his wife Father and Mother.
The fact that they cared about it.
He couldn’t not know.
That they were hurt.
That they were also quietly sorry.
He knew… but he couldn’t do what they wished.
‘I’m sorry. I don’t want to pretend.’
The Count and his wife were good people.
Lloyd knew how dearly they treasured him.
That was exactly why he didn’t want to fake it.
He didn’t want to use the titles of father and mother just to sound nice.
That would be an insult to those kind people.
It would be taking advantage of their pure hearts.
He never wanted to do that.
So—
‘I’m sorry. Please wait a little longer.’
Until he was ready.
Until he could accept, without shaking, the guilt of replacing the real Lloyd—who had been a scoundrel, but their true son.
Until he could speak honestly with a sorry heart.
When the day came that they could accept each other as family—
Honestly.
Sincerely.
Only then would he be qualified to call them his parents.
“I’ll try too.”
He couldn’t say it aloud.
He muttered it as if only to himself.
Between the silently falling snowflakes, he couldn’t see what expression the Count wore beside him.
He didn’t dare turn and check.
But he could feel it.
Softly, like feathers.
Comfortably, within the deepening night.
Because the moonlight caught a mouthful of the Count’s breath spreading in the air—
A trace left by a quiet smile.
♣
Morning came.
As planned, Lloyd joined the special envoy.
Of course, Javier went with him.
“Hehehe.”
“……Why are you smiling so sinisterly?”
“Are you uncomfortable?”
“Yes. Very.”
Javier frowned at Lloyd’s question.
His hands, loading luggage onto the horse’s back, grew a little rougher.
“Are you happy I’m coming with you?”
“Yes.”
“Why would that make you happy?”
“Because I don’t have to suffer alone.”
“You’re happy to suffer together?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“I’m happy that you’re suffering too.”
“…….”
“It’s unfair if I’m the only one who has to go and suffer. So I have to drag at least one more person in. I have to make someone roll around with me. That way—oh, I’m not the only one in the world going through this. At least one other guy is rolling around as much as I am. Oh, I’m not the only unlucky one. A sense of relief will sprout anew, won’t it?”
“……You devil.”
“Huh? What did you say?”
“I cursed you as a devil.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“…….”
“At least it’s better than being a pushover.”
Lloyd smiled shamelessly.
Javier couldn’t help but laugh at it—and regretted it immediately.
‘I should have called him a mole cricket.’
That would’ve been far more effective than devil.
The silver-haired knight vowed to use it next time.
In the meantime, the envoy finished its preparations.
The departure was not grand.
“I express my sincere gratitude for Count Frontera’s generosity in sparing no support for the envoy’s stay. Then, farewell.”
With Count Ventura’s farewell, the special envoy departed the territory.
Lloyd and Javier also greeted the Count and his wife, then left with the group.
The journey east continued.
They crossed the eastern mountain range.
They crossed the wilderness.
They reached the border of the eastern Sultanate.
They declared the envoy’s diplomatic purpose to the legion commander guarding the border.
From there, the journey became safer—and faster.
The group was a diplomatic envoy officially dispatched by Her Majesty the Queen Alicia Termina Magentano.
In other words, they carried Her Majesty’s will and represented her position.
With that level of treatment and respect, they crossed the Sultanate’s lands.
At last, they arrived at the capital—Ahinsa.
It was exactly the twenty-fourth day since they had departed Frontera Territory.
“Wow.”
Lloyd blurted it out as soon as they passed through Ahinsa’s gates.
‘This is properly exotic.’
Far east of Frontera Territory.
And then far south again.
Perhaps because of that location, the air was hot and dry—
Even in midwinter.
‘If I were directing a film adaptation of Arabian Nights, I’d pick this place for the set.’
Arabian Nights.
The city’s atmosphere was exactly that.
The round-roofed towers rising everywhere.
The mud-baked, sun-dried walls lining the streets.
Without exception, it all radiated an exotic mood.
“Please come this way.”
An official who seemed to have been sent by the Sultan came out to greet them.
Everyone followed him into the palace.
In the meantime, Lloyd was busy studying the palace structures.
‘Wow. This is educational.’
Exotic architecture stood everywhere.
Architecture wasn’t his specialty.
Architecture and civil engineering were different fields.
But they shared roots, and in front of unfamiliar structures, it was only natural for his eyes to shine.
After being guided deeper into the palace for some time—
At last, the reception room doors opened.
But what awaited them inside was…
“Isn’t there some kind of mistake?”
Count Ventura’s embarrassed voice rang out.
At that, Lloyd looked into the reception room.
There was nothing.
The interior was too simple.
Too cramped for a palace.
Even the tables and chairs looked out of place, unsuited to the occasion.
It wasn’t merely plain—it was sparse.
Crude, even.
In other words…
“There seems to be some mistake. We are a special envoy who has come a great distance in accordance with the will of Her Great Majesty the Queen Alicia Termina Magentano. Yet you place us in a reception room unfit for us. Surely the Sultan does not mean to greet us here?”
Count Ventura’s flustered question was directed at the Sultanate official.
The envoy’s attendants also stared with doubt.
Only Lloyd wore a faint smile.
‘Hehe. Look at these guys.’
A mistake?
No chance.
There was no way the Sultan would be that sloppy.
So this was an open display of disrespect.
The first in the group to realize it, Lloyd kept a wry smile on his face.
Just then, a door deeper inside the reception room opened.