In the deep darkness of early dawn, Lia Hurst stood staring blankly up at the night sky.
‘I wonder if Ian is all right…’
Her body was weary, and her head throbbed as if she could fall asleep at any moment. But whenever she tried to lie down, worry for Ian kept surfacing, banishing any chance of rest.
On the same day he traveled to the imperial capital to receive his title succession—a day that should have been full of celebration—he lost his mother. Could there be anything more heartrending?
Even Lia, who merely watched, found it unbearable that on a day deserving of congratulations, all Ian received were anxious inquiries tinged with worry.
‘If I feel like this, I can’t even imagine how Ian must be. He must be completely beside himself.’
Although there had been discord between Leticia and Ian, the bond between parent and child could never be so easily severed.
No matter how strained their relationship might have been, the death of a family member was bound to stir something deep in one’s blood.
That was likely why Ian Volkanov had not shown himself all afternoon.
‘He must be troubled. I thought he might not grieve, but the heart never obeys so easily.’
In truth, Lia Hurst wanted nothing more than to rush to him right now, hold him close, and comfort him, telling him everything would be all right.
Yet she couldn’t simply barge into his room when she had no way of knowing the depths of his sorrow.
All Lia Hurst could do for Ian was just one thing.
‘I need to help Ian through this hardship. Especially since there’s no Erina Igor or anyone else right now.’
She might be clumsy, inexperienced, and even an outsider to the Volkanov household’s affairs, so she couldn’t take over the family responsibilities.
But surely she could help with a few tasks for the funeral.
In fact, she’d spent the entire afternoon assisting the housemaids, helping prepare food and other necessities for the funeral ceremony.
“Because we anticipated this, the preparations are almost finished. That means there should be some breathing room now.”
Once all the preparations were complete, Ian Volkanov would have to appear sooner or later. At that time, she would simply help him wholeheartedly in his grief.
“Haah… I can’t sleep anyway, so maybe I’ll go out for a walk and get some air.”
Even when she closed her eyes and tried to stay still, concerns about Ian sprouted endlessly, refusing to let her be. Unable to stand it any longer, Lia Hurst jumped up from the bed.
Since she wasn’t getting any sleep anyway, maybe taking a stroll around the mansion in the cool air would tire her out enough.
After grabbing a simple coat, she quietly opened the door and stepped into the corridor.
“Excuse me, may I ask where you’re headed?”
“Oh, I can’t sleep, so I’m going for a short walk.”
“I see. Please be careful.”
“Yes, thank you for your trouble.”
After a brief nod to the guard patrolling the corridor, Lia Hurst slowly descended the central staircase.
She’d just reached the first floor when she noticed something.
“Huh? Why is there light in the dining hall…?”
She had thought no one would be there at this hour, yet a small light was shining from inside.
Light at this time? Could someone be doing something in there?
‘I’m sure I turned it off before I left last time. They wouldn’t be preparing breakfast already, would they?’
The Volkanov family allowed their servants and retainers to share meals in the mansion’s dining hall, so those who handled the meals usually started preparing breakfast early in the morning. But not as early as two in the morning.
If they were preparing breakfast, there would also be some noise. Yet it was quiet.
‘Then maybe they’re getting a head start on the funeral food?’
At that, Lia remembered what the head maid had said.
Thanks to her help, the food preparations were almost complete. She said she could manage the rest on her own now.
By that logic, maybe someone had decided to get up even earlier to finish the preparations, thus having more time to focus on other matters in the morning.
‘Well, if they’ve nearly finished, they could cast a preservation spell on the dishes, and they’d last several days without issue. Perhaps they’re just trying to get everything done now.’
If that were the case, helping out would be more productive than going for a walk. After all, her plan was to tire herself out anyway.
‘It’s better if I lend a hand.’
With that thought, Lia Hurst headed quietly toward the dining hall, careful not to disturb them.
She peeked inside—and what she saw made her pause.
“…?”
“Ian…?”
“…”
Sitting alone with only a single small lamp for light, Ian was silently spooning stew into his mouth.
Lia called out to him, but he gave no answer and continued eating quietly.
Tilting her head, Lia stepped into the dining hall.
***
Ian wordlessly continued to eat the stew that Leticia had prepared for the last time.
Not because he was hungry, nor because it was delicious—no reason like that at all.
Alternating between looking at the letter and the stew caused a surge of emotion he couldn’t name, and the only way to keep from crying was to keep shoving it into his mouth by force.
If he stopped, he felt he would burst into tears immediately. As he continued to mechanically spoon more stew into his mouth—
Swoosh!
“Don’t just eat stew on an empty stomach. How about having some of this along with it?”
“Lia. You’re awake?”
Just as he leaned on the faint light, Lia Hurst approached silently, carrying something that would go well with the stew.
Steam rose, and the aroma drifted out—clearly, it was freshly cooked.
‘Lia came up, cooked something, and I didn’t even notice. I’ve just been shoveling this down…’
At the absurdity of it all, Ian let out a hollow laugh.
Lia looked at him with worry in her eyes.
“If you were hungry, you could’ve said something.”
“I wasn’t eating because I was hungry… At first, I only planned on drinking some water. But when I opened the cold box, I found this with a letter.”
“…A letter.”
“They say it’s the last letter my mother wrote before she died. Isn’t that ridiculous? If she wanted to feed me a warm meal so badly, she could’ve just said so. Leaving it hidden like this—what was she thinking? If I’d found it any later, it might have spoiled.”
“Ian…”
“At first I felt so stupid about it I wanted to throw it away. But strangely, once I read the letter, I couldn’t bring myself to discard it. So I had no choice but to eat it. And every time I forced another spoonful down, I got choked up, and I hated myself for it.”
He hated Leticia.
It wasn’t a hatred borne from personal malice toward her as a human being.
There was another reason.
If she was going to leave, if she was going to close her eyes so pointlessly—would it have been so hard to say just once, ‘I’ll cook you a meal before I go, so please eat’? Why hide it and leave like this?
“If she was afraid, she could’ve at least said something.”
He resented the selfishness of Leticia’s actions, leaving secretly out of fear, and at the same time, he hated himself for devouring the final meal she left behind as if obeying her unspoken wish.
Rage and frustration swirled inside him. Ian gripped the spoon so tightly his hand trembled.
“Perhaps… that’s how precious it was to her.”
“What?”
Ian stopped trembling and looked straight at Lia.
“What do you mean, precious?”
“I’m not your mother, so I can’t read her heart. But at least for me… if it were my last memory with my child, I’d want to leave with only happy thoughts. Once you close your eyes, you’ll never see them again. If you leave with regrets, it would be painful.”
So maybe she did it because it was too precious to bear leaving any regrets behind…
“Could that really be the reason…?”
Because their final moments together meant so much to her, she didn’t want to leave with any lingering regrets. And so she vanished this way.
“Damn it…”
Suddenly, the tears he’d been holding back poured forth, and Ian bowed his head low.
“It’s all right. Just this once, go ahead and cry, Ian.”
Lia quietly embraced him as his body began to shake. They stayed like that for a while, letting time pass gently.
***
It didn’t take long for his surge of emotion to subside.
After about ten minutes, Ian managed to gather his feelings and regain his composure.
They chatted softly, and Ian finally got around to having the dinner he’d skipped before.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve been helping the retainers prepare for the funeral, but I—”
“No, it’s fine. I only helped because I had time. Don’t worry about it at all.”
“I was too out of it to pay attention. I really appreciate what you’ve done.”
Seeing Ian speak with a small smile, Lia realized he’d recovered somewhat, and she showed some relief as well.
“I think I can stay until the funeral is over and help out, so you don’t have to worry until then.”
“‘Until then’? Then after that…”
“It’s not set in stone yet, but… to be honest, I want to take some time off.”
“Time off?”
What kind of ‘time’ did she mean?
“Do you have something to do?”
“Yes. I’m planning to take a leave of absence from Ark Academy and travel around the continent for a while.”
“Travel around the continent?”
Traveling the continent… The idea made Ian’s shoulders tense slightly.
“If it’s just travel, you don’t need to take leave. You could go during break.”
“It’s not just for travel. My main goal in moving around the continent is to improve my skills.”
“If it’s for honing your skills, it’s not entirely strange, I suppose…”
Indeed, the Kallos Empire was home to many masters, but it didn’t mean other places had nothing to offer.
After all, there were elf communities in deep forests, unique peoples with great powers in places like Edenria, and other strong, culturally rich territories scattered across the continent.
A prime example would be Vishen, which had recently been absorbed into the Empire.
A place so renowned for its martial arts that even Duke Bernogia went there to learn—such a place was worthy of being called the “holy land of fighting techniques.”
If she traveled the continent, she would surely reap great rewards in training. That much was certain.
Yet, even so, Ian found it difficult to fully support Lia’s journey.
Sensing his hesitation, Lia forced a smile and continued speaking.
“I want to become someone precious to you, Ian.”
“To me, you’re already one of the most precious people in my life.”
“Hehe, that’s a relief. But I don’t just want to be someone special in your heart. Ultimately, I want to become someone who can be of help to you.”
“Help…?”
“I’ve been thinking about it lately, and I feel like I’m far behind everyone else. I’m not exceptional with the sword, so I can’t help you that way. Nor am I particularly good at handling affairs. I’m… I’m lacking.”
To be honest, Lia felt that she wasn’t much help to Ian at all.
Just compare her to the people around them.
“I’m really not that extraordinary. Eri can handle spirits with ease, studies well, and above all else, she often helps you directly. But I make a lot of mistakes, don’t I?”
In terms of handling matters, martial prowess—every category, really—she lagged behind. And any advantage she might have had from her noble birth would be overshadowed the moment Eri’s true identity and abilities came fully to light.
You might say it’s only because she’s comparing herself to Eri?
But even if she compared herself to Celia, Reina, or Bianca, her only superior attribute would be her family name.
And even that fell short in some ways—Celia’s Wignoron House was famed for its spear arts and regarded as one of the empire’s pillars, making comparisons to the Hurst family pointless.
‘True, Celia hurt Ian before.’
But at the very least, Celia had risked her life in battle against Satan, protecting Ian at great risk to herself.
What, then, had Lia done?
“I’m just so lacking… No matter how often you say it’s fine, I want to be of real help to you, Ian.”
She had only ever watched over him, encouraging him softly. But never had she once been truly helpful in a significant way.
That fact slowly but surely chipped away at her self-esteem.
“And that’s why I decided to travel the continent for a while. If I roam various places and improve my skills, I might gain something that can help you.”
“…Lia.”
“It’s a shame to leave, but… there’s no other way.”
Lia’s expression darkened as she forced the words out, and then she posed one last question.
“Will you… not forget me if I leave, Ian?”
She was asking if it would be all right, if he’d remember her.
There was only one answer Ian could give.
“Lia… So that’s the full reason? You want to be someone who can help me?”
“Huh? Um, yes…”
“If that’s truly your entire reason—if all you want is to help me…”
“…”
“Then don’t go anywhere. Stay by my side.”
At Ian’s words, Lia’s eyes went wide.
