Time of the Blind Beast - Chapter 117

“If I let you go and say I’ll wait, will you come back?”

Lisanne quietly lowered her eyes.

“Even if it takes a year, even if it takes two, it’s fine. Time doesn’t matter. Learn everything you want to learn, and if there’s something you want to do, do it all before you return. Whenever it may be, it’s fine. As long as you come back.”

In truth, he wanted to stop Lisanne from leaving.

If Lisanne had shown even the slightest hesitation, if she had left him even the smallest chance to hold her back by saying, “I want to return to school,” or “I’m thinking about going back to school,” he might have done so. If she had shown him a single smile, if she had been in just a little less pain, if she hadn’t lost her voice—if he could be honest, he would have taken any excuse at all.

Even at this moment, his mind was desperately searching for reasons to keep Lisanne from leaving.

If he let her go, he would surely regret it.

He would spend every day living in frozen time.

Yet there was one reason he could not bring himself to say, Don’t go.

Because it was better for him to regret than for her to regret.

“I know now where things went wrong, but I didn’t know back then.”

There was no way to recover from this regret.

“If I could go back and undo all of it… even if it meant losing my sight again, I would gladly endure it.”

A look of confusion flickered in Lisanne’s eyes.

She was the one who had stood at the front lines of his struggle, watching the painful process of how he had escaped withdrawal and finally undergone surgery to restore his vision. She had fought through it with him.

Back then, Major, you were in pain.

A relationship that can only be sustained by one person’s suffering is not right.

“Still…”

Ezekiel gave a bitter laugh. Since Lisanne would not smile, he had to do it himself.

“Back then, you loved me.”

***

Ezekiel tried to arrange an escort to take her comfortably and safely to Milena Girls’ School, but Lisanne refused.

I had been riding stagecoaches back and forth between home and school alone since I was much younger.

One morning, she found a pouch full of gold coins quietly left for her. Enough to hire a carriage all to herself, enough to live in luxury for years without working, spending freely.

Lisanne opened the pouch, then set it back down. She didn’t need that much money. She had already consumed an enormous amount in food, clothing, lodging, and medical care here. He had even taken responsibility for her parents.

Besides, if she had wanted a wealthy life, she would never have decided to leave the mansion in the first place. She had entered with nothing, so it was only right to leave with nothing.

Only clothes and shoes were exceptions. When she had lost consciousness and been dragged to the detention camp, the few belongings she had were long gone. His subordinates hadn’t bothered to bring back her things left at the inn either. The bloodstained clothes she had worn in the camp had long since been discarded by Ezekiel.

When she asked him for plain traveling clothes and sturdy shoes, he immediately led her to the dressing room. Lisanne was taken aback at the sight of dresses, coats, gloves, and shawls filling the room wall to wall. Many of them were still untouched, brand new.

“They were all prepared to fit your body anyway. They were all yours.”

After hesitating for some time, Lisanne chose the plainest-looking dress among them. The other dresses seemed more suited for a noble lady’s procession than for a traveler.

She steadily prepared to leave. The only thing she failed at was persuading her parents. With Ezekiel serving as interpreter between them, it was in some ways an inevitable result. Her parents could not accept their daughter’s decision to abandon promised wealth and prosperity to return to the freezing north.

After much thought, Lisanne decided not to say goodbye. Quietly erasing her traces and disappearing would be enough.

She cleared her bedroom of every trace of herself and left behind a pair of gloves she had finished knitting on the table.

When you feel the urge to scratch yourself until you bleed, wear the gloves.

The workmanship was clumsy, not something worth showing off. The wool gloves didn’t even match the uniform he wore, and he had plenty of gloves that were far more expensive and finer.

Still, if he wore the soft woolen gloves and scratched his body, they would keep him from leaving raw scars that bled. Ezekiel had never again shown her the sight of suffering from withdrawal, but opium was a drug that allowed no carelessness. Even when one had barely managed to overcome it, it was all too easy to fall back again. Lisanne wanted Ezekiel to remain a victor, at least when it came to the drug. It was the most meaningful result among the things she had helped him with.

After changing clothes and firmly tying the laces of her shoes, Lisanne stepped out of the mansion with a casual stride, as if only going for a walk.

From spring, she returned to winter.

Following the straight road out, she left the wealthy district where the Valdemaira mansion was located. From then on, the familiar scenery of Claris stretched out before her.

Once she reached the outskirts, she found a modest dress shop for ordinary citizens. Lisanne pointed at a gingham dress displayed there and gestured to ask if she could exchange it for her own.

“With your dress, miss? You’ll be at a loss.”

Lisanne knew that too. But wearing the expensive dress Ezekiel had prepared for her while traveling alone would only make her the perfect target for thieves.

The shopkeeper stared at the dress she was wearing, then gave a bewildered nod.

Lisanne picked a sturdy, plainly woven dress, not a pretty one. She also exchanged her coat while she was at it. The better the clothes, the more noticeable they were on the outside. Shoes hidden beneath the hem of her skirt, she kept as they were. The shopkeeper, burdened with receiving clothes far too costly, even handed her some money in return. Lisanne accepted it. Now, with this money, she would have enough to cover her fare to Cielsa.

To reach Cielsa, she would have to change stagecoaches several times. Knowing the way well, she did not look around nervously but went straight to the station, where she saw the long line of people waiting and naturally joined the end.

This had been her original life. It was not the world adjusting to her, but she adjusting herself to the movements of the world. Sometimes hurrying, sometimes waiting. The days she had lived in the Valdemaira mansion, receiving others’ one-sided care, had been nothing more than a fleeting abnormality.

If she waited, eventually the stagecoach would come, and rattling along, no matter how far the destination, she would arrive.

Lisanne was staring vacantly at the station when she unconsciously turned around.

She flinched in shock. Inwardly, she even let out a silent scream.

At a slight distance stood Ezekiel. Not in his usual uniform, but in plain clothes, a rifle slung over his shoulder, one hand holding a horse’s reins.

Had he come to see her off?

Perhaps he came to watch over her departure. She had left as quietly as she could, so when had she been found out? He had followed without making a sound, so she had no idea. Maybe she had been walking so absentmindedly she hadn’t noticed.

If he had been following since the mansion, then he had surely seen her stop at the dress shop and change clothes. Though it hadn’t been her intention, she had ended up selling off the coat and dress he had prepared for her right in front of his eyes.

Was that something she should be ashamed of? After a moment of tangled thoughts, Lisanne decided to push aside the turmoil and simply turned her head away.

After all, wasn’t she leaving to sort out her heart?

Just then, the stagecoach arrived. It was too small for the number of waiting passengers. She thought she should wait for the next one and stepped back, but she felt it—an insistent gaze, pricking and burning faintly at the back of her head.

She didn’t need to turn to know.

Whose gaze it was, and why it followed her so persistently.

Once she became conscious of it, she felt it even more clearly. Standing with her back to the man watching her, staying firm, was no easy task.

Her spine stiffened.

This would be the last time.

She should at least say goodbye, wishing him well…

“Miss, get on.”

“Let’s all squeeze in a little. Who knows when the next stagecoach will come?”

The passengers already seated hunched their knees and shoulders to make space for her. Swept along, she squeezed in among them. When she belatedly looked around, her view was already blocked by the silhouettes of other passengers.

The horses snorted. The stagecoach, filled with people, jolted as it started off.

She did not see his last figure.

***

Lisanne was the last long-distance passenger to get off the stagecoach. Her limbs ached from sitting too long on the uncomfortable seat. Stepping down onto the ground, she rubbed her weary arms and legs, when behind the departing coach, she saw a figure dismounting from a horse.

“……”

What?

She thought she was mistaken.

Even after crossing an entire city, Ezekiel was there again.