After turning the thugs over to the authorities, Edwin escorted Lina out of the dark alley. With every step, the atmosphere seemed to grow lighter, until they finally emerged onto the street where the festival was still ongoing.
“It looks like quite a bit of time has passed,” Lina whispered, noticing the dwindling crowds and vendors beginning to pack up their stalls.
“Indeed,” Edwin replied, more to break the silence that had fallen between them than to actually answer her.
“We should probably head back now,” Lina suggested, sounding weary from the events of the night. Her violet eyes were heavy with sleep, though thankfully, there was no trace of fear towards Edwin.
“Let me walk you home,” Edwin offered, relieved that she wasn’t scared of him after everything that had happened.
“Thank you,” Lina accepted, too tired to argue. They walked together in silence, the midnight streets quiet around them. Lina, who usually initiated conversation, was too worn out to speak.
Edwin tried several times to find the right words, but before he knew it, they had arrived at Lina’s street. The familiar green roof of her house came into view, and Lina’s expression brightened slightly. In contrast, Edwin’s heart grew heavier, though he couldn’t quite explain why.
Just before they were about to part, Edwin finally found his voice.
“I just remembered—I still owe you that meal,” he said, as if the thought had just struck him.
“Oh, I had completely forgotten about that!” Lina replied, surprised. The memory of the festival felt like it was from a different time altogether, as if it had happened years ago.
Edwin chuckled softly, sharing in her amusement. The light feeling in his chest returned, and he took a deep breath, savoring it before exhaling quietly. But the unease lingered.
Before Lina could say her goodbyes, Edwin’s instincts urged him to speak again.
“Would you give me another chance?” he asked, the words surprising even himself. Lina’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she didn’t seem displeased.
Emboldened by her reaction, Edwin pressed on. “Are you busy tomorrow?”
As soon as the question left his lips, he regretted how eager he sounded.
“Actually, I have plans tomorrow,” Lina said, her tone apologetic.
“How about the day after?” Edwin asked, more cautiously this time.
“I have to work then,” Lina answered, her voice softer, almost hesitant to disappoint him again.
Edwin’s heart sank as he fell silent, feeling the sting of rejection. But then, Lina spoke up again, her voice filled with gentle laughter.
“But the day after that, I’m free. How about you, Sir Roxas?”
“That works for me,” Edwin replied quickly, seizing the opportunity. He wasn’t going to let this chance slip away.
After making their plans, Lina bid him goodnight and headed inside. As Edwin watched her retreating figure, he couldn’t help but think she looked like a small squirrel, scampering away into the night.
Just then, fireworks exploded above their heads, casting colorful lights across the sky. Whether it was a noble’s extravagant display or just an early celebration, Edwin didn’t know, but it felt like the perfect ending to the night.
* * *
The next morning, as soon as daylight broke, I headed to the temple with Connie.
‘Even though my faith is as small as a hamster’s claw, at least it gives me some peace of mind.’
Connie rubbed her sleepy eyes as she watched me make a donation and receive a sacred relic from the temple.
“So, why are we here so early in the morning?” Connie whispered as soon as we stepped away from the priest who handled the relics.
“It just feels like too many bad things have been happening lately,” I sighed.
Connie’s eyes sharpened with concern. “Did something happen?”
Her gaze fell on the small bandage visible at the collar of my blouse. I quickly explained yesterday’s events in a low voice, trying not to worry her too much. I left out the more frightening details, but Connie acted like I’d narrowly escaped death.
“Well, thank goodness Sir Roxas was there,” Connie said with a shiver as soon as I finished.
“I was lucky,” I agreed. Connie leaned in, her voice serious.
“I’ve heard stories about retired soldiers causing all sorts of trouble lately.”
“At least the security forces are being reinforced, so things should start getting better,” I reassured her.
“They’d better,” Connie muttered.
The war had dragged on for nearly a decade, and while the empire had gained the laurels of victory, the economy and social order had worsened compared to the early days of the previous emperor’s reign. Still, there was hope that things would improve, given time.
‘We’re not in the worst situation, just a tough one,’ I thought, lost in contemplation.
Meanwhile, Connie was peeking into her purse, staring at the long line forming around the temple’s soup kitchen.
“Oh, my conscience won’t let me ignore this,” she grumbled, tossing a gold coin into the donation box. It was rare for her to open her beloved reward pouch that she’d clung to so tightly in recent days.
I followed suit, dropping a few silver coins into the box.
“Let’s hope the temple actually uses it for charity instead of pocketing it,” Connie said loudly enough that several priests glared in our direction.
“Your voice is way too loud!” I hissed, but it was too late. I grabbed her arm and hurriedly dragged her out of the temple.
Only when we were far enough away, with the temple barely visible, did Connie start boasting that she’d done it on purpose. It was obvious bravado, nothing more.
“I wanted them to hear that,” Connie declared. “Everyone knows the temple takes half of the donations for themselves.”
Connie, who had grown up in a temple-run orphanage, grumbled with justified annoyance.
“But they do use the other half for the poor,” I pointed out.
It was the only reason the temple still had a place in the empire—just corrupt enough to be irritating, but not enough to justify abolishing it altogether.
In reality, it was a bit more rotten than people realized.
“If it weren’t for the temple, charity would come to a complete halt,” I added, trying to mollify Connie.
After all, the heroine would soon arrive to cleanse the temple of its corruption.
“You know there are good priests, like the one who helped connect you with your patrons,” I reminded her.
Connie reluctantly nodded, though she didn’t look entirely convinced. She made a silly face toward the temple but then quietly followed me as we made our way back to the festival.
Connie’s mood gradually lifted as we approached the bustling streets.
“It’s been so long since we’ve had a proper festival,” she said excitedly.
I’d been here the day before, but this was Connie’s first time, and she was thrilled. While it was fun to explore the festival with Sir Roxas, enjoying it with someone as animated as Connie was an entirely different kind of joy.
We wandered the streets, our wrists heavy with bags filled with trinkets, and eventually, our hunger led us to the food stalls.
First on the list was some cold fruit juice. Despite the chilly weather, walking around had made us thirsty.
After finishing the juice, we began looking for something more substantial. As I scanned the area, I spotted a familiar stall.
“Look, that place is really good,” I said, pointing to the skewer stand I’d visited the day before. I led Connie over, paid for two skewers, and handed one to her.
Connie took a big bite and gave me a thumbs up. “You’re right, this is really good.”
She chewed thoughtfully before asking, “Did you come here with Sir Roxas yesterday?”
Distracted by wiping the sauce from my lips, I answered absentmindedly, “Yeah, it was open yesterday too.”
‘Oh no.’
I realized too late that I’d hit a nerve. My cheek tingled in anticipation of Connie’s reaction. Slowly, I turned my head to see her grinning mischievously, her skewer momentarily forgotten.
“You did, didn’t you?” she teased.
“Did what?”
Her words were laced with suggestion, and I couldn’t help but raise my voice in protest. Connie only grinned wider, her tone playful.
“Had a date.”
It was a more innocent word than I expected, but I still couldn’t agree with something that wasn’t true.
“It wasn’t a date,” I grumbled, firmly denying her claim.
Connie wasn’t fazed by my response. “When a man and a woman enjoy a festival together and share street food, that’s what we call a date.”
Connie, clearly enjoying herself, continued to pester me with teasing questions.
“So, when’s the wedding?”
“When did you realize you were in love with Sir Roxas?”
Her questions were relentless.
“Are you asking about my wedding or Sir Roxas’s? Because I’ve never felt that way, so I can’t answer,” I said, maintaining a firm defense against her playful attacks.
And in that moment, I vowed to keep my upcoming meeting with Sir Roxas a secret until the day I die.
