In the cellar, there were barrels upon barrels of wine. The dark basement smelled of cedar wood and fermented liquor; Vivian couldn't imagine how long these barrels had been sitting. Unfortunately, she was unable to ask either. It was now understood why Gerald needed help lugging them upstairs.
"About three of them should suffice. You can start with that barrel over there, and I'll carry the other." He pointed to his left at the end of the stairs. If it weren't for the faint light from the lantern downstairs, the barrel wouldn't be visible.
Vivian nodded and went over to pick up the barrel. She had the confidence to lift it due to her continuous high-volume activity as a maid. Frequently she carried large bags of rice, potatoes, and other materials into the estate she worked at.
However, upon trying to lift it, she found it more difficult than expected. The weight was not only heavy, but it was also uneven as the liquid inside continued to slosh around.
Gerald stared at the pitiful sight of the young man attempting to lift the barrel. He shook his head. Clearly, this man lacked any training. The young man lifted it an inch above the ground once but could not walk with it.
"Maybe we can take the barrel upstairs together. You seem to be struggling, and I doubt you can make it up the stairs with those thin arms and skinny legs."
Vivian felt her face going hot at the realization that her previous skills in lifting didn't carry over into the new scenario. 'I could lift it solo if I had more time, I'm sure.'
She reluctantly nodded her head in agreement to carry the barrels together. 'Besides, the man said he only needs 3. Perhaps it'll shorten the time it would've taken us to pick it up individually.'
"Well, with you being such a huge fan of the knights, at least be grateful they didn't get a chance to see that sad display of strength. Perhaps if you ever decide to turn your admiration into action and join the knights one day, you should consider strength training."
Vivian sighed and gestured toward the barrel in front of her.
Gerald chuckled and walked over to the barrel. "Ah yes, you're right, forgive me. It was presumptuous of me to assume you'd like to join the royal knights…. I suppose I'm also just bitter as I didn't decide to join them myself."
Vivian tilted her head and inspected the man. Taking in his thin frame and seemingly frantic personality when faced with problems, it was hard to imagine him as anything other than a barkeep.
Gerald noticed the curious gaze he was receiving. "I know what you're thinking. How could a man like myself ever aspire to be a knight? I wasn't always like this. I was once a young man, filled with vigor and passion."
Vivian's eyes widened slightly at the realization that her incredulous thoughts were shown through her facial expression.
However, he continued to speak. "It's okay. It doesn't offend me. There was once a point at which I thought I couldn't wield a sword either. I come from a family of skinny and fragile people. My family tried to discourage me from joining the war efforts as I was their only son, but I was convinced the first time I touched a sword that nothing else mattered to me."
Vivian gave this man her full attention as she was curious about what led a swordsman to be a barkeep.
"I practiced day and night, preparing for what I thought would be my chance to shine as a knight. I became well known among the knights as an exceptional swordsman. I wanted to show that just because I appeared to be as delicate as a rose didn't mean I couldn't have thorns…."
Vivian's ears perked up at that statement. She, too, had initially been treated as a flower, but unfortunately, her petals had long ago been plucked. She had been too ignorant at the time to realize that just because one enjoys the presence of a flower doesn't mean they won't destroy it for their amusement. She had ignorantly thought that the man who hurt her did so only out of fear of losing her, so as he stole bits and pieces of her essence, she was happy enough at the time to have just sometimes been on the receiving end of his affections.
She wished she'd had thorns; she'd wished she had the common sense to fight back; she wished she had the vengeful spirit back then that she had now.
"…but I was selfish. I neglected my responsibilities as a man, a husband…and a father." His voice cracked slightly on the last statement.
"I became obsessive over proving myself and getting stronger that I neglected what really mattered. Had I been there for my wife… our baby would have seen this world. I… stressed her to the point where she miscarried…."
The pain reflected in his eyes made Vivian want to wrap her arms around the man in a hug.
"I'm shocked and ever so grateful everyday that she forgave me and that we were able to heal together. I lost sight of what was important."
A heavy silence hung in the air. After some time the older man spoke again.
"He might've been somewhere around your age today." The older man looked at her as if he saw his son, his eyes misted, and he fought back the tears.
Vivian could only look at the man sympathetically. She could resonate with being unable to fulfill her role in her past life. After years together and years of trying, she was unable to conceive, and the treatment she received from her husband worsened. Edgar had wanted a son, and sometimes she thought that maybe if she could give him a child, the man he used to be would reappear.
She had begun to excuse his behavior towards her even more because she couldn't fight back the guilt that she could not conceive as a woman.
"Sorry young man, I guess I just see something in you that reminds me of myself. Or maybe being in your presence makes me think about who my son could've been…. but me and the misses are way past childbearing years now."
Vivian's eyes began to mist over when suddenly Gerald slapped a hand on her back.
She fell forward slightly and had to catch herself by grabbing the barrel. She stared at the older man, upset that he nearly popped her shoulder from her socket. For a small man, he was still pretty strong.
"Of course it could also be those thin chicken legs that once resembled my own! Aha, what the hell are we getting so soft over, lad? Perhaps the few drinks I'd had have been clouding my mind. Anyways let's get this upstairs." He gestured towards the barrel, and Vivian and he both lifted it to take it upstairs.
As they carried the barrels upstairs Vivian began to get lost in her thoughts. 'Maybe I should try to let it go… just take this opportunity to go to a new town and start a new life for myself.'