In the Kyle Territory of the Der Province, nestled within the Garrel Kingdom, lies Maple Leaf Village. By the riverbank, a young woman with a white headscarf was washing clothes.
It was already late autumn, but the southern climate of Kyle Territory kept the temperatures mild. Yet, the cold river water still made her hands pale from the chill.
"Leah! Tia's calling you home for dinner!" A middle-aged woman with a headscarf shouted from the village entrance.
"Got it, Aunt Mary!" Leah responded cheerfully. She quickly gathered the clean clothes and set aside the unwashed ones for another day.
As Leah finished packing up, she noticed Aunt Mary still waiting for her at the village entrance. Smiling, she hurried over with her wooden basin full of clothes.
"Aunt Mary, let's go!" Leah said warmly, holding the basin in one hand and looping her other arm around Mary's.
"Tia is so lucky to have such a good daughter. I'm envious!" Aunt Mary sighed with genuine admiration.
"Aunt Mary, your sons are wonderful too. We couldn't have managed this year's harvest without your family's help," Leah replied kindly.
"Hah! Those boys of mine are only good at eating and lazing around!" Aunt Mary retorted with her characteristic bluntness.
Leah covered her mouth and laughed softly.
"To be fair, your brother is the real pride of our village. He's already a squad leader after just a few years. Who knows how far he'll go?" Aunt Mary continued.
Leah's smile dimmed slightly as she thought of her brother, whom she hadn't seen in years. "Tom's doing well too, Aunt Mary. A third-class soldier—everyone in the village speaks highly of him."
"Only because of your brother, Cæsar. I've always thought that boy was sharp," Aunt Mary said, her tone filled with pride.
The two walked together through the village, exchanging warm words with the villagers they passed. Most of the young men were away serving in the military, leaving behind parents and elderly folk.
When they reached a modest courtyard on the western edge of the village, Aunt Mary said her goodbyes and walked to her home next door. Leah waved as Aunt Mary disappeared into her yard before turning and entering her own home.
The courtyard gate was a simple wooden structure, recently repaired. It creaked softly as Leah pushed it open.
"Mother, I'm home!" Leah called out as she entered.
Leah was the elder sister of Cæsar, and this modest courtyard was the home where Cæsar had spent the first fourteen years of his life.
"Ah, Leah, you're back!" An elderly man with gray hair, Old Locke, sat on a wooden stump in the courtyard, smoking a long pipe. He was Cæsar and Leah's father.
Commoners had no surnames, only given names like Cæsar and Chassie. However, nobles were different—they had family names, crests, and lineage that represented their social standing. Only the head of a noble house, such as Baron Kyle, was formally addressed by their surname. Young nobles, like Master Soren, were referred to by their given names.
"Father, how many times have I told you not to smoke so much?" Leah chided gently as she set the wooden basin down.
"Cough… cough… With only a few years left in me, let me enjoy a small vice," Old Locke muttered as he extinguished his pipe and tucked it into his waistband.
Leah smiled faintly, then brought a small stool and began massaging her father's back.
"Ah, having a daughter like you is a blessing," Old Locke sighed with contentment. He often thought that adopting his elder sister's daughter and raising Cæsar were the two best decisions of his life. Few knew Leah wasn't his biological child—only the older villagers and his wife were aware of this secret.
Before long, the aroma of food filled the air. A middle-aged woman with crow's feet at the corners of her eyes and graying hair emerged from the house, carrying a bowl of flatbread and corn cobs. This was Tia, the mother of Cæsar and Leah.
The meal was simple—just flatbread, a few corn cobs, and a bowl of soup made from boiling corn water with a handful of wild greens. It was modest but heartwarming, a common meal for most peasants in the kingdom.
The three of them sat on small wooden stools around a stump, eating quickly to ward off the chill of the autumn wind. The inside of their home was far too small for shared meals—it was barely twenty square meters, divided into a kitchen, a room for Old Locke and Tia, and a room shared by Leah and Cæsar. With space so limited, they performed most daily tasks in the courtyard.
Dinner was a quiet affair. The three often found themselves thinking about Cæsar, whose usual spot at the table now sat empty. Old Locke chewed on a corn cob, occasionally sipping from his soup, while Leah and Tia nibbled delicately at their bread.
"Grain prices have gone up again in town," Tia remarked.
Unlike Tom's family next door, the Cæsar household lacked able-bodied men to tend their two acres of land. With only Old Locke's aging body and the efforts of Leah and Tia, their harvest barely sustained them. They relied heavily on the money Cæsar sent home.
"It can't be helped. No one has surplus grain these days," Old Locke replied. "How much of last month's money is left?"
"I saved half, and we have about thirty copper buc left," Tia answered.
"That'll do. The baron's caravan should return soon…" Old Locke trailed off. Though he spoke hopefully, there was always a fear lingering in his heart—the fear of receiving bad news about Cæsar. Every time the baron's caravan returned, it brought not just supplies but also letters of condolence for the families of fallen soldiers.
"Don't think like that," Tia said gently. "Cæsar has been doing well. Now that he's a squad leader, he earns more. We've saved up quite a bit—it's time we considered finding him a good wife."
Old Locke nodded in agreement. "You're right. He's of age now."
After dinner, Leah and Tia cleaned up while Old Locke tidied the courtyard, locked the gate, and carried the stools back inside.
The night settled quickly over the village, and most families had already retreated into their homes.
In her small room, Leah removed her white silk headscarf and carefully placed it in a small wooden cabinet alongside a pale green one—both gifts brought by merchants at Cæsar's request. She brushed her fingers across the fabric, her mind drifting to her brother. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she quickly shut the cabinet.
Leah lay down on her wooden bed and gazed at the empty bed beside hers. The space felt cold and lonely. Hugging herself, she closed her eyes, memories of her little brother flooding her mind—the mischievous yet caring boy she used to cuddle to sleep.
In the stillness of the night, Leah whispered softly, "Stay safe, Cæsar."
Outside, the wind rustled the trees, carrying her silent prayer into the dark sky.