"Well then, see you next time!"
Later that evening, Roen returned to her room, her cheeks still flushed. Haran, her face alight with anticipation, couldn't wait to hear how things had gone with Lord Bi Young. Roen gave a dreamy, distracted reply.
"Haran."
"Yes, my lady. How was your time with Lord Bi Young today? I saw him briefly—he was just as magnificent as they say, and so tall!"
"He… he called me a heavenly maiden."
Blushing deeply, Roen covered her cheeks with her hands. Haran gasped, "Oh my, oh my!" She practically squealed, fussing over Roen as if she herself had just gotten engaged.
"See! I told you, my lady. It's only because you rarely dress up. You're as lovely as a fresh lily!"
"Really? Do you think so?"
Roen's eyes sparkled, as if she'd never heard such praise before. Haran replied without missing a beat.
"Absolutely! If it weren't for that darn sword of yours! You'd look like a true lady!"
"Oh, come on! Asking a warrior to put down their sword? That's asking a bit much, don't you think?"
Roen pouted, her lips sticking out. Haran sighed inwardly, thinking, Well, this conversation is going in circles, as usual.
"Anyway, let's try to be a bit more ladylike until the wedding day, shall we, my lady?"
"Hmm, I'll... try my best."
As Roen stood there looking a bit awkward, Young approached her, locking his serious gaze onto hers. Haran, sensing the tension, had already fled the room like an arrow, her face flushed as she thought, I shouldn't interrupt their time together!
"I hope my sudden visit doesn't trouble you?"
He glanced at Roen's nightwear—a white silk gown adorned with delicate yellow Golden Marigold patterns—as he spoke.
Roen, appearing flustered, fiddled with the hem of her nightgown and bit her lower lip. "Well, it was a bit sudden."
There was a distinct sharpness to her tone, making Young suppress a laugh, amused by her immediate response.
"They say you're not meant to see each other on the eve of the wedding..."
As if recalling a snippet of information she had heard somewhere, Roen fidgeted and murmured under her breath.
"I couldn't wait another day to see you."
"...Oh."
"I heard you're going to be the most beautiful bride in the world."
In an instant, her earlier exclamation from that night resurfaced in her mind, causing her ears to burn crimson.
"Rushing to see my daughter the moment you got here? Honestly, you're impossible."
The unexpected sound of that well-known, authoritative voice from behind made Roen turn. Her father, Daphman, head of Schuleman, was approaching with a friendly, wry smile on his face.
He looked as though he had just finished discussing the festival arrangements with the nobles, dressed in simple yet dignified dark blue attire.
"Papa!"
"Oh, Roen."
Bi Young stepped forward and offered a courteous nod. "I am Bi Young, firstborn of the ruler of Byro Kingdom. I extend my greetings to the Supreme Commander of Schuleman. My apologies, Father—I should have come to see you right away."
Daphman chuckled warmly. "No need for apologies. Besides, I must say, being called 'Father' is rather delightful!" He gave Young a hearty pat on the shoulder.
"If you don't mind, could I have a brief word with my daughter in private?"
"Of course, sir."
Young gave a respectful bow before excusing himself from the room.
Once he had gone, Daphman looked at Roen silently, his gaze softening. The lines around his eyes deepened into warm creases.
"My, how our little girl has grown."
"Father..."
"This father feels at ease, knowing that Bi Young is a dependable and principled man."
His gentle voice made her heart swell, and she fought to hold back tears. Daphman's expression grew a shade more serious.
"As for your request," he continued, "I've ordered the announcement to be posted. By tomorrow, everyone in town will see it on the walls."
"...Thank you, Father."
"There's a chance he won't see it. Or… he might not even be around anymore. Will you be all right if he doesn't come?"
"Of course. It doesn't matter."
Roen met her father's concerned gaze with a gentle, reassuring smile.
"But this is a once-in-a-lifetime wedding for me."
"..."
"I just wanted him to know," Roen murmured, her voice soft but resolute.
"To see how well I've grown, how well I'll live. I want to show it with my head held high. It's fine if he doesn't come."
Daphman's gaze softened, his tone laced with quiet sorrow. "Did you really have to break your father's heart like this?"
Roen bit her lip. "...I'm sorry."
Her father's broad back, which had always seemed so strong and dependable, felt unusually small and fragile tonight. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. A warm, comforting silence enveloped them.
With eyes brimming with tears, she whispered, "Thank you, always."
"Save those words, Roen," he replied softly.
"I'll always love you, Dad."
"May you live a good life, my child."
"...Sniff."
According to tradition, newlyweds were expected to live in the groom's ancestral home for three years after their marriage. Roen would be leaving for the Byro Kingdom immediately following the wedding ceremony.
"If things get tough, come home anytime," Daphman assured her, his voice filled with unwavering warmth. "Your father and Schleiman will always be here for you."
Roen nodded, her heart full of gratitude.
As the day slipped into night, only a scattering of stars lit up the deep, inky sky. The village, bustling with excitement for the festival tomorrow, gradually fell silent as the night deepened and people retired to their homes.
The dark, empty streets lay deserted, save for the occasional elder sweeping away stray leaves or a passerby hurrying home.
At that moment, a man cloaked in a dark robe moved swiftly through the quiet streets. Like an outsider, he walked with cautious steps, casting wary glances around him, yet no one took notice of his presence.
In his hand, he carried a worn leather bag, its dark surface marked with strange red patterns.
Moving hurriedly, his eyes darted through the shadows until he suddenly stopped, his attention arrested by something ahead.
For a moment, he stood utterly still.
His gaze had locked onto a white poster affixed to a large brown gate, his eyes narrowing as they zeroed in on a simple wooden necklace sketched prominently on the poster. His pupils trembled as he stared at it, unblinking.
Step by step, the man approached. His face twisted in disbelief, a grimace of anguish flashing across his features.
In the center of the poster was an illustration of a purple necklace with a wooden pendant. Engraved on the pendant, in flowing script, were the words Yeonhwa, Lynn my lights, accompanied by the radiant smiles of a woman and a young girl.
Beneath the necklace, elegant script read:
ㅡ Roen, daughter of Schleiman and owner of this necklace, joyfully invites you to her wedding on a verdant summer day. Your presence would be a delight. ㅡ
A coarse hand slipped from the sleeve of his gray robe, its fingers trembling as they reached out to gently trace the words.
"...Lynn."
The man's eyes turned red, filled with tears that spilled over, silent and unrestrained.
The hood of his dark robe, drawn low over his brows, fell back, revealing strands of hair streaked with gray.
"Lynn... Lynnie..."
"Alive... you've been alive. How… how can this be…"
He murmured in disbelief, his voice thick with emotion. Slowly, as if the weight of realization had crushed him, he slumped to his knees, the impact resonating in the stillness of the empty street.