"No, we are the same kind of people."
Kent shook his head, letting out a deep sigh.
"It doesn't matter if I'm a noble, a member of the Highland Alliance, or even human," he said. "It doesn't matter. Not when former slaves from other tribes have joined us, or when half-orcs and barbarians who didn't leave Splitting Blade's mercenary band have also joined us. If different races can unite and move toward a shared goal, why should those differences matter?"
"Talking like this, you'll be seen as a traitor by the Highland Alliance. Aren't you afraid?" Water Stream asked, her gaze fixed on him.
"A traitor?" Kent laughed. He'd never truly fit into this world. Everything he had experienced and all he sought to change revolved around his personal life. But to change his own life, he had discovered, meant having to change so much more. Did it even matter if they labeled him a traitor?
Even as a royal heir, he had little to look forward to. At best, he could inherit a manor, a few plots of farmland, and the right to employ slaves. But oppression from those at a higher level would always loom above him.
"This is the borderlands. Did you forget that? Why would I care about being labeled a traitor? I've always been one!" Kent said firmly. "Two hundred years ago, the Scarlet Continent was a different place, just as it was a century ago, and fifty years ago. Back then, the Highland Alliance was merely one of three major coalitions. And now? The two or three hundred Highland tribes have dwindled to just a few dozen. Where have they all gone? What about the Forest Alliance? Even the once-mighty Prairie Alliance has disappeared."
Water Stream's gaze flickered with a hint of confusion.
"Who decides I'm a traitor? Just because I'm different? No—it's because I'm weak, and they can oppress me as they please. Just like how they treated your Blood Rose band," Kent said, his eyes lingering briefly on her neck before shifting away. "I want to change all of that."
"But they're too powerful," Water Stream replied. "That's why we had to hide here in the borderlands."
"Hiding isn't a solution. And why should we hide? Even wild beasts have their vulnerabilities. And even a grazing mountain goat has sharp horns," Kent said, quoting an old hunting proverb.
"Besides, you're a wolf," Water Stream remarked, a faint smile playing at her lips.
"Exactly. I'm a wolf, and not just any wolf—a leader of the pack," Kent said, smiling back.
"You just said it doesn't matter if you're human. So tell me, what does matter to you?"
"Living matters," Kent said, stepping closer to her. He met her eyes, speaking each word slowly. "How we live and the kind of people we want to become—those are what truly matter."
The kind of person one wants to become?
Water Stream's gaze lingered on his face, a mixture of uncertainty and a faint, unreadable light.
The kind of person… She'd never given the question much thought. These past years had been consumed by her efforts to ensure the survival of her Blood Rose sisters in the borderlands, building alliances with weaker tribes while making enemies of the powerful.
Who could even say if they'd still be alive tomorrow? Such a question seemed a luxury.
She gave a wry smile, lowering her head.
"But right now," Kent said, "there's something even more important to me."
"What is it?" she asked, lifting her gaze again.
"Will you give me your trust, even if it's only a sliver, as small as a fingernail?"
The distance between them was now barely twenty centimeters.
Sweat beaded on Kent's forehead.
He could hear both of their heartbeats clearly now, though his seemed louder and faster.
Water Stream remained motionless, her lake-blue eyes locking onto his, seemingly drowning him in their depth. This might have been the first time she allowed herself to openly meet a man's gaze like this. It felt strange. She couldn't recall ever doing so before.
Much less with a young man.
"It seems this isn't your first time," she said softly, her lips barely moving.
"Huh?" Kent's face turned red in an instant.
Why was she bringing this up now? And was this really the time to discuss such things?
Her innocent eyes looked at him again, appearing genuinely puzzled by his embarrassed reaction.
"You've convinced people like this before, haven't you?" Water Stream asked, apparently explaining her earlier remark.
Letting out a long breath of relief, Kent felt a twinge of inexplicable disappointment.
He gave an awkward chuckle and said, "That… doesn't seem all that important."
"It looks like you've convinced me," Water Stream said, lowering her gaze.
The midday sunlight streaming through the window illuminated one side of her face. Kent's heart skipped a beat, and the fire within him flared uncontrollably, as if it would burst forth from his chest.
He forced himself to maintain a calm facade until he noticed the blush spreading across her face. Yet her body trembled slightly as she shrank back. She reminded him of a young beast that had narrowly escaped a predator, instinctively avoiding even the gentlest kindness.
"Trust…" Her lake-blue eyes filled with tears as she whispered, her voice trembling and uncertain. "I can trust you, but can you promise to protect them for the rest of their lives?"
She said "protect them," not "protect me."
Kent's heart ached. She was like a lone mother wolf shielding her pack with her frail body from every external threat. But someday, she would break under the weight.
"Unless I die," Kent said, nodding firmly. "I'll earn your full trust, protect them, and…"
"And protect you," his voice quivered slightly.
He didn't need to say anything more. He didn't need to elaborate further.
Water Stream's gaze told him she understood the words he didn't say.
To live. To find warmth. To dream of hope.
He leaned in closer until only a fist's width separated them.
The air grew thick with an unspoken tension, blurring the edges of reality. Even breathing felt heavier.
Kent moved slightly closer, his cheek brushing hers. Perhaps he would be the first man to give her this sense of security.
He intended to be the last.
Water Stream's chest rose and fell gently. Her breath warmed his cheek, carrying a faint, delicate fragrance that left him dazed. Their heartbeats echoed in unison.
Like spring breezes stirring strings, raindrops rippling across a lake, or soft feathers brushing bare skin.
A slender hand pressed against his chest.
He stopped moving forward.
"Go," he said softly. "Bring your sisters back."
Her other hand gently covered his mouth before her lips brushed lightly against it.
"Wait for us to return," she said, her face a deep shade of red, her breath trembling.
She turned and headed for the window, leaping gracefully through it.
And then, she was gone.