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Chapter : 22
New Year’s Festival (1)
The next day, Terencio and Alferil met again at the dark entrance hall of Sanctcaleum.
Each step she took in black shoes exposed a flash of pale ankle, slim and delicate. A blue brooch—just the shade of her eyes—glimmered on her dress.
It was the first time since coming to Sanctcaleum that she had dressed up like this. Feeling strangely self-conscious, Alferil twisted a loose lock of hair around her finger while stealing glances at the atmosphere. Terencio, waiting at the bottom of the stairs, came into view.
“Did you wait long?”
At her voice, smooth as silk rolling across marble, Terencio automatically straightened his lips. He shook his head slowly but firmly, then stepped forward and held out a hand—as though inviting her to take his arm.
His usual stray hairs were nowhere to be seen; his neatly combed hair made his sharp features stand out. The well-cut suit clung perfectly to his tall, slender frame.
He looked like something painted on canvas. And yet, something about him felt slightly off, and Alferil’s eyes darted uncertainly. Hesitating instead of taking his hand right away, she finally asked:
“Young master… why won’t you look at me?”
A ticklish silence passed. Normally, Alferil would have given a faint laugh, but instead she gazed up at him anxiously.
“Why do you think?”
Terencio’s lips slanted into a half-smile, as though asking if she was serious. When she still wouldn’t move, he took her hand himself, arranging it atop his, and only then met her gaze. His voice resonated deeply.
“You are beautiful, Alfe.”
A few seconds later, Alferil understood what he meant. She fumbled, trying not to blush.
“Oh—yes. The dress is beautiful. Thank you again for it.”
Still holding her hand, Terencio did not lead her forward right away. He simply looked down at her for a long moment. Her small face was tinged with a myriad of emotions—worry not yet shaken off.
She had known this moment would come, yet now that it had, she was nervous. Going out alone with the young master, walking in an expensive gown—they were all daunting. As though sensing her unease, he narrowed his brow and spoke low.
“I know you’re uncomfortable going out with me.”
“That’s not true!”
Startled, Alferil quickly denied it. Terencio gave a faint smile and continued.
“They say your fortune for the coming year is decided by how happy you are on the very last day of the old one.”
It was something she had never heard before. Did nobles share such sayings to close the year? Feeling awkward, she nodded and looked up.
“So today, I intend to give you more happiness than everything you’ve gathered in your whole life.”
Only then did she see it clearly—a smile freer than anything else this world could offer.
Alferil stared into his moss-green eyes and finally clasped his hand properly, smiling back. The color reminded her of dew resting on fresh leaves. With that warmth, she felt she could forget every worry—just for tonight.
“Young master, wait.”
Their smooth stride suddenly halted. The front gate of Sanctcaleum was slightly ajar. Curious, Alferil approached, Terencio following behind.
A single envelope, damp with night dew, stuck between the door. While Alferil stared blankly at it, Terencio opened the heavy door and placed the letter in her hands. She murmured as she looked down at the white envelope.
“Looks like Sir Langhe came by.”
“Oh? He strolls in and out of other people’s homes without greeting them now?”
“Why would he leave without saying hello?”
Alferil fiddled with the envelope. Before she could sink deeper into thought, Terencio asked,
“So?”
“…Yes?”
“Is that more important than me right now?”
His tone was casual, yet faintly impatient. The instant she lifted her gaze from the letter to him, a spark tingled where their hands met. Strange—but not unwelcome.
“No.”
She answered without hesitation. Letting go of her earlier curiosity, Alferil smiled brighter than before and continued walking at his side.
Mist still blanketed the path on the final night of the year. Alferil glanced back once at the shrinking silhouette of Sanctcaleum. Likely Pascal’s reply, she thought. She was almost sure she could see the letter behind the closed door—even though she couldn’t possibly.
Terencio tightened his grip, refusing to allow even that brief glance away, and Alferil laughed and turned forward again. He slowed his steps to match her shoe-limited stride.
Even in the carriage—and the taciturn coachman who must have been warned in advance—they continued holding hands.
Every time the wheels jolted over a bump, Terencio tightened his grasp to steady her, and thanks to that, Alferil didn’t hit her head and could safely peer out the window.
Colorful festival garlands decorated churches of brick, ordinary houses, and shabby dwellings alike. As scenery flickered past, laughter and rising celebration spilled through the walls of the carriage.
The pair of horses ran on until dusk-blue turned to deep night. At last the carriage entered a narrow alley and began to slow, yet no other carriages were in sight.
Had she misunderstood? She had been too focused on the prospect of going out with him to think about where they were actually headed. Noticing her puzzled gaze, Terencio spoke awkwardly.
“In hindsight, I fear I may have raised your expectations too high without a proper plan.”
“How unfortunate. I never forgot the happiness you promised me for the new year.”
His uncharacteristically subdued voice amused her. Truly, who should be walking on eggshells right now? The roles seemed reversed.
Sighing, he muttered into the cold air,
“Forgive me, but that wasn’t humility. It’s the truth. I only hope you won’t be too disappointed.”
On New Year’s Eve in Tribeelar, great houses—from the palace at Morgenstein and down—hosted grand balls. Just last year, Alferil had been forced onto the ducal ballroom stage.
Among glittering nobles, Alferil had been a jagged shard of glass—unable to blend in, unable to escape. No matter where they went tonight, she knew it would be far better so long as she held Terencio’s hand.
Uneasy memories made her shrink slightly as she stepped down from the carriage.
“Where are we?”
“The night streets of Pavlova. First, dinner.”
Alferil surveyed the surroundings. People walked shockingly close to one another. Here and there, couples clung indecently close, whispering sweet nothings.
“Don’t be surprised—it’s famous as a rendezvous spot where noble youths disguise themselves as commoners to meet.”
When Terencio leaned close and murmured in her ear—just like a passing stranger had done—Alferil startled. Then she swallowed a daring thought she normally would never even imagine:
Do they think we’re one of those couples?
Flustered, she quickly turned her gaze away. Terencio, strangely tense, added at once,
“Just in case—don’t misunderstand.”
“Misunderstand what?”
“Damn it, I only know this place by chance. And I always came alone.”
Locking eyes, they both laughed faintly—knowing their thoughts had run oddly parallel. He scratched his neatly styled hair as though embarrassed.
Soon, different sights caught her attention. A father with a five-year-old daughter perched on his shoulders passed by. People wore rings and bracelets said to bring luck for the year ahead.
To Alferil—who remembered stiff, formal balls—the laughter and string music felt unreal. Just as they escaped a cramped intersection and approached what seemed like the festival’s heart, Terencio stopped again.
“This way.”
Just left of the alley’s exit was a door sunk into a wall where no shop ought to be. He pushed the handle of old birch wood, and a wave of heat and excitement washed over them.
Inside was a surprisingly spacious tavern for such a narrow alley.
Beer mugs clinked in a lively chorus. With practiced ease, Terencio took Alferil’s coat as she stood frozen.
She had forgotten she should have taken his coat first, and was just about to protest—
A middle-aged proprietress crossing the hall spotted them and stopped dead. Alferil thought she imagined it, but the woman beamed and hurried toward them.
“Teo! You damn brat, how long has it been!”
“It’s been a while, Mrs. Bandit.”
It was the first time Alferil had heard such smooth polite speech from him, and she stared up at him in surprise.
Perhaps mistaking her shock for discomfort with the unfamiliar place, Terencio slipped an arm lightly around her shoulders, drawing her closer.
Both of them instantly regretted it.
“Hey! Hey! Listen up, everyone! Teo’s finally brought his lover here—and on New Year’s Eve!”
