Chapter 139

Four years of countryside life were packed up in just two days.

Laila had never been determined to stay rural forever. She simply hadn’t wanted to do anything. She’d chosen the countryside because it was a place where no one would bother her.

“Why are you acting so sentimental? It’s not like we can’t come back.”
“Still…”
“Don’t cling to it.”

They could always return. Stay a few days, even weeks, if they wanted. The house was still Laila’s, and as long as they had the key, the door would open.

Florence sniffled as she lingered. “I’m just glad someone will take care of the house.”

Laila looked at her for a moment.

“How someone that soft survived… amazes me.”

Florence used to be nervous and prickly, like a small wild animal with its fur bristled, baring tiny teeth at a world she thought would devour her. To Laila, those snarls sounded more like pitiful whimpers.

She could almost understand why Linus had looked down on her. What could such a trembling creature possibly do?

But Florence had struck Linus down. And she had killed Hyunji.

It had taken her a long time to return to herself, but she never collapsed entirely. That persistence was also a kind of talent.

And in their quiet years, Florence had shown a side even she probably hadn’t known—once she opened her heart, she never doubted. She was clumsy with her hands. She gave her affection too easily. Even when herbs she planted in the yard died, she mourned them for two whole days.

If her mother had lived to raise her with love, Florence would have been the most spoiled youngest child imaginable. She’d have clung to her family with teary eyes every time she didn’t get her way, begging until someone gave in.

Now she was weeping over a pillow she’d sewn at a village festival, clutching it tight. She even took Laila’s poorly made one as a matching set. Out of all the things she could have chosen to pack, she’d brought that.

Laila almost laughed. She still remembered the girl who once wore tailored gowns worth whole houses, dripping in jewels, smiling in Linus’s arms. Now that same girl sniffled in a rough, faded skirt like a country maiden.

The village wasn’t safe just because it seemed peaceful. With two women alone, danger had always lurked. But Florence never knew. Laila had “talked things out” with those neighbors—whether with words or fists—until only the kind ones remained.

“If you can communicate—whether with words or with fists—you’re not all bad.”

That was how Laila saw it.

“Pack your valuables.”
“I don’t have any.”
“Fair enough.”

Laila shrugged and lifted a bag. Nelson came from the kitchen.
“I’ll carry that, my lady.”
“Fine, then.”
“You could at least pretend to refuse…”

She gave him a look that said why bother, and he grumbled.
“At last I get to see the inside. You never let me in before.”
“Don’t chatter.”
Florence blinked. “You were meeting secretly?”
“That sounds weird.”
“Well, you could’ve let him in. He’s no stranger.”
“Still an outsider man. Doesn’t look good.”
“What does that matter? Just call him family.”

Laila shook her head. This house had been Florence’s safe space. Letting in anyone who might cause unease—even someone familiar—would’ve ruined it. But she didn’t explain. Instead, she turned.
“Out. Now.”
“Laila?”
“I’m locking the door.”

The sunlit windows, the tiny table where two people barely fit, the cluttered cupboard stuffed with odds and ends, the sagging sofa, the clumsily sewn quilt—all stayed behind.

They could return, but Laila hoped they never would.

The village was quiet, far from Redamas. Nobles were like gods here—distant. That also meant the local lord was decent. Taxes were fair, order was kept, no one hated him, and no one praised him either. Just peace. Alex’s parents were model nobles.

“I can’t live like this forever.”

Florence had decided to move back to Redamas, and invited Laila too. But Laila refused without a second thought.
“You want me to freeload in your newlywed house?”
“Who’s getting married?”
“That man acts like your husband already.”
“I’m not marrying him. What are you talking about?”
“Then why move?”
“I… just want to live nearby.”
“So you’ll marry soon enough.”
“No. He hasn’t proposed.”

Enoch was probably restraining himself for Florence’s sake. Laila could almost picture his restless face.

“What will you do in Redamas?”
“Keith says it’s time I start repaying my debt.”

Laila blinked.
“…Debt?”
“For saving my life.”

Enoch had said he wouldn’t demand repayment. But Keith had sworn he would.

Florence smiled brightly.
“Now no one can call me useless anymore.”

How could anyone call useless the woman contracted with the great fire spirit, three high-ranking spirits, and who could wield sixth-class magic?

Laila decided she had no reason to go with her. They had needed each other for four years because they both needed somewhere to rest without guilt. But that didn’t mean their futures had to match.

Florence didn’t beg her to stay. She had begged once already—those four years together.

Florence wiped her tears, forcing a smile.
“When you come to Redamas, you’d better visit.”
“….”
“You’ll know where I am, so don’t make excuses. Come. Every season, send me word. And if you want something tasty, tell me—I’ll remember.”
“….”
“You’re saying goodbye forever?”

Laila laughed softly.
“Why do you sound like we were married? This isn’t a divorce. You’re not losing a husband. You dropped that man without blinking.”
“…He wasn’t my husband…” Florence muttered, pouting.

They both laughed.

Florence touched Laila’s fingertips. Laila let her squeeze, and brushed Florence’s brow gently.

Florence would never have survived without Laila.

But Laila knew—it was the same for her.

She had wanted to die once. She hadn’t cared about anything.

Now, she did.

“Come see me, anytime.”

Because now, there was someone she cared about.