“Damia.”

Akkard knelt down on one of his knee on the still-wet dirt floor of the garden. And he presented his sincerity without any packaging or lie mixed in.

“I, indeed, was really, very wrong. Please… … Accept it.”

His fingertips trembled as he held out the bouquet of hydrangeas. It was the first time he had knelt in front of someone who was not of the royal family.

“Please.”

Could this be how a believer feels to offer flowers directly to a goddess he had served all his life? The sound of his own heart was beating so loudly in his ears that he couldn’t hear anything else.

In a world filled with only one person, a hand of salvation had finally been extended.

“I’ll take the flowers.”

Damia holding the bouquet, responded briefly. And asked Akkard, who was still on his knees.

“Is this all you want?”

In haste, Akkard nodded. He was prepared to be rejected, so this was more than enough.

“Then I will go.”

After formally nodding her head, Damia left. There were no words of thanks or suggesting to go back together, even out of courtesy.

But in order to see another glimpse of her cold back, Akkard lengthened his neck. Finally, and only after Damia had disappeared over the dim garden, did he let out a sad sigh.

“Ha… … .”

After wiping his dry face, he smiled at himself. It was sad that Damia still hated him, but nevertheless, he was thrilled that she had received the flowers.

Contrary to her impeccably ice queen appearance, Damia was a woman with a soft spot. Thanks to that, Akkard was able to prolonge and drag on his once-in-a-lifetime relationship.

He had never been more grateful for Damia’s ‘softness’ than now. He massaged his brows which had been furrowed for the past few days, and gently closed his eyes.

As his tensions and fears dissipated, intense mental fatigue came rushing in. It was because he had crossed fierce waves of emotions over a short moment.

Akkard, who is experiencing his first love, suddenly became curious. He wondered if others also struggled in the flames of such terrifying joys and sorrows every time.

‘If I chase after her now, will I be able to see her back from afar?’

He thought he was insane, but his legs were already moving.

In fact, in order to return to his mansion, he shouldn’t have gone in this direction. But his mind was already set, and his determined heart gave him fifty thousand excuses while he was on his way.

‘Yes, since I’m at the royal palace anyway, I’ll check on the knights… … I also have to check the status of the guards of the Crown Prince’s palace.’

While he was at it, he would catch a glimpse of her. Akkard, having finished his elaborate rationalization, continued to step forward. Along the way, Damia disappeared.

Because the rain this morning moistened the soil, he found her footprints on the soft floor.

Akkard, who had been walking in her footsteps, stepped aside for some reason. And pressing down his heels, he walked, planting his own footmarks next to her tiny impressions.

As if the two were walking side by side.

‘What a stupid thing to do, honestly.’

Akkard couldn’t help but smile self-disparagingly. He looked back and saw a peaceful scene of the dusk falling and twilight descending over two pairs of footprints, side by side.

Akkard tried to move on before the sun had set entirely. But just then– something white shone from the flower bed on the other side, beyond the dimmed path.

“… … .”

He could have just ignored it, but a vague but irresistible sense of foreboding pulled him. Somehow, he felt he had to check it with his own eyes.

Akkard approached a corner of the flower bed. And bent over, he confirmed its identity.

It was a bouquet of hydrangeas that he gave to Damia. Blossoms, which had been white and beautiful just moments ago, had been discarded and thrown away full of soil and dirt.

Just like the handkerchief of that day.