The festival air was thick with the warmth of firelight, laughter, and the scent of roasted meats and spiced sweets.
Bright ribbons danced on poles, streamers crisscrossed above the main street, and musicians played cheerful folk tunes that made even the stiffest nobles tap their feet.
Kyle walked among the villagers, flanked by Bruce and Melissa, the three of them attracting curious eyes and cheerful greetings wherever they went.
"Welcome back, young lord! It wouldn’t be a festival without you!"
A baker shouted, handing Kyle a warm tart glazed with honey.
Kyle accepted it with a polite smile, giving his thanks. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this energy—this sense of belonging.
Bruce was already striding toward the archery range, where several villagers were attempting to hit a straw target for prizes.
He asked with a grin.
The villagers, mostly young men, nodded, smirking.
"Be our guest, Sir Bruce. But don’t be sad when you miss."
Bruce laughed and took the bow, firing three arrows in rapid succession. Each one struck dead center, the last splitting the first. The crowd erupted in disbelief.
"Hey! Are you a knight or a show-off?!"
"That last one didn’t even look!"
Bruce turned and gave a theatrical bow, accepting the large stuffed chicken toy handed to him as a prize.
"A knight can be both."
He quipped, handing the toy to a nearby child who looked up at him with wide, awed eyes.
Melissa, meanwhile, had wandered toward a ring toss game.
She studied the poles, calculating angles and distance with the eyes of someone who’d aimed throwing knives at moving targets. One toss, two, three—each ring landed perfectly.
The vendor’s jaw dropped.
"You... Are you all trained assassins or something?!"
Melissa said innocently, though her smirk gave her away.
She accepted a pair of beautifully crafted bracelets as a prize and slipped one onto her wrist, then handed the other to a little girl watching from behind her mother’s skirt.
Kyle observed it all with an amused tilt of his head, arms crossed as he leaned against a post near the lantern stand.
Despite the protests and good-natured complaints from villagers, none of them were truly upset. If anything, they were proud their guests could be part of their festival—and dominate it so thoroughly.
As the three continued through the festival, they passed dance circles, food stalls, and fortune-telling booths.
At one point, Kyle even allowed himself to be dragged into a dance by a group of elderly village women.
"Come now, young lord! You can’t just stand there looking pretty!"
Melissa laughed so hard she had to clutch Bruce’s arm for support.
Kyle muttered under his breath, but he danced anyway, letting the rhythm take over.
It was easy to forget the battles. The gods. The burden of leadership.
That peace, however, was briefly disturbed when a shout rang through the square.
Kyle’s body tensed out of habit, but before he or the others could react, a group of villagers had already leapt into action.
Two teenagers who had tried to make off with a satchel of coins were caught and pinned to the ground by a group of middle-aged women.
"You picked the wrong day, boys!"
Another man retrieved the stolen pouch and returned it to its rightful owner.
Bruce watched, impressed.
"I guess they don’t need us anymore."
"They’re protecting their home."
"They’ve grown stronger."
Kyle murmured, pride swelling in his chest.
As the commotion settled and the festivities resumed, Kyle felt something deep within him settle as well. The village was fine. His people were fine.
And for once, he didn’t need to carry everything.
Later that night, dinner was served in the village hall. Tables overflowed with roast boar, fresh bread, baked vegetables, and steaming pots of stew.
Kyle sat with Bruce and Melissa, listening quietly as the villagers exchanged stories and laughter.
When the food was gone and the fires began to die down, Kyle stood and excused himself. Melissa followed silently, walking just behind him as he made his way to the guest house.
Inside, the house was quiet and warm, a gentle fire crackling in the hearth. Kyle removed his coat and sat on the edge of the bed, staring into the flames.
Melissa stood in the doorway for a moment before finally entering.
"I just wanted to say... thank you."
"For everything. For trusting me. For letting me stay by your side all this time."
Kyle studied her for a moment.
"Melissa...You’ve been with me through everything. You’ve fought beside me, risked your life, followed every order without question. Do you... want anything for all your loyalty?"
He said, his voice gentle.
"I mean it. If there’s something you want, anything I can give you—say it.
For a moment, her heart jumped into her throat. Her mouth opened slightly, but the words didn’t come.
"...I don’t need anything. You’ve already given me everything I need."
Kyle gave her a nod, then stood and walked to the window, looking out at the peaceful village.
"Alright. Then I’ll respect that."
Melissa turned away, her hand clenching around her skirt. Her eyes burned, but she forced a smile as she stepped toward the door.
"Goodnight, Melissa."
She walked outside, the night air cool against her cheeks. Once she was alone, her shoulders slumped, and she let out a quiet sigh.
’Just one kiss. I just wanted one kiss. But... it’s not something I can ask for yet.’
And with that thought tucked deep into her heart, she returned to her room, still loyal, still devoted—but just a little more heartbroken than before.
Melissa walked slowly through the quiet village, her steps light on the cobbled paths.
The festival had ended, the music had faded, and the lanterns had burned low, leaving behind only warm embers of memory.
Children were tucked into bed, laughter now replaced by the occasional crackle of wood and the night insects singing their soft song.
She reached the well at the center of the village and sat on its stone edge, staring up at the stars.
Her thoughts wandered to everything she had endured since meeting Kyle—how far they had come, how many lives they had touched and saved.
And yet... she still hadn’t managed to bridge that final gap between them.
She knew Kyle cared, deeply even—but not once had he crossed the line between affection and love. Not yet.
A breeze passed, ruffling her hair, and she smiled faintly.
"I’ll wait. No matter how long it takes."
She murmured to herself.
Back in his room, Kyle stood at his window, staring at the same stars. Though his face was calm, his thoughts weren’t. He hadn’t missed Melissa’s hesitation.
He could guess what she truly wanted—but he also knew that giving her what she wanted at the moment.
At least, not until the grand duchess and everyone else had settled down. And especially not when there was a chance Kyle won’t be able to come back after the final battle.
He wanted Melissa to be free to be able to choose in case he was not here.