Find the One Who Abandoned Me - Chapter 52

His voice, once always cracked and unpleasant from silence, had improved. Part of that was thanks to his fiancée—who not only shared her thoughts but also listened to his. He had never imagined that, in such a short time, he would be able to speak so normally again.

“I’ll be the one attending official functions for a while. It would be best if you kept out of Father’s sight for the time being.”

“You—!”

“I’m not trying to take your place, Brother.”

Despite Erben’s sharp glare, Isaac no longer bowed his head. There was light in those snowy-white eyes now—once clouded like dusty glass, now clear like a polished porcelain plate.

“I can do it. And I will. I know how you held the family together when Father was absent. I won’t get ahead of myself. But from now on…”

He paused, hesitating for a moment, unsure if he had the right to say what was on his mind. Then he thought of her—the girl who had probably walked lightly back to his room by now. Calliope, who offered him affection for no clear reason. To stand beside her, he could no longer be a creature with fins.

“You will need to treat me with respect—as a fellow human being.”

It was one small step toward land.

As soon as Calliope entered Isaac’s room, she felt vaguely dissatisfied. Though she had personally chosen the furniture and picked out the curtains, the space still felt lacking when she thought of him. She had once believed the room was complete when the final piece—the bed—was delivered. But now, seeing it again, she noticed things that needed improving.

She lifted the bed sheets, wondering whether a proper servant had been assigned to him. As expected, Isaac still seemed more comfortable living alone—parts of the room clearly hadn’t been touched by any servant’s hand.

As her eyes moved over his desk, the bed he slept in, and the sofa he might’ve sat on, Calliope thought to herself:

I’m still preparing for the day you betray me.

“Even if the past has changed… I can’t let my guard down.”

She murmured this to herself like a tune. Isaac had never treated her poorly to begin with. He had always stood by her side with quiet warmth—until the day he suddenly turned his back on her.

She could still hear his voice in her ears—saying he loved the saint. Isaac… now that time has rewound, you can’t escape me. You must not. I gave my life because I hated the world that forgot you.

Calliope set aside those thoughts and sat gently on his bed. The new room didn’t yet carry his scent. That made her feel a little lonely.

“You should’ve at least had some tea brought in.”

Click. The door opened softly. It was Isaac, who entered and, seeing the empty table, spoke.

“I thought you might’ve asked for something.”

“I told them not to. Seeing your room was more important to me.”

“Didn’t you decorate it yourself, Lady Calliope?”

“Even so, the feeling of a room changes depending on the person living in it.”

Isaac glanced around, as if a bit embarrassed by the comment. He looked at her sitting on the bed, hesitated, then walked toward the sofa—but she called out to him.

“Come sit next to me.”

“……”

“It’s not like I asked you to lie down with me. Don’t look so serious.”

Calliope laughed, and Isaac, unable to resist her, sat next to her with a bit of space between them. Naturally, she scooted closer until she was right beside him.

“Did you say everything you needed to?”

“Yes.”

“How do you feel?”

“…I’m not sure.”

“That’s normal. Don’t worry.”

Just like in the drawing room, Calliope rested her head on his shoulder. She felt the tension in his arm as he instinctively flexed it.

She quietly steadied her breathing, and Isaac exhaled slowly. He feared that any movement might make her lift her head. Silence stretched between them—but he realized he wasn’t uncomfortable. That realization felt both strange and overwhelming.

After a moment, Isaac spoke, cautiously.

“Earlier… there’s something my brother said that I want to ask about.”

“What is it?”

“You seemed… close to Lord Glayderth.”

“Ah.”

Calliope let out a quiet laugh, still leaning on his shoulder.

“We’ve seen each other a few times because we had business to discuss. That’s all.”

“…I don’t like that he knows things about you that I don’t.”

Calliope looked up at him. The flicker in his snowy eyes—that was jealousy. Inappropriate as it might’ve been, she couldn’t help but smile.

My Isaac. The way he was now—revealing sides of himself he never showed before—was impossibly endearing to her.

“Isaac.”

“…Yes?”

“There are things he knows that you don’t—but you’ll learn them soon enough. What matters is this: there are parts of me that only you will ever know. Because…”

She gently tugged on his arm.

“…you’re my fiancé.”

He let himself be pulled toward her. His face showed surprise, and the tips of his pale ears turned red in an instant. She took in every bit of his expression, not missing a single detail, and then pressed her lips lightly to his.

It was a soft kiss. No sound. No drama. Just a brief, almost childlike touch.

And yet, as soon as their lips met, Isaac froze like a fish suddenly thrust onto dry land—his breath halted, and his body shivered at the contact.

Calliope cupped his cheek with one hand and then pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. Even from that fleeting kiss, his eyes were tinged red at the corners.

“…Because I’m your fiancée.”

“The only one—and the only one there ever will be.”

Isaac recalled the feeling of her lips. It had been as light as a bird alighting and then taking flight. But even so, he found himself wishing he could feel it again. Still, he didn’t dare kiss her back. Instead, he bit the inside of his cheek.

“…I will live for you—and only you.”

Though it was a vow that might’ve sounded obsessive or intense, Calliope smiled. She opened her arms and wrapped them around his neck.

Feeling her warmth—so close to his own—Isaac made up his mind. Even if she held someone else in her heart, he would live for her alone.

It was early afternoon. The sun, now high in the sky just past midday, beat down hot enough to sting the skin. Calliope wiped away the sweat from her brow. She had just completed around a thousand repetitions of the left-right slashing movement under Bellona’s instruction. After realizing Calliope had endurance but lacked true foundational skill, Bellona had focused the entire lesson on repetitive basics.

“Looks like Dora really did only teach you the absolute basics.”

Calliope caught her breath slowly before answering.

“I didn’t know there were so many basic moves.”

Dora had taught her three fundamental movements—slashing, swinging, and blocking. Bellona, in contrast, had added eight more: thrusting, left and right slashes, overhead cuts, and others that built on those fundamentals.

“Well, Dora only taught you what you’d need for swinging an axe. That girl’s main weapon isn’t the sword, after all.”

“I figured as much.”

Calliope rolled her sore shoulders, feeling the dull ache in her forearms. Bellona studied her posture for a moment, then unfolded her arms and stepped closer.

“I think it’s time we try sparring.”

“Already?”

Bellona nodded. It might’ve seemed a bit early under normal circumstances, but it was clear that Dora had trained her primarily through mock combat. Now that her basic form had improved, sparring wouldn’t be as difficult as before.

“It’ll be a basic match, of course.”

“Will you be my opponent?”

Bellona shook her head and glanced at the shadow stretching along the ground.

“Of course not. That’s it for today’s lesson.”

“Oh, is it that late already?”

Calliope checked the pocket watch Susan brought over. Sure enough, the two-hour lesson had flown by.

“To think the Lady who once struggled through two-hour classes has come this far. It makes me proud.”

Now that the lesson was over, Bellona’s tone returned to that of someone addressing a noblewoman. Calliope let out a short laugh and continued wiping the sweat from her brow.

“You say that, but you’ve been anything but gentle with me. You don’t even help me up when I collapse from exhaustion.”

“That’s more than fair treatment. Most instructors would’ve kicked you onto your feet.”

Calliope grimaced.

“That sounds… unpleasant.”

“I agree. But it’s the reality. Sword masters can’t be too harsh with noble students, but that’s how they train commoner knights—or when high-ranking knights train their subordinates.”

“Sounds pretty rough.”

“I used to think only rough mercenaries used such methods… then I saw the noble knights doing it too, and let me tell you, I was shocked.”

Her tone was biting, almost sarcastic, and Calliope couldn’t help but laugh at the unexpected edge. Despite Bellona’s noble birth, Calliope found herself amused by her unfiltered honesty.

“If you have some time to spare, would you like to stay for tea?”

“I’d love to, but unfortunately I have other engagements.”

With a short, respectful bow, Bellona left the marquess’s estate.

Calliope headed back to her room with Susan. Her muscles ached from the overuse, but the discomfort came with a satisfying sense of exertion. It was one of the few things in life where results came slowly but visibly. Bellona’s voice echoed in her memory— “Muscle never betrays.” That brought a brief smile to her lips.

“Sparring, huh… I wonder if she’s going to bring in a knight-in-training for that?”

Susan asked, trying to match Calliope’s pace.

“Hm, wouldn’t that be a bit too much pressure for them? If they injured the Marquess’s daughter, it could turn into a real problem.”

“You’re right. That would be tricky.”

Injuries during sword training weren’t unusual, and no one would hold them accountable. But Calliope’s status as a noblewoman made the situation delicate. Of course, she didn’t see it as a big deal.

“I’m sure she’ll find someone suitable.”

“I suppose she will.”

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