“Did the doctor tell you? Is that why you tried to take off my clothes?” Siegren asked.

“Yes,” I said, nodding my head.

Siegren ran his fingers through his hair. “Is that why you’re crying? I told you to get out when I was changing my bandages. But you had to take a look and start crying. You’re really—”

Then I reached out and pulled him into a tight hug.

He froze. With his soft black hair rustling against my cheek, I could smell the whiff of antiseptic on his skin and felt sorrier than ever.

It was my fault he had been suffering for so long. This was all because I had carelessly written that he had a difficult childhood, never putting much thought into what that truly meant for my character. Nor had I ever imagined that I’d witness his pain with my own eyes.

But now I could see. This was real. He was real. The fact that one sentence had secured someone to this miserable fate frightened me, just as knowing Fiona’s fate had frightened me before.

“What happened?” I asked, voice barely audible.

“It’s nothing. Mercenaries are violent people, and I just happened to be their target because I’m young and weak,” he said gruffly, shrugging himself out of my grasp.

I let him go but then looked up into his eyes. “Siegren, don’t say that this is nothing.”

“Are you pitying me...?” he asked.

I shook my head slowly. No, this wasn’t pity. This was guilt. Until now, I hadn’t given much thought to Siegren at all. Nor had I considered the horrors he would continue to suffer by fighting this war.

His arrival at the estate had always seemed like such a faraway event, and I had been telling myself that nothing really mattered until the main storyline began. Maybe that was an excuse. Maybe I was trying to avoid thinking about Siegren on purpose. I had wanted to ignore the realities of the world that I lived in. But Siegren’s wounds made me realize the cruelty of this world.

A cruelty that existed because of me.

Moreover, Siegren was so young. This was a time in his life when he should have been loved and protected by the adults around him. I was definitely responsible for the violence and misery that this boy had experienced. Yet, I had been so selfish, complaining about how I couldn’t befriend him easily.

I felt ashamed.

I decided that, going forward, I was going to do my very best for Siegren. Even if he hated me, I planned to watch over him forever. But even then, it would not be enough to fully atone for the scars I had unwittingly placed on his heart.

“I’m so sorry.”

Siegren laughed hollowly. “Are you apologizing for stripping me against my will?”

“No, it’s just...” I said, before tears began streaming down my face again.

Siegren clicked his tongue but wiped my tears with his sleeves. “Don’t cry. What are you crying for when it’s got nothing to do with you?”

Despite the harsh tone of his voice, his hands were gentle as they wiped away my tears. He was a kind child indeed.

“Siegren.”

“What now?”

I reached out and cupped his cheeks carefully. The boy’s gray-blue eyes trembled at the sudden contact.

“I will never hurt you,” I whispered as if casting a spell.

Siegren’s heart probably wouldn’t recover until the female lead showed up. But until then, I at least wanted to keep him safe. I wished he would be able to trust me.

“So let’s be friends?” I asked with a sheepish smile.

Siegren widened his eyes and averted his gaze. “First, you were crying. Now you’re smiling... You’re really fickle, aren’t you?”

But he didn’t look too annoyed, so my heart began to hope.

Yes, I was going to become his good friend.

* * *

After this incident, I began growing closer to Siegren—kind of.

At the very least, he did not yell and bat my hands away when I approached him. So this was definitely an improvement. To be fair, it was not strange that the boy would not like physical contact. He had experienced so much violence at the hands of other people. Come to think of it, perhaps he had pushed me away because he had not wanted me to notice his scars.

“I told you to stop moving. You might mess up your wounds!” I chided, slapping Siegren lightly on his shoulder.

“It’s fine. It’s nearly healed anyway.”

“No. Not until it heals completely. Listen to your elder.”

Siegren looked at me incredulously. “I’ve been meaning to ask you...”

“Yes?” I said.

“You keep saying you’re older than me, but just how old are you?”

I swallowed. Actually, in this body, I was one year younger than he was. “Thirteen...” I said quietly.

To my surprise, Siegren did not get angry. Rather, he seemed as if he had expected as much. “You’re older than I thought. I thought you’d be about ten or so.”

“What?!”

Abel often mentioned how tiny I was, but was I really so small that I appeared to be ten? Well, I supposed my growth had been a bit stunted from spending most of my childhood locked up in an attic without food.

“Anyway, I’m older than you are,” said Siegren.

“I’m sure I’m older than you mentally.”

Siegren scoffed. “You wish. For all that Duke Heylon is feeding you, you’re not growing at all.”

“I know...”

Physically, I wasn’t fit at all. Although my magic was powerful, I wasn’t able to use it for a long period of time. Simply put, I was good at sprinting short distances but horrible at running marathons. This small body was severely lacking in stamina.

“I’m still growing, so it’s fine,” I said.

I think I had fattened up a little bit since I had been able to eat three meals a day since arriving at Heylon Castle. Plus I was only thirteen years old, so I had more than enough time to grow.

Siegren laughed.

“All right, do your best,” he said.

I looked up at his face. Having recovered from his injuries and calmed down his heart, Siegren seemed to be shining these days. Sometimes it hurt to look at him. Even though he was my character, and I already knew how he would turn out, I was still looking forward to how handsome he would become as he grew up. It made me feel proud for no reason. Use that face to good use when you meet the female protagonist, buddy.

“Do I have something on my face?” he asked.

“Huh? No,” I replied.

“Then why are you staring at me like that?”

“Because you’re handsome. Actually, you’re too handsome. You must be loyal to your lover when you grow up, okay?”

I won’t let you break my darling female protagonist’s heart.

Siegren fell silent for a moment. “It always dawns on me how you’re... No. Forget it.”

“What?” I asked.

Siegren smiled teasingly and ruffled my hair. “You claim to be mentally older than me, but I don’t think you know much about people yet. You’re too trusting of everyone.”

Come on. That’s not fair.

“That’s not true. I’m—” I protested when the door swung open.

Siegren immediately pulled his hand away.

“Lady Fiona!” cried Jeron as he ran into the room. “A large group of demonic beasts are approaching the second rampart. Everyone who can fight must go.”

“Understood. I’ll be there right away,” I said.

So the demonic beasts had finally returned to the second rampart, and the attack was severe enough for Jeron to risk Abel’s anger and ask me for help.

Well, it was time to get to work. I stood up quickly.

“What is he talking about? Why would you go there?” demanded Siegren, grabbing my wrist.

Come to think of it, I had never gotten around to telling him the reason I was here.

“I work here as a mage,” I explained. “My main job is to guard the second rampart against demonic beasts.”

Then I shook my hand, trying to loosen his grip on me. I looked at Siegren expectantly, but he did not let my hand go. “Siegren, let me go—”

“No way,” he said.

“What?”

Siegren glared at me. What was he getting angry about?

“What do you mean ‘what?’ The second rampart is the most dangerous area of the northern front. Even veteran knights and mercenaries who spent their entire lives fighting die there. How can a small kid like you guard that place, even if you’re a mage? Make it make sense!” he shouted.

Siegren then glared at Jeron, who stood frozen by the door.

“Is the Heylon Castle, the castle that is supposedly the strongest shield of the north, so pathetic it must depend on a child?” he demanded.