Chapter 8

Remaining mounted, Patrice made sure he could draw his sword at any moment, then approached the two knights who had already drawn their swords and were on guard.

However, one of them fortunately recognized Patrice's face, lowered his sword, and introduced himself as a knight of the Carriere family.

Patrice also dismounted and formally introduced himself, asking if Claris was there, to which the knights confirmed she was.

When Patrice requested to see her, the knights hesitated for a moment but then led him through.

Patrice thanked them, entrusted his horse, and approached with tension.

Despite his quickening heartbeat, he walked slowly and stepped into the thicket, where Claris was holding her sword hilt, ready to draw it at any moment.

"Patrice...?"

Claris, wide-eyed, muttered in surprise and quickly covered her mouth.

But hearing her name called after so long, Patrice's anticipation grew, and he quickened his pace.

"Your Grace, that—"

"It's Patrice."

"Excuse me?"

"Call me Patrice. Just like you did three years ago."

Changing the way she addressed him, Patrice blurted out his wish, but he wondered if it was too forward. Seeing Claris's flustered expression, Patrice realized she was anxious.

Her flustered appearance was endearing, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Since when...?"

Patrice walked closer but stopped at Claris's question.

He was afraid of being dismissed if he told the truth, but he decided to be honest anyway.

"When you... were injured—until I saw the scars on your unconscious arm, I didn't realize. But the biggest problem was that I didn't realize my own foolishness until I had inflicted a wound on you that wouldn't heal."

Claris touched the scar on her right arm from three years ago and lowered her eyes in thought.

However, she quickly raised her head and looked straight at Patrice.

Her blue eyes were filled with strong resolve.

"This injury is the result of my own carelessness. Besides, I have been deceiving Your Grace—"

"No, that's not true. I was trapped by my preconceptions and failed to see the real you. If I had faced you properly, I would have realized this simple truth. I only learned about Chris after the war ended."

"Did you care?"

"The area around here was safe, but the land a bit to the south became a battlefield. The Chris I knew was curious and a bit reckless."

"That's..."

Seeing Claris hesitate, Patrice recalled the past and felt a warm feeling.

But remembering his own foolishness, he sighed and continued.

"When I learned that he had died of illness, I was shocked. Despite seeing many deaths, it was a strange feeling. I also learned that you had a sister. When I heard your name at the ball, I was surprised. But I immediately thought I should marry you to honor Chris's memory. Yet, I was also angry. I was furious that you were attending a ball so soon after Chris's death. In my arrogant anger, I believed I was doing the right thing and ignored your wishes and the opinions of those around me."

"Is the 'real me' you speak of Chris? Did that change how you saw me?"

"No, it's not that. You are Claris. If you weren't, I wouldn't—"

Patrice's words trailed off.

Confessing here would be too presumptuous.

Wondering how to make Claris understand, Patrice scratched his head in frustration.

"I... I wanted to thank you..."

"Thank me?"

Unable to find the right words, Patrice changed the subject and reached into his pocket.

He pulled out the charm bag Claris had given him.

"There is no better gift for a soldier. Thank you."

"No, it's nothing. I'm sorry it took so long to give it to you..."

Patrice, ignoring the circumstances of the gift—sent with a farewell letter—thanked her, but it seemed to be a mistake.

It was clearly something Claris wanted to forget, and she averted her eyes.

Feeling his hope wane, Patrice put the charm away and continued.

"Also, I have to apologize to you, but I also have a letter of apology from Silves."

"From Silves?"

Claris looked up, puzzled, and Patrice nodded solemnly.

"Silves confessed to me that he had been rude to you and apologized. He believed the rumors and was angry on my behalf, wanting to make the ducal mansion an uncomfortable place for you. The other servants felt the same. But the one who is truly at fault is me. I never explained anything about you to Silves. Please accept Silves's apology."

With that, Patrice took a letter from his pocket and handed it to Claris.

Anxious about whether she would accept it, Patrice was relieved when Claris stepped forward and took the letter.

The next moment, she took his hand, and Patrice caught his breath.

"I will accept Silves's apology. It's not just Your Grace who is at fault. I... I deceived Your Grace as Chris. Even after our marriage was decided, I continued to deceive you without being honest. Instead of punishing me, you showed me great kindness. I can't express how grateful I am. Wasn't it Your Grace who arranged for the king to order our annulment in front of everyone?"

Claris, speaking rapidly, took a deep breath and smiled broadly.

Patrice's heart raced.

"Thank you for coming to see me and worrying about me. I am fully recovered, so there's no need to worry. Please, don't blame yourself anymore. Free yourself from the burden of me."

Claris lightly tapped her cheek to show that the scar was fine.

The scar was barely noticeable, and Patrice, though not bothered by it, was relieved that it was important to her.

At the same time, he held her hand tightly, not wanting to let go.

"Your Grace?"

"Call me Patrice. I know I don't deserve it, but I don't want to let go of your hand yet."

"Patrice, why...?"

"Three years ago, the situation was unstable, and we were constantly at war. I was quite bitter and couldn't find peace even with my comrades. Feeling suffocated, I left the unit that day. That's when I met Chris here. After that, even though I wanted to be alone, I found myself coming here whenever I had time. I wanted to talk to Chris—wanted to talk to you."

"That's not how it seemed. I always felt like I was in the way... But I was having so much fun that I couldn't hold back..."

"I was having fun too. It was the first time I enjoyed a conversation. And swinging sticks around reminded me of playing with my brothers as a child."

Patrice smiled at the memory but was also reminded of the painful past.

Claris, sensing his pain, squeezed his hand tightly.

"Patrice, when you told me I couldn't come here anymore and that we couldn't meet, I finally realized I loved you. I also realized I couldn't live as a man anymore. Of course, I never expected my feelings to be reciprocated... I just wanted to meet you as a woman once. I wanted to surprise you by revealing that I was Chris. If I could, I wanted you to say I looked beautiful. That's why I tried to surprise you at the ball that night... I caused you so much trouble because of that—"

"That's not true. I was the foolish one that night and in the days that followed. I thought marriage would fulfill my duty. I didn't take your letters seriously, thinking they were just a ploy. I only learned about the rumors from my brother at the wedding. I was confused and decided to send you to the estate to distance you from the rumors. I thought that would solve everything."

"Such a—"

"You have always faced unreasonable treatment without giving up. I admire and respect your strength. But the one who hurt you was not a thief or Samond, but me. Since our reunion, I have been hurting you. That's why I thought I had to set you free. It's too late to start over now."

"Patrice..."

"I can speak so freely to you, about both good and bad things. When I was alone, I realized how lonely and empty my life was without you."

Patrice, who had been honest with Claris, spoke clearly about his feelings.

He then picked up a branch and offered it to her.

"Claris, I know it's presumptuous, but I don't want to regret doing nothing. So, please... can we be friends again?"

Claris, mouth agape, looked back and forth between the branch and Patrice.

But her surprised expression soon turned into a smile, and she took the branch Patrice offered.

"There's a condition."

"Condition?"

"Yes. Let's have a match, just like that day. Of course, Patrice, with this."

Claris picked up a small twig, less than half the size of the branch.

Patrice, feeling nostalgic and excited, raised an eyebrow, and Claris continued with a smile.

"If Patrice wins, we'll start as friends. But if I win—"

"If you win?"

"Then... please escort me to my uncle's celebration soon!"

Patrice, whose heart swelled with hope, was surprised by the unexpected condition.

He couldn't help but smile and quickly composed himself, nodding.

"Alright. I accept the condition."

This was a serious match.

No matter how much he wanted to lose, he couldn't hold back.

"Here I come!"

"Alright."

With an energetic shout, Claris attacked.

Patrice saw through all her strikes and parried them, eventually knocking her branch away.

Though he felt a bit sorry, seeing Claris's smile made him think it was for the best.

Patrice also smiled and shook hands with Claris, reaffirming their friendship.