When My Enemies Began to Regret

What followed was a mild argument.

“Are you really just going out to get clay? Or did you get into a fight with someone?”

“…”

“Be honest. This isn’t something you can just brush off.”

As she pressed him with a cold voice, Carl reluctantly confessed the truth.

“I’m sorry.”

“Is being sorry enough? I’ve told you repeatedly. While we’re in Libo, we need to keep a low profile!”

“…”

“So, who did you hit this time? Why did you do it?”

“…On the mountain slope, someone was screaming…”

“Screaming?”

“When I went to see, a bandit was attacking a villager…”

As he haltingly explained the situation, Fanora pressed her forehead and groaned. Yes, it wasn’t like him to randomly hit someone innocent. But even his righteous act of saving a citizen from bandits wasn’t very welcome in their current situation.

“You should have ignored it.”

“But the person was being attacked by a bandit…”

“Don’t you know how complicated things get if tax collectors or the church notice us?”

They were not in a position to be conspicuous. The Andras family was desperate to capture them, so they had been minimizing contact with villagers in Kollaeng to hide their presence. But now, here he was, needlessly showing off his strength. Fanora was more than a little displeased with this development.

“First, take off that mess of a wig. Take it off and come in, then we’ll talk.”

Moreover, her anger was heightened because this wasn’t the first time such an incident had occurred.

Before reaching Libo, they had stayed in a city in Kollaeng and considered settling down there. Kollaeng, affected by a recent plague that reduced its population, was lenient towards immigrants. The city even had a law that recognized fugitive serfs or criminals as citizens if they stayed for a year and a day. Considering the mild climate and such laws, it seemed a perfect place. But soon, Fanora and Carl had to leave the city.

“It’s a relief that at least this time you didn’t hit a noble’s son. Really, sometimes…”

With an irritated expression, Fanora approached him. She first collected the black wig he wore for disguise, examining him quietly.

Carl then spoke in a small voice. He clearly looked sorry. “I know I should stay put, but…”

“…”

“I couldn’t help it again. I’m sorry…”

Until now, they had managed to escape the pursuers from Kasius or naturally got into fights when crossing the city gates. It was a problem she had forgotten for a while, but Carl was a descendant of Andras, who would fall ill if he didn’t fight for a few days. Perhaps his nature was to blame for the trouble he brought back this time.

Seeing him looking pitifully sorry, Fanora softened her stern face. Had he been unrepentantly brazen about his mistake, she would have been furious. But at least Carl was good at apologizing.

“That’s why I said I would be your sparring partner. I promised to take responsibility for you.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Didn’t you used to pester me to fight?”

As she spoke, sweeping the wig made from her own hair, Carl shook his head vehemently. His face was a picture of misery.

“I used to say whenever I saw Lady Fanora that I wanted to spar… I mistakenly thought my heart fluttered because I found a strong opponent.”

“…!”

“But now, you know what that feeling really meant.”

This was an unexpected confession of love. From Fanora’s perspective, she had often wondered about it. When did Carl start liking her? It’s a common question for people in a relationship, but she never expected to hear an explanation from the person himself. Fanora’s face grew complex as she tightly pressed her lips together.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Lady Fanora.”

“Carl…”

“Of course, it’s obvious. But the thought of sparring with you… makes my heart race in a way it shouldn’t.”

His stuttering and nervous demeanor made Fanora gently take his hand. He felt her warmth and spoke in a shaky voice. “You must be upset with me for feeling this way.”

Carl was already well aware of how Andras’s temperament appeared to others. Such violent impulses were often misunderstood, and he thought speaking about them would only make him seem strange.

“…”

But Fanora wasn’t just anyone. Like the fated partners in storybooks, she never pointed fingers at Carl. Instead, she looked at her troubled lover with sad eyes.

“Don’t worry. How can I be upset when I’m with you?”

“Really?”

“…On a cold day like this, being near someone warm can brighten your mood.”

Fanora glanced at the frost-covered front yard before continuing. “Let’s put this aside for now and focus on today’s tasks, okay?”

It seemed to be getting colder. They had better finish the repair work before it got worse.

Carl nodded to her suggestion, holding the clay and entering the cabin. Thus, they started repairing the interior wall. Fanora mixed the clay with thin twigs to fill the gaps in the cabin, chatting with Carl as they worked.

“Carl, I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?”

“Wouldn’t it be better to have someone by your side to help you rather than enduring it alone?”

“Help?”

“Let’s try different methods from now on.”

As they talked and repaired, the cabin soon became windproof.

Fanora, wiping sweat from her work, said, “Even I, obsessed with revenge, eventually gave it up. We never know how things will turn out.”

Her voice was firm with an unwavering gaze. In her words, there was always a concern for him. This was one of the reasons Carl had fallen for her.

* * *

It was 10 days later. One morning, Fanora woke up to a chill creeping up her neck. She got out of bed and stepped onto the floor, realizing there was no other sign of life in the cabin. Walking to the jar where she kept washing water, she felt the bone-chilling cold under her feet.

“It’s cold even inside the cabin…”

In the past, she would have woken up to the warmth of a fireplace lit by servants. Now, there were no servants like Cecil or Butler to manage the mansion. She washed her face with ice-cold water, reminiscing about the past.

Now, she had no intention of going back to being the daughter of a count. It was true that she was worried. This was their first winter after giving up their last names. Winter preparations like stocking up on firewood and managing food supplies required attention.

Besides worries about winter, there was another pressing issue.

After washing up, Fanora looked at the door, hearing the sound of her housemate returning.

“Good morning, Lady Fanora. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes.”

“Did you have a good dream?”

“I think so. You appeared in it.”

The familiar face of the man entered as the worn wooden door opened. He exercised every morning to keep his body from stiffening.

Carl, removing the wig made from her hair, smiled, his breath white in the cold. “You say such sudden embarrassing things, Lady Fanora. Saying you had a good dream because I was in it…”

But Fanora couldn’t relax her expression even at his laughter. She wiped her face with a cloth on the table and cautiously spoke. “So, Carl, how are you feeling today?”

Carl’s smile faded at her question, and he awkwardly tilted his head. Anyone could see his response wasn’t positive.

“I’ll prepare breakfast first.”

Today marked the 10

th

day since Carl stopped fighting. Unfortunately, Fanora hadn’t found a significant solution in these 10 days. The best she managed was to temporarily divert his attention. The effectiveness of this method lasted less than three days.

“Can I help with anything?”

“No need. I already prepared the vegetables yesterday.”

“Well, then… I’ll start the fire.”

The man, who seemed born to be a knight, was growing increasingly haggard since avoiding fights. He often fell into baseless anxiety, suffered sleepless nights, and began to get irritable over trivial matters. He never directed his annoyance at Fanora, but she was surprised by this change.

One day, Carl, who was imitating a gentle personality, got angry and asked, ‘Why do the hinges of this old door make such an irritating sound?’

Fanora found his new demeanor unfamiliar, making her extra cautious.

They had a simple breakfast. It was a bland soup that normal nobles would refuse, but they both quietly finished their meal. After eating, they tackled the pending housework. Cleaning the kitchen stains, ventilating the smoke-filled air, and more.

“…”

They weren’t so poor as to rely on sewing for a living. And in winter, there wasn’t much work to do, anyway. With the housework done, they should have been relaxing and sharing stories.

“Are you okay?” Fanora asked, her face heavy with concern. The man with red hair was sitting down at the end of her gaze.

“At first, I thought about tying up your arms and legs if you couldn’t control yourself.”

Fanora surveyed her partner, sitting on the bed. He usually smiled easily, even without any particular reason, but today, his expression was grave, his head bowed. Not stopping there, beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead.

“This isn’t as simple as I thought.”

He seemed to struggle physically against his Andras nature. Seeing this, Fanora’s expression turned gloomy.

“…I think I was wrong. I didn’t expect it would be this hard for you.”

“…”

“I keep failing to find a new hobby for you…”

Her tone was different from the confident one she had 10 days ago.

She sat next to him and cautiously made a suggestion. “Carl, if this continues, you’ll harm yourself. We can’t do this.”

“What do you suggest?”

“We’ll find a way to live without changing the essence of Andras. Maybe you could become a swordsmanship teacher…”

Fanora wiped the sweat from his forehead with her sleeve, her voice filled with her typical compassionate nature. Hearing this, Carl felt his tense nerves slightly relax.

“Or how about working under Kollaeng’s nobles as an executioner. If we push with money, you can quickly complete the professional qualification…”

“Lady Fanora…”

“I-it’s seen as a lowly job, but so what? As long as you’re not suffering…”

She was earnestly pondering how he could live without changing. But his response was different.

“Lady Fanora, I don’t just want to discard the name of Andras.”