Chapter 6 – Small Days in the North (Part 2)

Winter quietly continued. Days rolled by like pages of a thick, comforting book read slowly, one chapter at a time. There were no wars. There were no monster threats. Only the sound of snow falling from pine branches and the soft footsteps of servants accustomed to walking quietly so as not to disturb the atmosphere. Honestly, my father said that for the past five years, the decreasing presence of monsters could be considered a blessing, although at that time, his face showed visible anxiety, as if there was another story behind it.

It was during this time that I began to get to know people outside my family. For nobles, servants were often considered part of the furniture. But I, with the adult soul I still carried from my old life, could never see them that way. I learned their names. Elmi, the young girl who always made sure the room windows were tightly shut. Bordan, the gardener who secretly loved to sing folk songs while working. And especially, Inya, the old servant who taught Aurelia and me how to make sweet bread rolls every Thursday.

"If you use too much sugar, this bread will fall apart when baked," she said one afternoon. I nodded, trying to adjust the measurements. Aurelia, who was initially sitting on a bench reading a strategy book, suddenly stood up and approached. "You can't let Alex cook by himself. Our kitchen will explode," she said dramatically. "Precisely because he is learning, our kitchen will be safer in the future," Inya said, smiling. Moments like that felt light, but held warmth. We formed an unwritten rhythm. Every Thursday, Inya would bring ingredients. I would measure. Aurelia would comment. And our sweet bread... though not perfect, was always finished at the dinner table.

Then there was the winter garden session. The palace had an indoor glass garden facing east. Inside it, plants from warmer regions remained alive due to artificial heating magic. That's where I often read books, surrounded by the scent of olive leaves and small purple flowers from the south. One day, I saw Aurelia sitting on a glass garden bench with a young servant beside her—Lyra, one of the new tea bearers. I approached slowly. "Aurelia?" She turned. "I'm talking to Lyra about poetry." "Poetry?" "Yes. Father always says, a warrior must know when to strike and when to reflect." I sat beside them. Lyra seemed nervous.

"What poem are you discussing?" Aurelia replied, opening a small sheet of paper. "About shields and love. About people who stand on the front lines not because of hatred for the enemy, but because of love for those behind them." I was silent. The sentence settled in my head. "It's funny, isn't it," I said softly, "even in this harsh world, there's still room for gentle words." Lyra looked at me for a moment, then gave a small smile. "Gentle words can be stronger than commands if they come from the right person, Young Master." I didn't refute. That night, I wrote in my journal: "This world is not just about strength. But about who you choose to protect, and who makes you want to keep standing."

...

The next day, I chatted with Bordan in the backyard garden. Snow hadn't fallen thickly that day, and some herbal plants were uncovered for seasonal adjustment. "I always wonder," I said, "you tend to plants even though you know they will soon die." Bordan laughed, wiping his hands clean of dirt. "That's why I take care of them. Because they will die. Isn't it better to have a short but happy life, than a long and meaningless one?" His words stuck with me. Again, not from a teacher, not from a noble. But from those who lived with a quiet rhythm.

These small lives... not recorded in history books... are what made my childhood beautiful. And amidst all these interactions, Aurelia remained the axis. She was present when I practiced formal speech with senior servants. She sat quietly when I played chess with one of the old guards. She even waited for me in front of Elaira's study every day, just to walk home together.

"Why do you always wait?" I asked one night. "Because even though all your lessons are great... the most important thing is to have someone to talk to when you're done." I was silent. My young heart realized that even though Aurelia was sometimes too strong, too close, too binding... she was also too sincere. Truly a sister who was always there.

And I didn't want to lose that.