The next day, I immediately sent the caravan back to Baha Balm.

Mentu wanted me to recover here first. After all, my wounds were severe—I’d nearly died.

But we’re on foreign soil. Accidents can strike any second.

Better safe than sorry. Besides, I’m too weak to move, but lying in the carriage is manageable.

I can endure the bumpy ride. I’m tough Sas—the one who survived countless stab wounds!

Heh, thinking this, I couldn’t help but smile proudly.

“Young master, what’s wrong? Your smile looks strange,” Morana asked. She was resting my head on her lap, the very one who’d stabbed me.

“Oh, just remembering something happy!”

“Is that so? As long as you’re happy, young master.”

After that night, I’d decided to care for Morana forever. I’d already said it: “Let’s be family.”

Near death, I’d felt utterly carefree. For a moment, I’d transcended life and death.

In my current state, I couldn’t say those words again.

A normal person would rage or fear after being stabbed.

But the closer I got to death, the more at peace I became.

Was this some zen moment? Huh, that sounds weird!

Since last night’s events, Morana clung to me. Now, I enjoyed her lap pillow. She didn’t resist, carefully changing my bandages.

She’d started calling me “young master.” Why? I didn’t know.

That title reminded me of the old butler… but my heart no longer ached with sorrow. Instead, I felt strangely at ease.

If she liked calling me that, fine. I didn’t mind.

But Morana saw herself as a servant.

“Morana.”

“Yes?”

Her expressionless face leaned closer at my call.

Ugh, last night she’d been so expressive. Now, just this poker face. I missed the lively Morana.

“We’re family, okay?”

“Mhm. Always, from now on.”

Then she pressed her face against my chest.

Ouch… she brushed my wound. But I couldn’t say anything. This was awful.

“So you’re not my servant.”

“But you are my young master.”

“…”

She had a point. Huh, sharp tongue, Morana.

“I won’t let anyone suffer your tragedy again.”

“Mhm. You’ll do it, young master.”

“Not just me. I can’t do it alone. It’s us—the people working hard in Baha Balm.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m taking you back. Will you follow me?”

“What if I say no?”

“Heh, that’d be troublesome.”

“No ‘what ifs,’ young master. I’ll stay with you forever. Because we’re family.”

A faint smile finally touched Morana’s usually blank face.

Her gentle voice, that charming smile—it melted every icy shard in my heart.

“Heh… yeah, kiddo.”

I reached out, stroking her beautiful silver hair.

Under my touch, Morana’s calm face softened into pure bliss. How to describe it? Like a cat’s contentment—almost rolling over for belly rubs.

She really loved having her head petted.

“Morana, do you like others touching your head?”

“Only you, young master.”

Only me, huh.

“Let me tell you a story.”

“Mhm. I’m listening.”

So I slowly recounted my life with the old butler… those memories.

Morana listened quietly. Then she realized—the day she’d tried to kill me was when I’d learned of his death.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve said that countless times that night.”

“Mhm.”

I felt the girl trembling slightly.

Her fragile frame—I feared it might snap. I hugged Morana tightly.

“Heh, stop shaking. I’m scared you’ll break.”

“Mhm.”

Her trembling ceased. Then I felt a damp patch on my chest.

She was crying.

“Young master, may I tell you a story too?”

“I’m listening.”

And so, on this long journey, we poured out our hearts to each other.