Seventh: Chapter 2 - Novem, my ex-fiancée

 

On top of the wagon, I turned my eyes toward the girl sitting across from me.

When I glanced at her, she was looking at me too. Our eyes met—then we both quickly looked away.

“Hahaha, how cute and innocent,”

chuckled the middle-aged traveling merchant, watching us with amusement.

Her name is Novem Focksuz.

Her hairstyle—a side ponytail—matched her long, light brown hair, giving her a bright, energetic impression. She carried a square leather bag, likely packed with travel gear.

She wasn't wearing the dress I usually saw her in. Instead, she’d chosen something easier to move around in. Her thick-soled boots made her look taller—more like a grown woman. Normally calm and composed, today she seemed a little tense.

I leaned forward and whispered low enough that the merchant wouldn’t hear.

“How did you know? And more importantly—are you out of your mind, coming with me like this?”

“…Was I a bother?”

With a troubled look, Novem, second daughter of a baron household, replied softly.

From a social status perspective, she wasn’t a match for me—an earl's son. Still, her Focksuz family had served the Walt house for generations.

Our engagement had been arranged by my parents when I turned thirteen, mostly because they couldn’t be bothered to deal with it properly.

Normally, noble marriages are handled with careful social consideration—either approaching a fitting house or entertaining proposals from one.

“That’s not the point. I’ve been disowned. Following someone like me now is just plain foolish.”

She had nothing to gain by sticking with me—not her, and not her family either.

Any proper noble would prioritize their household’s benefit. Sure, there were exceptions—but they were rare.

I never thought Novem was one of those exceptions.

We were the same age and had played together often when we were little.

But after my parents began to distance themselves from me, we barely spoke. I threw myself into training and studying, desperate for their approval.

“You’re a nuisance. I thought I could finally live free and do whatever I wanted.”

I said it hoping she’d take the hint and go home. I didn’t mean it. Not really.

But Novem wasn’t the type to be swept up in romantic fantasies. She was, in every way, the perfect candidate for a Walt family wife—even by our strict standards.

“…I’m sorry. But I’ve already decided—I will be your wife, Lord Lyle.”

She smiled as she said it, and I told her:

“I don’t share that intention. I’ll become an adventurer, surround myself with beautiful women, and live however I please. Being kicked out of my family? Honestly, I feel relieved.”

Low blow. I knew it. Maybe now she’d finally give up.

I looked down—I didn’t want to see her eyes judging me. But realizing I had to face her eventually, I raised my head.

(Surely, she hates me now…)

But Novem… just smiled.

“I made that decision on my own. Even if I can’t marry you, I will stay by your side and serve you.”

I wanted to bury my head in my hands.

“…What about the Focksuz family? Your parents—won’t they be upset?”

When I brought up her household, Novem answered confidently.

“They’re fine with it. I’m the second daughter—my older brother will inherit. I have an older sister and younger sister too, so they told me one daughter should be free to choose her own path and sent me off.”

(What the hell are the Focksuz parents thinking!?)

My head was starting to throb.

Novem was, by any measure, a beautiful young woman. She had been raised properly, with grace and education. Suitors would’ve come even if she just stood still.

She could’ve married into a viscount family, maybe even higher.

She had a real shot at happiness—and she was throwing that all away. For me.

I’d known her since childhood, and I truly wanted her to find happiness. But from the look in her eyes, I could tell she wasn’t going to budge.

(That’s right… she was always stubborn, even back then.)

“…Do what you want.”

When I turned away, Novem raised her hand to her lips and smiled.

“I intend to.”

The merchant, clearly listening in, let out a laugh.

“Youth really is a treasure.”

…So he’d heard everything.

My face turned red with embarrassment. But right then, I heard a voice.

‘Wow, someone’s popular, huh?’

The teasing voice came from nowhere. I glanced around the wagon in alarm.

But it was just me and Novem in the back, and the merchant was up front holding the reins. Around the wagon, other travelers were making their way down the road, but none were close enough to speak to me directly.

“Novem, did you hear that? It sounded like someone teasing me.”

Novem shook her head.

“I-I’m sorry… I didn’t hear anything.”

She looked genuinely apologetic, and I waved it off, saying it was no big deal.

The voice had definitely been male—strong and clear. But no one around was close enough. And stranger still… it had sounded like it came from right next to me.

(Hallucinations? Am I that tired? …Come to think of it, I have felt a little run-down lately. Maybe I’m not fully recovered from that injury.)

The voice had seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I looked up at the cloth canopy covering the wagon, then closed my eyes.

Maybe I was more mentally exhausted than I realized.

“You feeling okay, Lord Lyle?”

Novem asked with concern. I was about to reply, “I’m fine,” when I heard another voice—loud and clear, again nearby.