Chapter 11
It did not take long for evening to arrive.
At least, that was how it felt.
How should he apologize? How should he begin? What words should he use?
Elric found himself facing something he had never done in his life, but no clear answer came to him.
In the end, this was something he would only understand by doing it.
Thus began the first dinner he would share with Tiria since returning to Wibin.
“I apologize if I am late.”
She appeared just as the appetizers were being placed on the table.
Her attire differed from the daytime.
Elric shook his head.
“It has only just begun. Please, sit.”
He half rose to greet her, though he could not be sure whether his manners were appropriate for nobility.
He was ignorant in such matters. Moreover, a multi-course dinner like this was entirely new to him.
In his childhood, meals had always been simple—his father valued efficiency above all else.
On the battlefield, there had been no time to set aside hours for dining and conversation.
He hoped nothing about his behavior was improper.
Fortunately, Tiria did not seem particularly bothered.
“Please, head of the house, you should sit as well. Standing must be uncomfortable.”
As she took her seat, Elric gave a small nod and smiled.
“Let us begin, then.”
He picked up his utensils.
Elvers Graham had once told him that a proper meal required more than ten different utensils, but Wibin’s course meal was nothing like that.
A spoon, a fork, and a knife. Simple.
That simplicity eased Elric’s mind slightly.
He chewed a bite of fresh greens and glanced at Tiria.
As always, she ate gracefully, without even the faintest sound of cutlery.
Soon…
No, perhaps it would be too abrupt to jump straight to the main topic.
Start with casual conversation.
“How was your day?”
“The wheat is in good condition. We expect a high yield.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. It looks like the best harvest in seven years.”
“I see…”
The conversation died there.
Cold sweat formed on Elric’s back.
Was talking always this difficult?
He suddenly realized something unsettling.
He could not remember the last time he had a proper casual conversation after leaving home.
The only person he had spoken to normally was Elvers Graham, and even then Elvers always led the conversation.
At that moment, Elric deeply regretted the fact that all he truly possessed was swordsmanship.
“Um…”
He tried to continue, forcing new topics, mostly about the estate.
But they were the kind of questions that could not sustain conversation for long.
Eventually, by the time the main dish arrived, the awkward silence remained.
As the time passed uselessly, Elric let out a deep sigh.
What am I even doing?
He scolded himself.
This felt cowardly.
He had called her here to apologize, yet he was wasting time with meaningless small talk, just like a child avoiding punishment.
No amount of casual conversation would bridge the gap.
You could not cut an enemy without drawing your blade.
Clink.
Elric set down his utensils.
He lifted his head and looked at Tiria.
She also looked up at the sound.
Now, he could finally see her face clearly.
There was something distant about her expression—composed, reserved, almost noble.
She seemed like someone who would remain unbroken no matter what happened.
But that meant something else as well.
Tiria Portman had lived a life where she was never allowed to fall.
If people were shaped by their environment—as Elvers Graham said—then she had become this kind of adult because she had endured alone in a world where no one stood beside her.
And Elric was the one who had left her there.
“I brought you here for a reason,” he said. “What I mentioned in the wheat field earlier.”
“You said there was something you wished to discuss.”
“Yes.”
“Please, speak.”
Tiria lowered her gaze slightly.
Her eyes fixed on the table, her hands neatly folded on her lap.
For some reason, that sight made something inside Elric ache.
It looked too much like the posture of someone being reprimanded.
Like someone waiting for judgment.
Was she expecting scolding for what happened with House Wibin?
Or perhaps…
Does she think I’m going to send her away?
That quiet resignation struck him painfully.
She looked like someone who would accept it without resistance if it happened.
She did not deserve to be treated that way.
Elric clenched his fist.
And spoke carefully.
“…I’m sorry.”
Tiria frowned slightly.
Then she looked up, confusion in her eyes.
Elric gave a bitter smile.
“I am sorry. I invited you here because I wanted to apologize.”
“What are you apologizing for?”
Of course she would ask.
Elric answered immediately.
“For everything. For leaving ten years ago, for returning only now, and for not seeking you out during all that time.”
At that moment, he saw it clearly.
Tiria’s expression changed.
It was the first time—no, perhaps the second time. The first had been when they met in the wheat fields.
Her green eyes, usually half-hidden beneath long lashes, were fully revealed. Her brows softened, her lips parted slightly, and her shoulders relaxed as tension left her posture.
She looked genuinely startled.
Elric continued.
“I know it sounds like an excuse. But I still feel I must explain. I was too young back then. It was an impulsive decision.”
At first, he had left to stop a marriage that would make her unhappy.
But the decision to run away entirely had ultimately come from his father’s words.
Repay the cost of raising you.
That verbal blade still remained embedded in him.
“The reason I did not return was hatred at first, then urgency, and finally hesitation. I left because I despised my father. I did not realize it would cause you such hardship. I thought you would have already returned to your family home…”
No.
That was an excuse.
Given that the marriage had been arranged as a political contract, such a thing was unlikely.
If he had thought more carefully, he would have realized it immediately.
The truth was that he had avoided thinking about it at all.
Elric closed his mouth.
Then he lowered his head briefly.
“I’m sorry. This is not just an apology in words. I intend to make amends—”
“Was it not me?”
“…Hm?”
He looked up.
Tiria had covered her mouth with her hand.
As if she had just spoken without thinking.
“…I apologize. I interrupted you.”
So that was what she was concerned about.
Typical of her.
Elric shook his head.
“It’s fine. And no—you were not the reason I left.”
He continued.
“You were simply caught in the conflict between my father and me.”
He was not asking for forgiveness.
Offering apologies alone to stain someone else’s life was more shameful than not apologizing at all.
Elric needed to pay a price.
Fortunately, there was something he could offer.
The inheritance.
His father’s inheritance.
Everything his father had built over a lifetime—and the wealth Tiria had helped sustain.
It was originally hers to begin with.
And beyond that, the land and the house itself also belonged to her, the one who had fulfilled her responsibility and duty.
Elric had run from those responsibilities all his life.
Now that it was too late to bear them, the least he could do was fulfill what remained.
There was no other way.
If this had been ten years ago, things might have been different.
But too much had changed.
The reckless boy had become a mercenary who lived by the sword.
And the lonely girl had become a woman who survived only by enduring alone.
If anything was to be changed, it should have been ten years ago.
Now, stepping in would only make him a thief taking away what she had built.
If they truly cared for each other, then separation was the correct answer.
Elric finally made his decision.
I should leave.
He would give her everything she rightfully deserved.
And once his leg had fully healed—
Once Portman had secured her future with what it had built—
He would depart.
“May I ask one thing?” he said politely. “Will you accept my apology?”
Tiria, now composed again, replied:
“…There is no need for an apology. I have never resented you.”
And just like that, she returned to her meal as if nothing had happened.
The sound of cutlery briefly resumed, then faded again.
It was ambiguous.
But Elric chose not to dig deeper into her intentions.
His decision had already been made.
