Chapter 120
The wind swept softly across the grasslands.
John's eyes slowly opened.
Aya's question lingered between them.
"...Have you..."
"...Truly fallen for the Princess of Lumivale?"
Silence.
The river flowed quietly.
Without hesitation—
"...Yes."
Aya froze.
Her dark eyes widened.
For a brief moment...
She simply stared at him.
As though she had misheard.
"...You..."
Her voice trembled.
"...You actually admitted it."
John remained silent.
Aya lowered her head.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips.
"...After everything..."
She clenched her fists.
"...After all these years..."
"...You abandoned everything..."
She slowly looked back at him.
Pain filled her eyes.
"...You abandoned Lord Tomasi..."
"...You abandoned our mission..."
"...You even abandoned the chance to see your own mother again..."
"...All..."
"...For a girl?"
The wind carried away her trembling voice.
"...Was she really worth more than the mother who waited a thousand years for you?"
Silence.
John closed his eyes.
"...Aya."
Hearing her own name from him...
Her body stiffened.
His voice was quiet.
Gentle.
Yet unwavering.
"...That isn't the reason."
Aya looked at him.
Confusion.
Anger.
Heartbreak.
All mixed together.
John slowly turned toward the endless river.
"...I didn't leave Lord Tomasi because I fell in love with Princess Flora."
A long silence followed.
Then—
"...I had already chosen a different path..."
"...Long before I ever realized I loved her."
Aya's breathing stopped.
She couldn't understand.
"...Then..."
"...Why?"
John looked toward the flowing river.
"...Because..."
The wind suddenly grew stronger.
"...I finally opened my eyes."
Far away...
The massive gates of Frostgard slowly opened.
RUMBLE—
Thick walls of ice-covered stone parted as the convoy entered the kingdom.
Princess Flora quietly looked ahead.
The city was unlike anything she had ever imagined.
Snow covered every rooftop.
Yet despite the endless winter...
Life flourished.
Warm golden lanterns hung outside every home, their gentle light reflecting against the snow like countless stars.
Buildings carved from pale stone and dark timber stood side by side, their steep roofs designed so heavy snow slid harmlessly to the ground.
Thin streams of smoke drifted from almost every chimney.
The air carried the comforting scent of burning pinewood.
Esabell's eyes sparkled.
"...It's so pretty."
She slowly turned her head, trying to take everything in.
"...Everything looks so different."
Chris smiled.
"It almost feels like another world."
Vendetta nodded quietly.
"It is."
"For many travelers..."
"Frostgard is the end of the world."
The convoy continued through the streets.
Unlike Lumivale's bustling capital...
Frostgard was peaceful.
There were no loud merchants shouting for customers.
No crowded marketplaces.
People walked calmly through the snow, greeting one another with quiet smiles before continuing on their way.
Even the children played differently.
Instead of chasing one another through gardens...
They built small walls of snow or slid down gentle slopes on wooden sleds.
Esabell couldn't help smiling.
"...They're adorable."
Marco observed the city carefully.
"It isn't a large kingdom."
Vendetta answered.
"There is little land here suitable for building."
"The mountains decide where people may live."
Flora looked around once more.
The streets were narrower than those of Lumivale.
The houses stood closer together.
Everything had been built carefully...
As though every piece of land had been precious.
Chris glanced toward several wooden racks standing outside many homes.
Long strips of meat hung from them, slowly drying in the freezing air.
"...What's that?"
Vendetta followed his gaze.
"Preserved meat."
"The cold keeps it from spoiling."
"Our winters are too long to waste food."
Marco nodded thoughtfully.
"So your people preserve everything they can."
"They have to."
Vendetta's voice remained calm.
"The frozen ground cannot support large farms."
"There are a few greenhouses near hot springs..."
"But they produce only enough vegetables for part of the population."
Flora listened quietly.
"So..."
"...how does everyone survive?"
Vendetta looked toward the distant mountains.
"The sea."
She pointed toward the frozen coastline barely visible beyond the city.
"Our fishermen harvest fish from beneath the ice."
She then looked toward the forests surrounding Frostgard.
"Our hunters bring back wolves, elk, mountain goats, snow rabbits, and other animals."
"The forests feed us."
"The sea feeds us."
"And during the short summer..."
"We gather everything we can before winter tightens its grip again."
Esabell looked surprised.
"...That sounds incredibly difficult."
Vendetta gave a small nod.
"It is."
"No one survives alone in Nivorheim."
"Here..."
"Neighbors become family."
The words lingered in everyone's mind.
Princess Flora quietly looked out the window of the sleigh.
Perhaps...
That was why the people here seemed so peaceful.
Survival had taught them to depend upon one another.
As the convoy continued deeper into the city...
Chris suddenly blinked.
"...Has anyone else noticed something?"
Marco looked around.
"...What?"
Chris scratched his cheek.
"...Almost everyone has blond hair."
Esabell looked more carefully.
"...You're right."
"And..."
"...their eyes."
She blinked in surprise.
"So many of them have blue eyes."
Children running through the streets.
Merchants standing outside small shops.
Old men clearing snow from rooftops.
Young women carrying baskets of freshly caught fish.
Many shared the same striking features.
Golden hair.
Brilliant blue eyes.
Vendetta noticed their curiosity.
"It has been this way for generations."
"The people of Nivorheim have remained isolated from the outside world."
"Our bloodlines changed very little over the centuries."
Chris glanced toward Vendetta before looking back at the townspeople.
"...That explains it."
"You fit in perfectly."
For the first time in quite a while...
A faint smile appeared on Vendetta's face.
"...This is where I was born."
As they traveled farther...
Flora noticed something else.
Nearly every woman wore a delicate silver ornament upon her head.
Some resembled slender circlets.
Others looked like graceful crowns woven from silver branches and tiny blue crystals.
Even young girls wore simpler versions adorned with snowflake-shaped charms.
Flora tilted her head slightly.
"...Those are beautiful."
Vendetta followed her gaze.
"The Frost Tiara."
"It is a traditional symbol of womanhood in Nivorheim."
"When a girl comes of age..."
"Her family gifts her one."
"No two are exactly alike."
"They are usually crafted by hand and passed down through generations."
Esabell smiled warmly.
"...They're beautiful."
"They're like family treasures."
Vendetta nodded.
"They remind us where we come from..."
"...and those who came before us."
Princess Flora quietly watched another young girl laughing as the silver ornament shimmered beneath the falling snow.
Every kingdom had its own traditions.
Its own history.
Its own way of preserving the past.
And Frostgard...
Carried its history proudly, even beneath the endless winter.
Ahead...
The road slowly began climbing once more.
High above the city...
The royal palace stood carved directly into the mountainside.
Its towering walls glittered beneath the pale winter sun like a fortress sculpted from crystal itself.
The convoy continued toward it.
Lord Dev's residence...
Was finally within reach.
...CHAPTER 120ENDS...