A week had passed since the trip to Grandell City. Life in the village had settled back into its slow, rhythmic pace, but inside the small farmhouse, the mood had been tense ever since they returned.
Late into the night, by the dim glow of a flickering candle, Grace and Daniel sat across from each other at the scarred wooden kitchen table.
"It's not just about the education, Daniel! It's about his life!" Grace whispered harshly, her voice strained as she tried to keep it low. "You heard what Gerald said about Cid. You saw the way Cid looked at those people. He has a spark that this village will smother."
"And what about us?" Daniel replied, his voice a low rumble. "I spent years bleeding so I could finally have this. The farm is my peace, Grace. It's my retirement. I hung up my sword for a plow for a reason."
"You're being selfish," Grace hissed. "You're clinging to a patch of dirt while your son's future is waiting beyond the horizon."
"It's not just dirt! It's our livelihood!"
Daniel's fist thudded against the table, making the ceramic mugs rattle. He immediately glanced toward the hallway, freezing to see if he had woken the boy.
When no sound came, he continued in a frantic whisper. "If we move to Grandell, we're nothing. We'd be just another pair of peasants in a city that eats the poor alive. Here, we have a name. We aren't rich, but so what? We are still better off than so many people, and you want me to sell the very roof over our heads? How will we earn money in the city? How will we keep up with rent? We can't afford to move, Grace. Why don't you understand that?"
"Yes! We will sell every last bit of it if we have to!" Grace retorted, leaning across the table. "I don't care what hardship I have to suffer if it gives him the slightest chance at something greater. I will not leave him there alone. I don't care who promises to watch over him, no distant cousin and no 'safe' boarding house is enough. If he goes, we go. We are his shield, Daniel. Or have you forgotten what it's like for a child with no one at his back in a place like that?"
Realizing what she had just said, Grace wanted to apologize immediately, but she held herself back.
The silence that followed was heavy. Daniel, the retired adventurer, looked down at his calloused, scarred hands. He knew the world outside better than anyone; he knew the shadows that lurked in the city alleys and the way the wealthy looked at people like them.
"We can't take the risk," Daniel said, his voice cracking. "If we sell everything, there's no coming back. If we fail, we will become beggars."
"We won't fail," Grace said, her hand reaching out to cover his. Her tone softened, but her eyes remained fierce. "You're a veteran adventurer. Even with your injury, you are still more useful than those low-level newbies, and I can work in the markets. We've survived worse than a change of scenery. But look at him, Daniel. Really look at our boy. He doesn't belong in the mud. He belongs in a place where he can reach for the skies."
Daniel grumbled, the heat leaving his voice, replaced by a deep, lingering anxiety. "Understand this, Grace, I want better for him, too. But I hate leaving everything to chance. We may not be able to give him everything he deserves, but I wanted this to be a place he could come back to when things are hard. I wanted a safe haven for him where he doesn't need to worry about anything. I don't want to stand in the way of my son's future... what kind of father would I be then? I just don't want to repeat the mistakes of my past."
He unconsciously gripped his injured leg, rubbing the old scar beneath his trousers. "Sometimes, the smallest mistake leads to the greatest trouble. I just hope this isn't one of them."
Daniel let out a long, heavy sigh, the sound of a man surrendering a battle he knew he was destined to lose. He pushed his chair back, the legs scraping softly against the floor.
"Fine," he whispered, the word carrying the weight of a mountain. "We'll do it. I'll contact the land agent in the morning."
"Thank you," Grace murmured.
Grace understood very well that she had deeply hurt her husband's feelings, the man who had never said no to her. But she felt she had to do it. Grandell took three days to reach from the village, and they couldn't travel frequently for Cid, which would only put everyone in harm's way. Moving to Grandell city was their only option.
And Daniel understood that fact, too. But what he feared wasn't just the move or having the means to support them; he feared it wouldn't be enough.
He was afraid to face the truth, that his injury had taken something far more important than he had ever realized. He would never achieve his dreams, nor give his wife the life he had wanted for her. Worse, he feared accepting that he was nothing more than an adventurer whose time had already passed. And moving to Grandell City, seeking out its people, would only force him to confront that truth every single day.
That thought hurt them both.
However, Cid was not the only reason Grace was so adamant about leaving the small village. In fact, she didn't actually mind leaving Cid in someone else's hands for his time in Grandell City; she knew her little rascal was smarter than her husband realized. The thought made her smile inwardly.
She loved Daniel, loved him more than anyone else in her life, even more than her child. But she wasn't blind. She knew that since Daniel retired, not a single day went by where he didn't train with his swords, struggling again and again to get used to the fact that his leg would never be the same. Such an injury was simply too much for a swordsman to continue his work.
But Daniel, who had grown up seeing everyone else's talent, never realized that he had a talent, too: the talent of never giving up. The fire in his eyes when he went on a mission was so fierce it made her proud.
She wanted him to realize that. She wanted him to have that fire once more, to do what he loved, and she knew she would have to push him.
She would have to push him hard, even hurt him, so that he had no choice but to pick up his sword once more. She found nothing sadder than seeing her husband look with longing whenever he stared at those guild adventurers. She hated that look almost as much as she hated herself.
She hoped that one day, she could see her husband with the same look he used to have in his younger days.