Closer and closer.
He could almost feel the cold, metallic chill of its steel spikes. For some reason, in this life-or-death moment, a flurry of thoughts suddenly flooded his mind. Scenes from his past flashed rapidly before his eyes.
He remembered.
He remembered how, before his departure, his wife—no longer young, yet still gentle and elegant—had gently pressed her forehead against his, making him promise to return safely.
He thought of his disappointing daughter, who had twice rejected the promising young men he had carefully chosen for her. It would have been fine if she had found a more outstanding lover, but instead, she had her eyes set on those idle opera actors, spending all the allowance he gave her on gifts to court those frail performers.
He thought of his son, currently serving as an attendant to the Baron; the boy's shoulders were not yet broad enough to bear the heavy burden of supporting the family once he was gone.
