Kallian stared blankly at the thick bandages wrapped neatly around his wounds.
I spoke to him in a calm, detached voice.
"I've only given you emergency treatment. You should go to a proper hospital in the city to get real care."
"…Thank you."
The way he thanked me felt strange.
The mighty Kallian, who once despised everything Heister, is thanking me so easily?
That was when it truly sank in—he really had lost his memory.
But memory loss or not, I couldn't just keep him here indefinitely.
"This is as much as I can do for you. So please, leave this place as soon as you can."
At that, Kallian looked straight at me.
Then he seemed to realize his rudeness and hurriedly tried to stand.
"I'm sorry. I've already imposed too long. You've done more than enough."
As he moved to get up, his hand suddenly clutched his side, and he groaned in pain.
"Ugh…!"
He must have reopened one of his wounds by moving too quickly.
When I had checked his body while treating him, I'd found dozens of injuries—cuts, bruises, and scars.
At first, I had been speechless by how many there were.
Three of them were deep enough that a normal man would have died—one on his side, one on his thigh, and one on his shoulder.
Each wound was so severe that bone was visible. Even though I had done my best to treat them, recovery would take a long time.
But no matter how injured he was, I couldn't let him stay here long—not when I had no idea when his memories might return.
He was like a ticking time bomb.
While I was thinking that, Kallian slowly straightened up again and looked at me.
Sweat dripped down his pale face; he was clearly in agony.
I turned away so I wouldn't soften, but then he spoke in a weak, pleading voice.
"Madam… I know this is shameless of me… but could I stay here just until I can move properly again? I will repay you, I promise."
His voice, careful and guilty, made my heart waver.
But I had run all the way here to escape him. How could I live with him now, even if he didn't remember me?
It was absurd. I had to stay firm and make him leave.
I hardened my resolve, ready to refuse—
But just then, Denian ran over, his eyes watery, clutching at my leg.
"Mommy, Mister looks so sick. He's so pitiful."
"…."
If he hadn't spoken, maybe I could've stayed cold.
But hearing that soft, lisping voice, seeing his teary eyes—how could I possibly throw Kallian out?
Kallian, meanwhile, watched Denian with gentle eyes, looking genuinely touched.
That somehow made me even more uncomfortable.
I could only let out a long sigh.
A week after Kallian went missing, Valdormer was thrown into chaos.
A missing heir during wartime was as good as a death sentence.
There were even witnesses who claimed they saw Kallian get shot in the chest with an arrow and fall from a cliff.
Falling from such a height alone would've been fatal, and with a chest wound like that, survival seemed impossible.
Inside the council chamber, the lords of Valdormer argued fiercely over the future of the war.
Lord Felix of House Highland spoke first.
"With Lord Kallian missing, I believe continuing this war against Heister is impossible."
Most of the lords murmured in quiet agreement, but the hardliners immediately objected.
"If we end the war like this, Heister will surely demand reparations!"
"Exactly! We have to finish this war in victory so they can't even think of that!"
"And how do you expect to do that without Lord Kallian?"
As the moderates and hardliners clashed, Felix slammed the table and rose to his feet.
He looked around at the gathered lords, then fixed his gaze on Darkin, the head of House Valdormer, sitting at the highest seat.
"It's best to admit temporary defeat to Heister now and prepare for the future."
Felix's true goal had always been to weaken Valdormer's power. With Kallian—the heir—gone, there was no reason to drag this war out.
Though the conflict had also reduced Highland's strength, he planned to restore it later with help from the Imperial court.
"What do you think, my lord?" Felix asked confidently.
Darkin, a conservative who had never wanted the war in the first place, remained silent for a long while.
Felix expected him to agree easily.
But when Darkin finally spoke, his voice was low and heavy.
"Lord Highland, you speak as if Kallian will never return."
Felix faltered.
"T-that's not what I meant. I only suggest we end the war for now and focus our efforts on finding him."
Darkin stared at Felix for a long moment, then said firmly,
"We'll wait two more weeks. If there's still no word of him, then we'll discuss peace with Heister."
With that, Darkin stood and left the chamber, making it clear he would hear no more arguments.
Felix's face twisted in frustration as he clenched his fists.
"Denian! You shouldn't do that to an injured person!"
I nearly screamed when I saw Denian hanging from Kallian's shoulder.
But Kallian just smiled and said calmly, "It's alright. This shoulder is fine."
"…."
The way he smiled so gently only made my feelings more tangled.
Denian, thinking of him as just a kind, injured stranger—
And Kallian, treating his own son with warmth, not knowing who he was—
It was too much.
I had tried several times to separate them, but Denian was stubborn—just like his father.
Eventually, I gave up, exhausted.
Tomorrow, when I go to the castle, I'll leave Denian behind. That's safer.
Just as I was thinking that, Kallian spoke.
"The boy's name is Denian, right?"
He must have heard me call him earlier.
I froze, feeling a chill crawl up my spine.
Unaware of my tension, he gently patted Denian's head and murmured,
"'Little angel'… what a beautiful name."
My head snapped toward him.
Did I ever tell him what Denian's name meant?
No—I hadn't.
But… maybe he had known already?
Still, I remembered clearly—when I told him the meaning in our past life, he'd looked surprised, as if hearing it for the first time.
Before I could think further, Kallian frowned and clutched his head again, clearly struck by another headache.
Denian tilted his head in worry.
"Mister, does your head hurt?"
Kallian forced a faint smile. "It's alright. It'll pass soon."
Watching them, I finally asked carefully,
"Do you really not remember anything at all?"
I couldn't help it—I needed to know if he remembered me.
Kallian looked up at me, smiling faintly now that the pain had eased.
"I only remember falling from a cliff during a battle… and that the war was very important to me."
Even without his memory, the one thing he remembers is war…
How deep must his hatred for Heister run?
The thought stung, reminding me how deeply Heister—and therefore I—had scarred him.
Then Denian, who had been listening intently, puffed his cheeks and said firmly,
"War is bad!"
At the child's bold declaration, a small smile appeared on Kallian's lips.
"Yes, you're right. War is bad."
"War made Mister hurt, right?" Denian said solemnly.
Kallian chuckled softly and patted his head. "You're a wise child. I'm sure your father must be very proud."
His casual words froze me in place.
Unaware, Kallian continued, "By the way, where is his father?"
"…."
I couldn't speak.
Then Denian answered for me, with innocent honesty.
"Denian doesn't have a daddy."
Realizing his mistake, Kallian looked apologetic.
"Oh… I see. That was rude of me. I'm sorry."
"It's fine," I said, forcing my voice steady.
But it wasn't fine.
It could never be fine.
Denian—looking at his father, not knowing it was him.
And Kallian—sitting there, unaware he was talking to his wife and child.
The weight of it all pressed down on me again, twisting my heart painfully.