They left the clang of steel behind as they passed through an arch wrapped in ivy. The sound of steel clashing against steel faded, replaced by the quiet rustling of leaves and bird chirps.
The walked for a while, then the path opened into a secluded garden, an open courtyard centred around an old stone clock tower.
Vines crawled up its weathered walls, and a fountain trickled lazily beneath it. Flowers were in careful bloom along the edges, from pale blue lilies to deep crimson roses.
Edward slowed to a halt.
This place... felt different. Calmer.
It was untouched by the pulling tension of the mansion or the rigid, intense discipline of the knights he had just witnessed.
"This area is usually quiet." Calen said. "I thought it may help."
Edward glanced up at him, not really sure where that had come from. And for once, the knight captain didn't look like he was made of stone, hit expression looked a little softer, almost human.
"Do I look that miserable." The words left his mouth before he could stop himself.
"Yes."
Edward coughed.
"You weren't supposed to agree so quick."
Calen didn't say anything, rather just gave him a meaningful look.
They moved closer to the fountain, the sunshine mingling with the comfortable silence that hung in between them.
Maybe it was the silence, Edward felt a little on the edge.
Maybe it was the insidious way that the silence left room for his thoughts to grow out of proportions, he felt like he was going to be eaten alive.
He let out a sigh and gazed into the water, and at the reflection that stared back at him from it.
His visage had vibrant blue eyes, like two shiny pearls outshining even the brightest of brilliance. His beautiful blond hair was neatly tied behind his backs, and his clothes fitted him perfectly, complimenting each every aspect of what made him, him.
It really was such a stark contrast who he had been just two days ago.
Slowly, a thought formed, wrapping its elegant hand around his neck like a threat.
You... He used to work hard. Edward had a proper life here.
And now it was all his. A life that he hadn't lived, effort he hadn't made, and a name that didn't suit him.
"Did... I come here often?"
Calen gave him a slow, tender nod. "I heard you always used to spend your time here."
"Why?"
Calen didn't answer immediately. Instead he walked to the fountain and rested a hand along its pristine edge. Letting the silence hang for a long moment before he spoke.
"People are rarely at ease when they're being watched. Maybe it's the lack of expectations, and the peering gazes, its... peaceful here."
He said it without looking at Edward, but he knew. This wasn't just about him. It applied to Calen too, and others who was in a position to lead like him.
Maybe Calen came here too, often.
Edward watched him.
"You're not good at talking to people, are you?"
Calen turned to him, expression flat. "That is inaccurate, I speak as necessary."
"That's not the same thing..."
"It's efficient."
"It's more depressing."
Calen looked like he was considering whether or not to take offense to that.
Edward let out a low chuckle, then sat on the stone edge of the fountain and exhaled.
"I don't get it."
"Pardon?"
"Aren't you supposed to think I'm a nuisance? Everyone else does."
Calen blinked. "Who?"
"Everyone." Edward glanced back at him. "The maid looks like she's done with me. Armand might be teacher, but he looks like he's more interested in dissecting. And the mage... I don't want to think about that. And finally, my father..."
He buried his face in his hands.
"What am I even supposed to do..."
Calen considered him for a long moment, expression unreadable.
"I don't hate you."
Edward looked up.
Calen continued simply, "You are somewhat... different from what I imagined. But I do not hate you."
Something tugged sharply in Edward's chest.
He didn't know what to say to that.
So instead, he looked down at the rippling water in the fountain.
And quietly, painfully, he thought—
I'm not him.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Water dripped rhythmically from the stone basin of the fountain. A soft breeze flew through the lush garden, stirring the veins that climbed the tower walls. If not for the constricting feeling in his chest, Edward wouldn't have minded calling this place nice.
"If you are tired," Calen said at last. "We can return, you've had a long day."
Edward shook his head without looking up.
"No. It's not that."
Calen waited, like there was more that had to be said.
Edward didn't know why, but the words slipped out before he could stop them.
"I feel like... I don't belong here. Like I'm pretending to be someone I am not."
The admission hung in the air between them. Raw, fragile, almost like it was something that had to handled with utmost tenderness.
Edward felt a little uneasy.
But still, it was not like Calen would understand how literal that sentence was.
Calen lowed his gaze, looking directly into Edward. His eyes held something fierce, but something that was soft at the same time.
"Memories or not. You are still yourself."
Edward gave him a sombre smile. "That's the problem."
Calen tilted his head.
"Explain."
"I can't."
Edward pulled his legs up on the fountain's edge, wrapping his arms loosely around his knees. If he spoke too much, he risked exposing everything, and who knew what would happen to him if people got to know. And If he spoke too little, he felt like drown in it. In his own misery.
"I just… feel like I don't belong here. Or anywhere."
Calen didn't respond immediately. When he did speak, it wasn't what Edward expected.
"You are not the only one who has ever felt that way."
Edward blinked and lifted his head. Calen wasn't looking at him anymore, his gaze had drifted to the old stone path beneath their feet, his voice low.
"When I first came to Myrvale, I was… unwelcome."
His jaw tightened slightly, just enough for Edward to notice.
"I did not belong here either. I was only a ward at the time—taken in out of duty, not kindness. Many believed I had no right to be here."
Edward stared. He hadn't expected Calen to say anything personal, much less something like that.
"So what did you do?"
"I stayed."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"That's just suffering."
Calen looked like he was holding back a smile.
"Perhaps. But suffering builds resilience."
Edward sighed.
"Or trauma."
Calen didn't deny that.
He shifted to stand straighter. "Whether you believe it or not, this is still your home. It will not reject you—unless you reject it first."
Edward stared at him for a long moment.
He didn't exactly agree, at least not yet. But something in those words stuck to him, resonating deep within his troubled heart.
Before he could reply, footsteps approached from the path behind them.
"Young master Edward! Captain Calen!"
A knight came jogging up the stone steps, saluting quickly. His expression was serious.
Edward froze.
Verdigris.
That was the family of the girl the original Edward had run away with, wasn't it?
Calen's expression sharpened. "Deliver it."
The knight glanced briefly at Edward, then back to Calen. "It is… sensitive in nature, sir."
Calen looked at Edward.
Edward met his eyes.
"I want to know," Edward said.
Calen held his gaze for a long beat.
Then, finally—he nodded once.
"Speak."