As I rushed to the hall, a familiar, irksome sensation was fixed behind me. The intention was obviously malicious, as it followed my movements, and I knew who owned it. I ignored it. I went on my way, cautious of what they were planning against me.
By the time I reached the Special Elite floor, I was not surprised to see Almira weak and sitting by the doorframe of Gilmesh's office. She was sitting still, thinking about how to enter the room without collapsing, until she felt my presence.
"You're late," Almira smirked but didn't look at me.
"I know," I said as I leaned on the doorframe, watching her. Then I asked worriedly, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, but Grandpa isn't letting me inside. It's frustrating." Almira sounded like a pouting child who had been punished.
I chuckled as I helped her up. Then I repeated what her grandfather told me when she lost her consciousness. "Well, he did mention that you shouldn't try so hard when you're already a knight."
"I know, but I'm top of my class, and he's not letting me top his." She still whined, pouting, and it was cute.
I chuckled more before teasing, "I think it runs in your family."
"ARGH!" She groaned grumpily. I laughed at her as she pouted, making her cheeks look like dumplings. "I hate that you're right." Her voice calmed down, but her expression was still annoyed until she smelled something on me. "By the way, why are you—you smell different?"
I tilted my head to the side, recalling what my instructor told me. I shrugged my shoulders. "Lunaria said so."
She studied me, checking me from head to toe. "Hm, you do not smell weak or dying…" Her assessment sounded offensive, making me glare at her. She chuckled a little before adding, "You're more alive and ready to kick somebody's ass if allowed."
"That's a nice way to describe it." I chuckled, agreeing with her before saying, "They said I'm a gamma now."
"Hm, well, you can. I faced it before." She winked at me, giving assurance. I smiled because she acknowledged me, except for the presence walking toward us.
Gilmesh's cold and raspy voice called my name. "Bernila."
"Old man," I greeted him back, making Almira look between us.
"Why are you here?" he asked, ignoring his granddaughter's confusion over the familiarity between us.
I should feel intimidated by his overwhelming power coming from the spirits around him, but I didn't. I stood up straight, following his steps inside his office, dragging Almira on my side, and I said, "I want to try your teaching."
My voice was stern and convincing, but not to the old man. Instead, he denied me again. "There's nothing to teach."
'Be patient with him like you are with me.'
My heart flipped when I heard my wife's amused voice in my head. I sighed before responding to her, "If you put it that way, then I could be a nuisance."
'He won't take it seriously, but if you want him to teach you as a special elite rank, then you'd better think outside the box. Break what he's doing. You only need to make him waver because the rest will follow.'
Her voice was like stating an experience. Then I asked to clarify it. "Is it based on experience?"
'What do you think? Good luck, baby.'
I sighed as soon as our private telepathic message went off and focused on the busy old man at his desk. I could see what Mirxalyn meant. He was quiet and stoic like her, but more importantly, he was carrying something different than my wife. It was not the pressure of being the leader of an empire, but something that goes beyond what the eyes could see.
I looked around his office, navigating not the structure but the weight of the spirits around him. They were powerful beings that could affect anyone around them, which included their family. Almira slouched on the couch, looking tired. It was not about his grandfather's presence but the spirits around her.
"You said there's nothing to teach…" I broke the silence, staring at Almira's surroundings—the spirits looked back at me, confused like Almira. But I ignored it; I didn't back down. I sighed and stood confidently before asking curiously, "Then tell me, Old Man, why won't you give me an assessment before rejecting me?"
"As I said, you're not ready," he answered nonchalantly, not looking at me.
"I see…" I muttered, nodding, but the spirits around Almira left her side and quietened down. Their stillness made a slight twitch on Gilmesh's fingers. "Am I?" I asked, leaning on his desk. In a second, as my hand touched his desk, my Sigbin's malice came out like a freezing air spreading over his desk. Gilmesh paused, wary, before glancing at me. With a soft but menacing voice, I continued asking, "…or is it you that isn't ready for what I'm becoming?"
The old man and I stared at each other, and for a second, a fleeting second, there it was. The crack that my wife had mentioned. Gilmesh wanted to refute. I felt it. But he clenched his jaw and quickly recovered to his stoic facade.
He cleared his throat and rejected me again. "Leave, you're still not ready. And bring Almira out with you."
"Grandpa!" Almira whined, but he made his decision and waved his hand at us dismissively.
I stared at him, scrutinizing, before saying, "This is not over until I say so, Old Man." I moved out, but I stopped by the door, making Almira look questioningly at me before I glanced over my shoulder. Then I decided, "You'll see it, and once you learn its truth, I won't be caring about anything in this school anymore." His desk split in half, making him stand up from his chair, looking at me in disbelief. "Just like that."
Feeling nonchalantly confident, I waltzed down the hall with Almira. I was convinced that my wife was right, and I could annoy Gilmesh in the process. But hearing Almira's amused giggles, I was snapped back to reality.
"Now, I'm convinced. She's definitely rubbing on you," she answered. I paused, trying to digest what she said. "You threatened my grandfather."
I was about to argue, but recalling what I had said earlier, I instantly blushed. I felt embarrassed, but thinking about my wife's advice and Almira's restlessness earlier, a smile crept at the corner of my lips. "Well, the spirits around him are the pressure, and…" I walked straight, then I flipped my hair, saying smugly, "…and if my wife's personality rubs off on me, then it means I'll grow stronger."
"You bet you do." She giggled, ending my day at school earlier than expected.
***
Back at the manor early, I had a wonderful time doing my usual routine around until I found myself stumbling at the music hall. It was used but well-maintained. The room was filled with instruments visibly preserved behind glass cabinets. I decided to check the acoustic guitar, and it was still in good shape.
"Let's play something," I mumbled, grinning as I sat by the window nook.
At first, my hand strummed the guitar randomly. Every strum was like finding the right notes, a song to play, until I found it.
"Take it
If she gives you her heart, don't you break it
Let your arms be a place she feels safe in.
She's the best thing that you'll ever have.
She'll love you if you love her…"
I sang the song I learned to love after staying here. The song is called "If You Love Her" by Forest Blakk and Meghan Trainor. It stirred the old wounds from yesterday, but being here with the Knightrose, all of it became bearable.
"On days when
It feels like the whole world might cave in.
Stand side by side, and you'll make it
She's the best thing that you'll ever have.
She'll love you if you love her like that…"
I might be crying from the old wounds while singing the song, but I knew something had shifted in me, a good shift that I prayed not to lose anymore.
"He wakes me each morning by kissin' my cheeks.
And when I look a mess, he says, "You're perfect to me."
He's more than my best friend, forever and then some.
And I choose him over and over again…"
I started remembering everything I went through from the past until the second stanza took place. I began recalling how I met Mirxalyn, when we got married, being annoyed with her, meeting halfway, compromising through talks, and although we were still carrying secrets from our past, we chose to love each other.
I stopped playing the guitar and let the tears fall. They were happy tears. But they were wiped by my wife as soon as she found me here.
"You're crying." Her voice was soft and gentle, and I leaned on her touch. Then she softly said, "I'm here."
I shook my head, wiping my own tears before meeting her eyes, smiling. "I love you," I confessed out of the blue, and Mirxalyn was gone. She was stunned for a few seconds before smiling softly at me. Then I continued, "Remember my scars…I know I'm still not ready to tell you entirely about them, but you chose to stay, and I'm very grateful for that." She was about to say something, but I didn't let her. "I'll tell you about the first two scars on my side and my back. They used a horsewhip and a cutter soaked with silver whenever I wouldn't cooperate. They kept repeating it on the same spot until it no longer healed."
I watched her jaw tighten, chest rising and falling hard as she controlled herself from breaking things around the room. She closed her eyes before asking with gritted teeth, "And you're telling me this because?"
"They're at school," I answered nonchalantly.
I jolted when Mirxalyna snapped, shouting, "WHAT?!"
"Mirxalyn, stop. I mean it." I quickly grabbed her hands and pulled her closer. Her wild eyes immediately softened as if I had tamed a beast. "Listen to me first." I sighed, smiling gently before warning her. "I tell you because whatever they try to do against me, don't do anything without my consent."
She looked away, frowning, before facing me again, asking, "And why is that?"
"Let me face my demons," I answered firmly. I reached her face, caressing it gently before asking, "Can you do that for me, honey? Let me face them first, and if I can't hold it together, I'll seek your help."
"But?" she asked, knowing there was more.
"But for now, let me take it. Let me stand against my storm," I continued gently. Mirxalyn looked hurt and troubled, making me lean my forehead against hers. Then I said softly, "Don't give me that look. Just be there; stay with me as I face them."
She took a minute before agreeing to my request. "Fine, but whether it goes wrong or not, I'll end them before you know it."
"And you will," I chuckled, agreeing as if it were a business deal before adding, "…so train me as you promise?"
Mirxalyn's sly smirk didn't reach her eyes, and I understood why. Then she said jokingly, "You gave me a reason to be hard on you."
I stood up, giggling. "Oh, please, where's the fun if you won't take me seriously?" I said, winking at her as I pulled her arms, excited to train like I was five. "C'mon, let's train."
***
Think of me, think of me fondly.
When we've said goodbye
Remember me, once in a while.
Please, promise me you'll try.
The song "Think of Me" from the soundtrack of The Phantom of the Opera filled the training ground with love and serenity. But it didn't cover the loud clattering sound, breaking the silence of the night in the Knightrose household. The heat clashed, vibrating throughout the training ground. Sweat was forgotten, and every deflected weapon left cracks on the ground. The thick dust swirled as a mad tornado around two bodies—our bodies, for the first time, collided with intensity.
When you find that once again you long
To take your heart back and be free
If you ever find a moment
Spare a thought for me.
"AGAIN!" Mirxalyn's firm voice echoed through the hall with coldness, irking my ears with adrenaline.
"She wasn't joking when she said she'd be hard on me," I mumbled under my breath.