Chapter 117

Christine carefully held onto Maxime’s sleeve as they stood in front of the orphanage. The field of dandelions, preparing for winter, had turned a golden yellow, as if they were falling asleep. Smoke rose from the chimney in the distance, and Christine gazed at the familiar scene with a nostalgic expression. A gentle breeze played with her golden hair, making it flutter lightly.

“In winter, sitting by the fireplace and listening to the stories the headmistress read to us was the best,” Christine said with a soft smile.

“We’d all wrap ourselves in old blankets and listen, slowly nodding off because the fire was so warm. The headmistress never scolded us for falling asleep; she’d just quietly carry us one by one to bed when we did.”

Maxime watched her expression. Christine always looked like this when she spoke of the orphanage from her childhood, that warm, distant look in her eyes.

“You had a really kind headmistress, didn’t you?” Maxime said.

Christine nodded, her smile deepening. “Yes, she was the best.”

The wind grew colder, and Maxime noticed Christine pulling her coat tighter. He turned to her, his voice concerned.

“Aren’t you going inside?”

“I’ll just say hello and leave quickly.”

As Christine took a step toward the orphanage, the front gate opened. The headmistress, a nun, appeared, and upon seeing Christine, her face lit up. Maxime, seeing Christine hesitate for a moment, gave her a gentle nudge forward, offering a faint smile.

“Christine!”

“Mother!”

The headmistress embraced Christine warmly, paying no mind to her hesitant approach. Christine’s stiff posture melted into the hug, and she returned the gesture.

“It’s been so long. You said you wouldn’t be able to visit before the year was out.”

Christine had indeed said that the last time she visited with Maxime, just before the battle in the wilderness. Recalling those words, Christine gave a wry smile, knowing she couldn’t tell the headmistress everything that had happened since then. Once they parted from the embrace, Christine finally smiled as she usually did.

“I found some time after all. Have you been well?”

“Yes, of course. The children are all healthy too. But, who’s that behind you…?”

The headmistress’s gaze turned toward Maxime. Christine suddenly remembered how different Maxime’s appearance was now and made a face, mentally kicking herself for not explaining things sooner. She glanced at Maxime with a look that said, Help me come up with something! but the headmistress had already formed her conclusion. Tilting her head, she asked Christine quietly.

“Did you and Maxime part ways?”

Christine and Maxime both froze, their expressions twisting in embarrassment. Christine quickly waved her hands, trying to clarify the situation, her fingers pointing at Maxime as she stammered.

“No, it’s not like that….”

“Not like that?”

“We work together! Maxime had something to take care of, so he couldn’t come today. And, um, just so you know, we weren’t ever, like, together! I just brought him here a few times, that’s all.”

Christine was sweating, but the headmistress, sighing softly, only smiled with understanding.

“Maxime is a good man, Christine. I was hoping things would work out between you two. You seemed so well-suited for each other.”

Christine felt her heart skip a beat at the words, even though she wanted to deny it, to shout We never dated! inside. Yet, another part of her whispered, Do you really need to deny it that strongly? The compliment made her blush, and she bit her lip. The headmistress noticed the flush in Christine’s cheeks and gave a knowing smile.

“…Anyway, this is Arsen Bern,” Christine finally managed to say. “He’s a senior from work. Mother, this is the headmistress from the orphanage I grew up in.”

It was strange to introduce someone she already knew in a new way, but Maxime gave a polite nod, maintaining his reserved demeanor as he greeted the headmistress.

“I’m Arsen Bern. Christine has told me a lot about this place.”

The headmistress smiled warmly at Maxime, while Christine stood by with an awkward, unreadable expression, perhaps mirroring Maxime’s own.

“It’s cold out here. Why don’t you come inside?” The headmistress gestured toward the orphanage, the wind stirring the dormant grass of the field. Maxime nodded stiffly, and Christine quietly let out a sigh of relief.

“My senior is recovering from an injury, so we won’t stay long. Just a brief visit,” Christine explained.

The headmistress’s gaze flicked to Maxime’s crutches, and she made a soft exclamation of surprise.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I was so excited to see Christine, I didn’t even notice. Would you like some help?”

Maxime gave her a pained smile, shaking his head.

“I’m fine. It’s not as bad as it looks. You two can take your time chatting.”

Christine raised her eyebrow in disbelief at Maxime’s usual act of downplaying his injuries.

“There he goes again, pretending he’s fine. Mother, don’t pay any attention to him. He always says that, but trust me, he’s not.”

“What should I say then? I’m not fine, so you better finish your chat quickly?”@@novelbin@@

The headmistress chuckled at their banter, her eyes widening with surprise before softening into laughter.

“Why don’t we all have a cup of tea and warm up for a bit?”

==

While Christine and the headmistress caught up, Maxime sat in the room, holding a cup of tea and closing his eyes as he relaxed by the crackling fireplace. The warmth of the flames filled the room, and the soft sound of the fire popping soothed his senses. However, he soon felt a few curious gazes directed his way.

Hmm?

Maxime opened his eyes and looked toward the hallway, where he caught sight of small shadows darting behind a wall. When he averted his gaze, the eyes returned. Smiling faintly at the children’s cautious yet curious behavior, Maxime decided to wait for their next move.

It didn’t take long. After a few rounds of peeking and hiding, he heard the children bickering quietly, and then one of them finally stepped out from behind the wall. It was two girls and two boys, children Maxime had met on previous visits to the orphanage. They approached him shyly, standing in a huddled group as they greeted him.

“H-Hello.”

Their voices were small, as if they were holding back a bit of fear. Maxime wondered if his current appearance was intimidating, but he softened his expression, realizing they might be unnerved by Arsen’s hardened features.

“…Sorry about that,” Maxime apologized, smoothing his expression further. The children seemed to relax slightly and gathered around him, still a bit tentative.

“Um, who are you?” one of the boys asked, summoning up his courage. The others turned their wide eyes toward him, waiting for an answer. Maxime cleared his throat, trying not to feel too awkward as he replied.

“I’m a friend of Christine’s.”

“Do you know where Maxime is?”

Ah, they were looking for me, Maxime thought, finding the idea somewhat amusing. He suppressed a smile and answered in a calm, composed voice.

“Maxime couldn’t come today because he had something important to do. So, I came in his place.”

The children’s faces fell, concern clouding their eyes. They seemed to genuinely miss him.

“So, he’s not coming back?”

Maxime’s chest tightened a little as he saw their disappointed expressions. He smiled, feeling a quiet warmth in their affection.

“No, he’ll be back next time. I’m just here for today.”

The children’s moods lifted visibly, and they nodded, reassured. Then, with the first question out of the way, they began firing more rapid questions at him, all at once.

“What’s your name?”

“Are you really friends with Christine?”

“Is Christine going to marry Maxime?”

Maxime found himself breaking into a cold sweat as the questions poured in, most of them nearly impossible to answer. He focused on maintaining a composed face, while carefully replying to each question.

Meanwhile, in the small chapel next door, Christine leaned back against one of the pews, gazing up at the intricate carvings of the saints illuminated by the soft light filtering through the stained glass. The muffled sounds of children’s chatter hinted at Maxime’s growing struggle with their endless questions. She smiled, knowing exactly how flustered he must be.

“You look different since the last time I saw you, Christine.”

The headmistress sat beside Christine, her voice gentle. Christine nodded in agreement, her gaze still lingering on the peaceful scene.

“A lot has happened since the last time I was here.”

The headmistress nodded in understanding, her eyes following Christine’s to the carved figures in the chapel.

“It’s been a long time.”

The headmistress remained silent for a moment, her gaze softening as she looked at Christine.

“Before today, your expression wasn’t any different from that winter when you came to me, lost and burdened.”

Christine recalled the cold winter night when she had rushed to the headmistress with gold bars in hand, overwhelmed by guilt and self-loathing, desperate for redemption. Now, the headmistress noticed the subtle change in Christine’s green eyes, the calm that had replaced the turmoil.

“You’re not wandering anymore, are you?”

“Maybe.”

Christine pressed a hand to her chest, remembering the sensation of a traitor’s blade piercing her, and how she had seen Maxime’s face just after. She remembered pouring mana into him, despite his pleas for her not to care about what she had done. They had both bared their hearts to each other then.

“I’m just moving forward without thinking too much.”

“Everyone needs a guide, Christine. For me, it’s faith. It looks to me like you’ve found something to guide you as well.”

“I wanted to be the one guiding him,” Christine said quietly, a bittersweet smile on her lips as she glanced toward the room where Maxime was surrounded by children. The sound of their playful chatter reached them even in the chapel.

“Sometimes, you also need someone to walk the path with you,” the headmistress said, smiling. Christine returned the smile, her eyes softening with understanding. Yes, all she wanted now was to walk the same path.

No, it was more than that.

“Actually, I want a little more than that.”

The headmistress chuckled at Christine’s candid words. The response was playful, strong, and undeniably full of life. The headmistress looked at her with pride, knowing Christine’s eyes wouldn’t waver anymore.

“A little greed isn’t a bad thing, Christine.”

“Maybe sometimes, it’s okay to want a little more than just a little,” Christine said, standing up with a grin. Her smile was unforced, genuine, and bright—so much so that it erased the traces of the old, guarded expression she once wore.

“I’ll come back again soon. But first, I need to get that idiot senior of mine back to the hospital.”

The headmistress nodded, watching Christine with a look of pure joy and pride, not as a teacher or a religious figure, but as a mother might watch her child growing up and moving forward with confidence.

“When you come next time, bring Maxime along too.”

“…Of course.”

Christine left the chapel and returned to Maxime, who was still surrounded by the children.

“Did you wait long, Senior?”

Maxime, looking somewhat trapped by the children, gave Christine a grateful nod as if she were his savior. She laughed softly and extended her hand to him. As if knowing it was time for Maxime to leave, the children slowly withdrew, waving to him with reluctant smiles. They promised to see him next time, their faces full of hope.

“You’re still popular with the kids, aren’t you?” Christine teased.

“I don’t get it. I’m sure I look more intimidating now, with this face.” Maxime shook his head, unsure whether to complain or feel touched by their affection. Christine looked at his face more closely.

“You don’t look that scary. You just have a sharper look now, that’s all.”

“The kids were scared of me at first,” Maxime grumbled. The day had grown warmer compared to when they visited Adeline, and a gentle air now surrounded them. As Christine looked up at the sky, something cold touched her nose. She blinked in surprise.

“Oh, it’s snowing.”

Maxime followed her gaze upward. Snowflakes began to drift down slowly from the overcast sky. It was the first snow, the kind that had been predicted by the morning's gray clouds.

“The first snow.”

Maxime held out his hand, watching a small snowflake land on his palm before it quickly melted. He clenched and unclenched his hand, staring at the sky where the snow fell gently over the capital.

“Isn’t this the first snow?” Christine asked.

Maxime nodded slowly. “Yeah, it is.”

The first snowfall had come late this year. It should have arrived by the end of November, but now, in the early days of December, the world was finally beginning to turn white. Soon, the snow would coat the streets, the frozen lakes, and the fir trees, transforming the city into a winter wonderland.

Maxime looked down at Christine, and she was looking back at him. Her gaze was different from usual—there was no teasing or humor in her eyes, only something deeper, more unfamiliar.

“Senior,” she said softly, her voice pulling him from his thoughts. He nodded.

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember what I said when you held me after I got stabbed in the wastelands?”

‘I like you.’

Maxime hadn’t forgotten. He remembered every word that had left her lips that day.

“I thought we were supposed to forget about that,” Maxime joked, trying to lighten the mood. Christine's voice took on a slightly wounded tone as she replied.

“I never said that. I still remember it clearly.”

Snow began to gather on Christine’s coat, and she looked straight into Maxime’s dark eyes with a seriousness that startled him.

“Did you forget?”

Maxime shook his head slowly, meeting her gaze.

“How could I forget?”

Christine’s face brightened with a smile, and before Maxime could react, he found her arms wrapping around his neck. He barely had time to register what was happening before her lips pressed softly against his.

Christine’s kiss was warm. It took Maxime a few seconds to fully realize what was happening, the heat and softness of her lips catching him off guard. The kiss was sweet, gentle, and filled with a tenderness that spread through him, slowly melting the cold he hadn’t known he was holding inside. He couldn’t move—he didn’t push her away, nor did he respond. He simply closed his eyes and let the moment wash over him.

The soft sound of snow falling surrounded them, marking the moment in Maxime’s mind.

When Christine finally pulled back, time seemed to have stretched impossibly long and short at once. She didn’t dwell on what she had done, her eyes meeting Maxime’s with a quiet determination.

“I wish I hadn’t done it while you looked like this,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. Maxime, still at a loss for words, could only stare back at her.

“You know what I meant earlier, when I said I couldn’t give up?”

Maxime slowly nodded. He hadn’t expected her to be this bold or this straightforward.

“I’m just letting you know how I feel. You don’t need to respond.”

The snow continued to fall, wrapping them both in its quiet beauty. Christine’s smile was radiant beneath the first snowflakes of winter.

“I’ll make sure you never forget what I said today, or this moment.”

Her words sounded like a magician’s spell, a declaration from a sorceress, and Maxime, standing under the first snowfall, could only gaze at her in awe. Snowflakes began to settle on their heads and shoulders, softly blanketing them in white.