Chapter 9: Truth

Soft hushes of footsteps closed in on the chill of night, stirring the gentle mare who knew the sound of her master. She lifted her head, hooves shifting softly against the straw, and stood by the barn door, waiting behind the wooden gate. The horizon was untouched by light, too early for many to start their day, but not for her master.

The person she waited for finally appeared. A hand reached for her cheek, warm and familiar. With a gentle caress, her master greeted her.

“Good morning, Shuen.” The mare answered with a soft nudge.

“I’m sorry for coming so early again,” Reina murmured.

As if accepting the apology, the gentle mare lowered her head and rested it against her master’s narrow shoulder. The soft brown fur brushed Reina’s neck like a warm blanket, a gentle smile painted on her lips.

“Thank you for lending me your strength, Shuen,” she whispered.

Reina guided her horse toward the barn’s exit. With practiced hands, she settled the saddle onto Shuen’s back, movements quiet and practiced. As she tightened the girth around the mare’s torso, the sound of approaching footsteps reached her ears.

She let out a small, exasperated smile before turning to the young man who now stood a short distance away.

“It’s impossible to escape your surveillance, Kei,” she said lightly.

“I apologize, Your Majesty,” Kei replied, bowing deeply. His voice was calm, as befitted the shield of the monarch.

By the entrance, her right hand and shield, Kei was standing tall by the barn door. He wore a matching western riding outfit like Reina, as if he had known the young queen’s secret endeavor.

Reina understood her role as a queen. A life watched by countless eyes, guarded by many hands, bound by duty and expectation. Thus, she knew where to draw her line.

“It’s all right, Kei,” she said gently. “I promised I wouldn’t make anyone worry.”

She checked the saddle once more, then led Shuen out into the cold morning air.

In Seiryan customs, riding a horse astride was never meant for noble women. And so, on the day Reina expressed her wish to ride a horse instead of sitting inside a carriage during her succession parade, the palace officials had erupted in outrage. It was only through Soren’s insistence that she had been allowed to ride in public at all and even then, under scrutiny.

At times like that, a thought would cross her mind…

No wonder that man once thought we were a backward society.

The dark blue of the sky greeted her beyond the barn, the moon still hanging high and watchful. Moments later, Kei emerged leading another dark horse and stood within safe distance to Reina.

Under a veil of frost, she rode through the night to greet the first light.

She closed her eyes as her beautiful mare cantered across the empty plain, letting the breeze brush her face like the gentle caress of a lover. She inhaled the frost into her lungs, savoring the moment, the silence, the ache, the slight sting in her chest as the cold air filled her breath.

In moments like this, she became one with time. Her narrow shoulders stood tall, her face lifted to the sky. A quiet smile tugged at her lips.

The queen was no more.

She was only a speck of starlight in a vast night sky, a remnant of the past.

And the memory of the man who once taught her the meaning of this moment, flowed gently, like a spring breeze.

*****

A knock echoed through the drawing room in the quiet of the morning. Johannes shifted his gaze toward the door, already anticipating Celeste’s arrival. The door finally opened, revealing Mary, who stood with a slight bow.

“Young master, Lady Celeste is ready.”

Behind Mary, was Celeste, dressed in brown riding clothes. The long trousers traced the curve of her legs, her head lowered to the ground, hair fully braided. An annoyed expression were visible on her pale face, though her rosy cheeks betrayed the defiance she tried to maintain. A smile formed instantly on Johannes’s lips, satisfaction filling his lungs.

“Let’s go,” he said, rising from the sofa and moving toward the front door.

Yet Celeste did not move from her spot. The young woman stood still, her hands tightly clasped.

Sensing his patience thinning, Johannes stopped just before the door and glanced back.
“I thought you’d been nagging about this outing for weeks now?”

Celeste finally lifted her head and met his gaze.
“Where are we going?”
“Outside, as per the lady’s request.”
“Does it have to be in these clothes?” Her eyes dropped back to the floor.

Only then did Johannes register what she was trying to say through her awkward posture. The realization nearly drew a scoff from him.

In Falkenreich, women riding astride had become the norm since the fall of the monarch, rendering side-saddles and riding skirts obsolete. But change did not happened that fast, especially not in a secluded nation shaped by their rigid patriarchal order like Seirya.

He exhaled slowly and approached her with more patience.
“You’ll need those for our outing.”
“And if you can’t stop sulking,” he added in a teasing tone, “I’ll assume you no longer wish to go?”

He watched as her fingers tightened, the spark of defiance returning to her hazel eyes. The Celeste he knew finally returned.

“There,” he murmured. “That’s the stubborn lady I remember.”

But the riding clothes were not the only surprise awaiting Celeste that fine early dawn.

When Johannes opened the white front door, a chill spring breeze caressed her skin. Beyond him stretched a vast midnight-blue scattered with stars, and at the center of it, a crescent moon resting quietly. The sight stole her breath, and for a moment, she forgot the embarrassment of the unfamiliar fabric clinging too closely to her body.

They crossed the green plain beside the villa and entered a stretch of towering pine trees. The view she had only ever known through a window became her reality. She quickened her steps, struggling to keep pace with the man ahead of her, whose long strides showed no mercy.

Beneath the pines, a red wooden structure emerged. Beside it, stood a fenced field painted in the same deep hue. Johannes lifted the wooden bar and pushed the gate open, the scent of hay rising to greet her. It was a small barn.

Inside, her gaze wandered across the wooden beams and endless stacks of hay, taking in the animals nestled within. The air filled with the soft chirping of hens, the rustle of straw against sleeping sheeps. The senses of life tickled her chest with a hint of joy and warmth.

Lost in her thoughts, Celeste failed to notice the towering presence closing in behind her, until a deep voice pulled her back to reality.

“Enjoying yourself?”

She turned sharply. Johannes stood just behind her, leading a tall, dark horse with the assured ease of a trained soldier. Startled, she gasped and stepped back. His eyes narrowed in quiet amusement.

It finally dawned on her.
“Are we… riding a horse?”
“Yes. unless you’d rather hike through the forest alone,” he replied flatly, moving toward the barn gate.
“But I don’t—”
“I know.” A teasing smile curved his lips. “That’s why you’ll ride with me, my lady.”

No, Celeste was absolutely not prepared for this second surprise.

If there was one thing she acknowledged from her past life, it was that she was no rider. Trepidation tightened her chest like a foreboding. Yet beneath it, an equal measure of curiosity bloomed, like a flower at the peak of spring.

She watched the man whose hair was golden like the sun. She studied the strong hands securing the saddle around the gentle giant and she stepped forward.

Johannes noticed the change in Celeste’s eyes. After giving his mare a final stroke, as if silently asking her to be gentler with the young lady, he took the reins and placed his left boot into the stirrup.

“Her name is Terra,” he said.
“Put your left foot on the stirrup. I’ll lift you.”

Where did the bravery come from? For all she felt was fire instantly igniting within her.

She stepped closer and placed her boot on the cold metal. In the next second, a strong arm circled her waist. Leather brushed against her palm. Another steady hand adjusted her leg.

“That’s not bad for a first mount,” he remarked.
“Now straighten your posture. Sit tall.”

Celeste lifted her chin and straightened her back. She heard a low chuckle but before she could respond, warmth enveloped her from behind, steadying her spine.

And the scent of musk that had once been like a mist at dawn now surrounded her completely, stirring something deep within, carrying fear with it.

Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to this outing.

The man behind her, however, was unbothered. He extended his arm to take the reins, shifted his weight against his calf, and Terra stepped forward.

“It’s a twenty-five-minute ride from here,” he said, his tone rigid as a soldier’s.
“Steady yourself.”

A sharp contrast to the storm he had ignited in the woman seated before him.

Terra cantered beneath a sea of pine trees, the midnight blue of the sky slowly discolored into deep ocean hues. The May morning was cold enough to caress the skin, but not enough to hide the heat burning within her. She shifted her focus on the rhythm of the gallop and the brush of wind against her face.

The scenery transformed as they rode over the hill. Towering trees gave way to low bushes, the breeze growing stronger, the sky opening wide before her painted in deep blue. Ahead stretched a vast plain of soft green, bursts of color she knew would remain etched in her memory for a long time.

“How do you find your first ride?” Johannes asked.

“Isn’t it liberating?” His voice, hushed, blended seamlessly with the wind.

“It’s certainly better than being locked inside a villa.”

His laughter brushed her ear, a sound she had grown familiar with.

“Keep your eyes forward, Celeste.”

She did.

“This,” he said, “is the taste of freedom.”

*****

The moment they arrived at the hill, the deep blue ocean had discolored into a lighter shade. The horizon was greeted with a tint of orange, and equally beautiful, the crescent moon grew larger and more luminescent like a queen who ruled the sky.

Like a child seeing the first light, Celeste did not shift her gaze from the surroundings. She did not even realize when the strong hand around her waist lifted her down from the saddle and led her forward with steady guidance. Beyond the hill stretched a sea of green, small villas scattered at great distances, like miniature toys laid upon the land.

What is the color of freedom?

It was not the soft pastel shades she had known all her life.

It was the deep blue of the ocean, the tint of orange above May-green fields.

A heat stronger than molten fire filled her chest. She tightened the clutch of her hands and met the eyes of the man standing tall beside her. His eyes were calm like the sea and she was the storm.

“Thank you, Johannes,” the storm said to the still ocean.

Should the ocean withdraw?

No.

He allowed the storm to rage within him, feeding him with pride and satisfaction.
And in a moment of bliss, he finally spoke,

“I will teach you how to ride.”

An offer he knew crossed a line.

Yet the woman before him met his gaze, fervent disbelief turning into gratitude, into fear, into hope. He no longer cared the cost he would have to pay. The heavy shadow of sin washed away in that momentary second, like a tinge of light overtaking the night sky.

But the woman shifted her gaze back to the hills. A gentle smile tugged at her lips.

“Sometimes I don’t know how I should think of you,” she said softly.
“If I should trust the soldier who saved me or the one who shielded me from truth.”

And she did not know either if she had the courage to face that truth.

The storm faded into a still, clouded sky.

Celeste withdrew her hand from the warmth around her fingers and stepped forward. She found a patch of green and sat down, her arms wrapped around her knees. The horizon began to blush into pale pink, wild spring flowers swaying gently in the wind.

Yet the ocean reached her with its waves.

Johannes lowered himself beside her and lay back on the soft grass. He slipped his arms behind his head and looked up at the heavenly sky, the moon reigning quietly in the dawn.

“Why does it even matter what you trust?”

It was not a question. It was a challenge.

“Judge me by my actions, Celeste,” he said.
“And be my witness.”

Celeste hugged her knees tighter and turned her gaze to the man lying beside her, a man who was foreign to her.

“That’s easy for you to say,” she murmured, her eyes studying the ocean before her.

But the ocean was now still, no longer reaching. A bitter smile tugged at his thin lips.
And that ached her, for a reason she could not name.

She glanced at the dawn.

“The truth is, I don’t know if I’d have the courage,” she admitted, tightening her grasp.
“But I do know this, I want to see who you are. Your story. Your past. The life of an enemy who hated his own monarch.”

A scoff, tinged with disbelief, reached her ears.

“We’d still be here till twilight if I had to tell you my story, my lady.”

The ocean struck the shore, it no longer sat in silence. Johannes closed his eyes, enjoying the touch of the cold spring breeze against his skin.

“At least tell me the basic facts, can’t you?”
“Such as?”
“Your age? Do you have any siblings?”
“I thought you’d heard all that from Mary?”

Heat rose to her cheeks. It dawned on her then, Mary would have reported all of her activities to this man.

A crisp laugh shattered the air, like calm waves breaking.

And so she knew it was time.

“Tell me, Jo…”

His shortened name came naturally to her tongue.

“What would you do if the war had never broken out?”

Since the day she spent in the drawing room, through countless breakfasts with this infuriating man and dinners shared with Mary, she had grown to know the Falkenreich, Seiryan proclaimed as an enemy. And she wanted to strip the uniform from him, because somewhere deep within her, hope wanted to believe…

The ocean in his eyes calmed.

In that silence, he opened his soul, searching for an answer he had never truly asked himself. The breeze carried fragments of memory, scattered like puzzles, and him trying to fit them together differently.

Yet..

“I don’t know,” It was the only truthful answer he could give.

His mother would have expected him to be a perfect heir, the future head of the household, if aristocracy had not been dissolved by his own father, crushing her dream of reigning forever as queen of high society.

And his father…

No. There was no other path.

The answer was simple and easy.
Yet it left an ache in his chest.

“What about you?” he asked instead.

“What do you want to do when the war ends?”

He chose to divert her, to keep her from digging deeper.

Disappointment flickered briefly in her hazel eyes, but she knew when to pick her battles. She lowered her head, stretched her legs out on the grass, her hands resting loosely on her knees before her slender fingers slowly intertwined.

“I was angry when you said you didn’t know,” she admitted.
“Only to find that it was the same for me.”

A soft laugh, light as the breeze filled the air.
It was possibly the first time he truly heard her laugh, and it dismantled him.

Then her eyes met his, bright as the spring sky.

“I don’t know, Jo,” she said.

“Maybe I’d find my past. If not, I want to see the life beyond Seirya. Travel along the coast of Elyndra or even visit your country and hike the mountains there. I read that Falkenreich has the most beautiful peaks, forever topped with snow.”

“That’s an expensive journey you’re imagining, young lady.”

She pouted at the remark.

Yet the pieces in Johannes’s mind finally find its fit. This woman would never belong to a life without war. She belonged to open coasts and distant horizons, to the highest mountains of Wetterstein, the region he once called home.

For that life to exist, the war had to happen.

And that.. was the truth.

*****

Yet truth could mean something different to others.

And sometimes, that same truth did not arrive as a comfort that steadied you. Instead, it came as a distortion, one that ruined lives. For one man, truth existed at the fault line between enemy and ally.

God damn it.
I just want to quit.
Fuck this war.

That man was Daria.
A nobody.

*****

Author’s note:

Phew… I have been waiting to write this chapter for a very long time! It features one of the most pivotal scenes between Johannes and Reina/Celeste. I hope you enjoy it!

A trivial fact: Riding astride became acceptable for high-status women only after Falkenreich transitioned into a Republic. Previously, it was socially unacceptable for women to ride this way; instead, they rode sidesaddle, using a specialized saddle that was significantly more dangerous. This shift also transformed women’s equestrian fashion, making riding pants an acceptable choice. This era of history was heavily inspired by European riding traditions during the Edwardian period.

What do you think? Do you feel Johannes taught Reina the true meaning of freedom?