Mentions of someones suicide in this chapter.

Title inspo for this chapter was Imagine Dragons - I'm So Sorry.

Did she remember him? Hope started to crawl up into his heart before he choked it down. No, how could she? She was so young when it happened, even if she remembered how on earth could she recognize him?

It was foolish to get his hopes up. Still, if that was the case, why was she eyeing him like that with her lips parting like she was about to say something.

"It is an honor to make your acquaintance, lady Maximilian. I am Evan Triton." The commander's voice seemed to have taken both away from their trance.

The commander gave her a gentle smile as he extended his hand, making the gesture seem reassuring. Riftan watched as Maximilian tentatively placed her hand in his, allowing Triton to kiss it before introducing Riftan.

"And this young man is the Remdragon Knights' vice commander, Riftan Calypse."

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance," Riftan intoned. He didn't like the foul feeling twisting his gut the moment the commander's lips touched the back of her hand.

Maximilian almost seemed frozen in place, staring up at Riftan with wide eyes. Was she scared of him? No, that wasn't a look of fear.

Before he had time to figure out the look in her eyes the duke cleared his throat, causing her to cast her gaze downward.

"A-as am I." Her voice was so quick and soft

Riftan felt hyper aware of every movement she made as her eyes shifted from the floor to quickly look back at him before quickly looking away as if she was caught doing something she shouldn't have.

How? How could such a delicate look shine a new light on all those cherished fantasies. It was as if she cast a spell, causing them to flourish as vividly as the garden from the illusion that saved his life.

Don't choose misery.

His stepfather's words pierced his heart, causing whatever hope had managed to make its way there to slowly wither.

"My child, you look pale. Are you still feeling unwell?" Duke Croyso's voice suddenly resounded as he was being consumed by the sounds of his blood rushing in his ears.

The young woman flinched, then nodded. The duke let out a low sigh.

"You have greeted all our guests. Why don't you rest in your chambers now?" After glancing at both men Maximilian nodded again and turned away, leaving a small part of Riftan wanting to believe her eyes lingered on him a little longer. The duke watched his daughter leave with a concerned look before directing a tepid smile at Triton.

"Do pardon her ill manners. She is such a timid child that she finds such gatherings overwhelming."

"Is she not of age to be at court?"

"I cannot bring myself to send her to the capital when she is so vehemently against it."

The duke clasped his hands behind his back and shook his head, the picture of a benevolent father. Triton continued talking to the duke, but Riftan couldn't bring himself to care about what they had to say. He was far too busy watching as Maximilian walked away. Although his stepfathers' words continued to echo in his mind his eyes still trailed her, wishing for her to turn around and look at him again. She never did, and when she finally disappeared behind a corner he shook his head. He felt as if there was a war happening in his heart, a fight between his stepfather's warning and that look in her eyes.

Soon, the duke moved on to converse with the other guests. After several more hurried exchanges with the Eastern nobles, Riftan retreated to a corner and quickly emptied a goblet of wine. Triton gave him a disappointed look but Riftan ignored it along with any other noble that tried to hold a conversation with him. Riftan instead focuses on emptying as many goblets as possibly, trying his best to become inebriated to help with the knowledge that illusion he had built up might still be real. However, his head seemed to clear.

His mind continued racing, not fully coming to terms with the fact she might remember him, because why would she? How could she? She had to have been what, five or six? He could almost laugh at himself for even daring to look up. Perhaps she just saw him as a curiosity; he doubted it was common for the daughter of a Duke to see many half-breeds up so close. He must have been quite a spectacle for her to see, a savage pagan from the south playing knight.

He scoffed at himself. It was high time he got over the childish dream. He might be a knight, but he was still a lowly bastard while she was the daughter of a distinguished noble family.

After guzzling goblet after goblet of wine, he returned to his room and collapsed onto the bed, crushing the feathered hat in the process.

Riftan didn't know if it was due to the drink or from being in such a reached place but he had paid the price that night. He found his dreams haunted with putrid smells and the vision of his mother's ashen face staring down at him from the ceiling. He was a child again and completely paralyzed in the dream, forced to keep looking up at her as her hands began to reach out towards him. The joins in her arms popped as they stretched out in an unnatural way in order to reach him. Riftan was only able to wake up when her icy fingers touched his cheek.

The nightmare left him restless and the thumping headache assaulting him as soon as he opened his eyes didn't help.

Nothing he did that morning seemed to lessen the aching in his head. Closing his eyes to keep the blinding light out brought just summoned her face back into his mind and the cold water from the wash basin only seemed to worsening the chill in his bones. Eventually, he left his room to try and clear his head. After rubbing his eyes, Riftan started to move away from the guest wing of the building and headed outside. He had hoped that the warmth from the morning sun would help but the bright light mocked him and forced his eyes shut as he cursed out loud. He had half a mind to turn around and go back to sleep but the childish fear brought on by the nightmare forced him to keep moving forward.

Riftan wasn't sure if it was a left-over habit from his childhood but he would often find himself taking long walks or ride Talon to clear his head. It had started not long after he began working as an apprentice for the smithy, possibly the first day since it didn't take long for the blacksmith to show Riftan his violent side. He remembered the back of his head stinging almost as bad as his overworked arms. Despite the exhaustion of working so hard his legs had carried him past the hut he lived in and didn't stop until it was dark out. His stepfather had scolded him for being out so late at night but it didn't stop him from wandering again. He rarely started them with any clear destination, some days he would find himself at the little stream, others he would nearly be at the market. Today, that lack of direction seemed to mock him.

He didn't want to admit it, but maybe some part of him wanted to come here. Part of him had always wondered if it had stay the same or was it the one thing that had changed? He eventually found the answer and it led to him sitting in the same spot for several hours now, keeping an eye on the shack and the child hiding inside with 40 gold coins.

Riftan shouldn't be surprised that his stepfather moved on. The man deserved some happiness after having wasted twelve years on both him and his mother. Still, he couldn't help but feel some resentment.

Some would think he would want it abandoned, ready for him to burn down along with the memories of crushed flowers and stained wood. Instead, some foolish part of him had hoped he could return someday. Would he expect his stepfather to be proud of him?

He laughed bitterly.

The man would never be proud of what Riftan had become and he wouldn't blame him. He had been the one to forsake his childhood home, to leave an already grieving man alone with no family and the smell of rot.

He would have to admit, his stepfather had a stronger will than he gave him credit for. Riftan truly never expected to find the hut to now house his stepfather's new family. How could the man stand to live there? Riftan could hardly stay for one more night without feeling suffocated by the bitter memories.

Does his family even know what she had done? Did they ever question the stain on the wooden floor? Could they not feel the cold she had left behind?

Eventually, a man with a hunched back trudged up the hill with an armful of farming tools. Riftan watched his gray-haired stepfather, unable to ignore how slowly he moved now as if the man had aged twenty years instead of ten. The little boy shot out of the shack like an arrow. No doubt he had been anxiously waiting by the window for his father to come home.

Riftan watched them for a moment, wondering if his stepfather had ever given his new son the same advice.

Rubbing his still throbbing temples, Riftan turned on his heels and slowly moved back to the castle. All he wanted was to head straight to his room, throw himself in bed, and not move for the next two days.

When he reached the castle, all desire to rest evaporated. He was not in the mood to deal with the commander, who would no doubt barge in to pester him about tonight's banquet, nor did he want to interact with the other knights. Though he trusted them with his life, he was loath to let anyone see him vulnerable.

Riftan aimlessly began to walk again, circling the garden and strolling down a secluded forest path. He quickly remembered this being the shortcut he had often lugged sacks of charcoal along as a boy. On instincts alone, he followed the dirt trail. It looked just the same as when he was a child.

As his migraine slowly started to subside, Riftan leaned up against a tree trunk before realizing where he was. He stiffened, and a sigh escaped him as he spotted the light gray building through the dense foliage. He could not believe the places he was finding himself unwittingly walking towards.

There was a moment of hesitation before he stood up straight and began to trudge out of the forest with his shoulders slumped over. The garden he had dreamed of countless times grew closer, but it looked nothing like the one in his visions.

Riftan furrowed his brows at the desolate scene before him. The once vibrant flower beds were overrun with dried weeds, and the surrounding area was oddly quiet.

Does she not live here anymore?

He plucked a withered flower and crushed it between his fingers. The annex must have fallen into disrepair after the girl moved to the main castle. Indignant laughter burst out of him, and he started to feel hopelessly defeated. The withering garden felt like a knife ramming into his heart, driving home the point of his stepfather's words. The look in her eyes truly meant nothing.

He stood rubbing his neck for a moment. Just as he was about to head back, muffled laughter came through the trees, and he looked over at the empty garden. A chill wind bit into him as he tried to track the sound.

Slowly, Riftan circled the annex and found Maximilian Croyso crouched on the ground, playing with a large cat. He froze and swept his gaze over her. Her chestnut dress was plain compared to her outfit at the banquet. Her hair hung loose and disheveled around her shoulders. A tinge of red colored her cheeks on her otherwise pale face.

Something in his chest twisted painfully. She was the spitting image of his illusion.

Before his stepfathers' voice could warn him, he spun away, determined not to fall prey to her grip again.

"D-Do you…like me?" Her soft-spoken stutter made him freeze.

As if compelled by a cosmic force, Riftan's gaze snapped back to the girl. She was talking to the cat purring at her feet, her expression reminded them of when she was young and clinging onto the hunting hound. The cat stretched and rubbed its head on her skirt as if to answer her question. The girl smiled. Like a child playing with a doll, she gently picked it up and whispered to it.

"Th-Then…w-will you…stay with me?"

The startling sadness in her voice made Riftan's heart clench, and he rubbed at the spot on his ribs. Her loneliness was palpable even at a distance. At that moment, he felt that same deep connection with her that he had as a child. The memory of wanting to hug her came rushing back as he gazed sadly at the vulnerability in her face before taking a step back.

Looking higher will only bring misfortune.

His stepfather's voice echoed even louder than before. He should never have come back. It would have been better to remain oblivious to her loneliness.

Why would I ever-

Riftan's thoughts were cut off by a loud crunching sound. A feeling of panic shot up his spine as he looked down to see his foot had smashed into what seemed to be an old wicker basket that had been hiding in the thick weeds.

Before he could look up the sound of a soft gasp echoed out over the neglected garden. Taking in a shallow breath Riftan raised his head to look at the girl whose hands let the cat jump from her lap and flew up to her mouth. Those beautiful eyes widened at him as her already red cheeks became more vibrant.

Riftan's trembling hands curled into fist as he took another step back only to halt and curse at the basket stuck around his boot. His anxiety only increased as he tried to figure out a way to shake off this damn thing with some dignity only to stop at the sound of her footsteps.

Looking up he caught the lady's eyes again. Using his free foot, he stepped down hard onto the basket surrounding the trapped one, creating another loud crunch noise that caused Maximilian to flinch a little. Riftan started to feel like bugs were crawling around under his skin as he dipped his head down in a quick bow, biting hard on his tongue to not yell out in frustration.

Quickly, he spun around and started to march off, cursing himself out in his head for acting so foolish only to stop at the smallest of sounds behind him.

"P-please wait."

Riftan could swear that his heart stopped as he stood there frozen, as if the soft command put him under a spell. He tried to convince himself to turn around, but he felt terrified. It was laughable, how the hell could he feel fear for this tiny noble woman?

He kept still as if he was a deer being hunted while listening as she slowly walked towards him. Closing his eyes, Riftan waited for her to come to her senses and walk away but the sounds of her delicate steps and the rustling of her skirts continued to come closer. It wasn't until she stopped that he finally gained control to turn and look at her.

Maximilian's small hands started to play with the hem of her sleeves as she nervously kept looking up and then down at the ground all while remaining silent. Riftan suddenly found himself not caring that she didn't say anything, just enjoying the fact he was so close to her, close enough to reach out and touch her beautiful cloud-like hair that was gently dancing in the soft breeze.

He didn't even notice his hand slowly starting to reach out for one of the curly locks until she started to speak up again.

"S-sir R-Riftan."

A grub should keep to the ground.

"For-forgive me if..."

Looking higher will only bring misfortune.

"If I am...m-mis-mistaken."

So you mustn't be like her.

"D-did you...gr-grow up here?"

Don't choose misery.