I was surprised by Sofia's playful gesture and touched by her genuine concern for me. I didn't even realize that tears were streaming down my cheeks. Her insistence on being there for me, just as I had been for her when she lost her father, warmed my heart. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to share Cordelia's story with her. I had always intended to share Cordelia's story with my family when I return home. Cordelia was almost becoming part of our humble household after all. And since I considered Sofia as family too, it felt right to share this personal tale with her as well. Of course I skipped the intimate part.

Grieving the loss of someone dear is not an unfamiliar feeling for me or anyone else. I have experienced the pain of losing my father, my youngest sister, and, of course, my Master. So, why do I find myself holding on to the grief of Cordelia? Was it because she was the only woman I ever loved deeply? Perhaps.. But that doesn't diminish the love I felt for the others I have lost. I don’t think love is a matter of comparison.

When I was in the cemetery, as I stood before Cordelia's tombstone, a realization struck me - she didn't have immediate family to attend her funeral. We had become each other's family, promising to marry and start a life together. Although we hadn't had any children yet, we had plans for the future. She once confided in me that her past made her afraid to dream of having a family of her own. The thought that there were no immediate traces of her left in this world disturbed me deeply.

As I shared with Sofia the life story of Cordelia, I noticed tears welling up in her eyes. It was evident that she sympathized deeply with Cordelia's tragic fate.

"You're such a kind-hearted girl, Sofia. You shed tears for Cordelia, even though you never met her," I said, touched by her compassion.

Having shared Cordelia's story with Sofia, I felt a sense of relief washing over me. Ancient tales had often spoken of how one truly dies when forgotten by all, and perhaps that notion had fueled my obsession to remember Cordelia, even if it meant enduring the pain of grief.

"Eh? No... I mean... It's not..." she stammered, looking flustered and trying to hide her emotions.

Sofia seemed uncertain about what to ask, but she finally gathered the courage and inquired, "Do you still love her, Takahiko?"

"I believe I do. I don't think I will ever forget about her," I admitted.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

As I recalled Cordelia's story, I came to a realization – she was never truly alone. She had found friendship and a father figure in Rusty Dagger's master. Moreover, her colleagues at the Pixie Blessing tavern had a good relationship with her, and undoubtedly, her patrons there would remember her fondly too. She had left behind a network of people who cherished her memory, and it was a comforting thought to know that she had touched the lives of so many.

"So, you don't see yourself falling in love with another woman... ever?" she asked hesitantly.

"I can't say for certain. At least, I know it won't happen anytime soon," I replied honestly. I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride knowing that I was the only man she had truly loved in her life. I cherished that feeling and vowed never to let go of that pride.

Sofia’s face fell with disappointment. "That... would be a real shame," she said, dejected.

"But thanks to you, I feel like my heart is less burdened. I truly appreciate your presence here, Sofia," I said, gently patting her head. She seemed slightly annoyed by the gesture, but I meant every word I said. Sharing Cordelia's story with Sofia didn't completely erase my sadness, but it brought me a sense of consolation knowing that someone I consider like family is here to share my grief.

"..I think maybe it's time for you to stop patting my head, Takahiko," Sofia protested.

"Oh, you don't want to be petted anymore?" I replied, trying to hide my amusement.

"Well.. I mean.. I'm not a little girl anymore.. But.. I don't hate it if.. It's just on occasion.. Maybe.. But.. Uhhh, why is it so hard for me to say what I mean!" She looked frustrated, and I found it endearing. It reminded me that she was still a teenager, grappling with her emotions and self-expression.

I couldn't help but laugh at her unreasonableness.

"So, how was it? The feeling of embarking on a journey far from your home for the first time?" I diverted the conversation, sensing that it was the right moment to shift away from the sad story about Cordelia.

"Well, it was a wonderful experience. I would have never experienced this if I had stayed in Goldkorb," she replied, seeming to understand my intention to change the topic.

We continued talking about various other things, immersed in each other's company, as the gentle night wind caressed us and the stars shimmered above. Gradually, the weariness from the day's events and emotions started to weigh on me, and I felt Sofia's body lean against mine. The warmth of her presence was comforting, and the subtle fragrance of spices and smoke from her cooking still lingered, adding to the peaceful ambiance. As the night embraced us, I realized how fortunate I was to have Sofia by my side.

Despite my desire to take her back to the carriage, my drowsiness overcame me, and I could not resist the pull of sleep. Slowly, my eyes closed, and I drifted into the realm of dreams, knowing that Sofia was there, a reassuring presence beside me.