Home/I confined you, but I have no ill will/ch 60

60.

Looking at him, Ibelin voiced a long-held complaint.

"Stop calling me your fiancée—we haven't even had an engagement ceremony."

Besides, they were far from the capital now. No nobles to prove she was his fiancée. Hearing it now felt awkward.

"True."

For once, Kite nodded readily.

"Then shall we have a small ceremony?"

"Are you serious?"

"Would I joke?"

How far could he go to tease her? Ibelin swallowed a sigh and narrowed her eyes.

"Who would benefit from that?"

Not her—she didn't need an engagement ceremony for something that would eventually end. But Kite seemed to think otherwise.

"Me."

His casual reply made her bristle. She'd never felt like this with her grandfather—but being with Kite brought it out often.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Why is it ridiculous?"

"Are you really asking?"

"Yes."

"Then listen."

He was the head of a ducal house. She was a baron's daughter—capable, but with nothing. A baron's daughter with no assets was no different from a commoner, noble though she was. And he wanted to make her Duchess? The retainers would rage.

"Nothing's happened so far."

"They're just uncertain."

Even with the engagement, they left room for doubt—she would have done the same, so that wasn't the problem.

"Most of all—we're not truly in love."

She struck the core.

"I'll marry someone who loves me."

At her firm words, Kite made a subtle expression.

"Hmm."

He seemed to be thinking—and it didn't seem beneficial to her, so she excused herself to deal with the venison.

She avoided him until she slept.

---

The prophetic dreams always came unannounced.

Bright sunlight, well-trimmed grass beneath her feet. A gentle breeze brushed her cheek. She tucked her hair back—and heard lively sounds.

Laughter and joy.

She walked toward the sound. A grand cathedral stood before it, with many people gathered in the garden.

Such weddings were usually for the wealthy or high-ranking—but the guests were diverse. Many she recognized: knights of House Gracias, a maid she'd met, the butler beside her, looking proud.

"To the beginning of happiness!"

He raised his glass, and others followed. Everyone looked so happy.

She turned her gaze to the cathedral entrance. Who could be marrying to gather all of House Gracias? Only one person came to mind.

Kite.

He'd finally found a spouse. Relief and bitterness mixed—why? They were only fake engaged. She didn't know.

Then, through the open doors, two figures appeared.

Kite in white, carrying a woman in a gown. The veil fluttered in the wind—and her face was revealed.

'Huh?'

She gasped.

The woman's face was—

"Hah!"

Ibelin woke, staring at the ceiling. She was in the wagon.

What dream was that? She looked around—the maid was curled up asleep beside her.

She threw off the blanket and rose slowly. The maid slept on.

Carefully opening the wagon door, she saw the campfire. Alex sat on watch.

"Lady Ibelin—what's wrong?"

"Nothing—just woke up suddenly."

"Shall I make you some tea?"

"No—I'd like to walk a bit."

"It's dangerous at night—you can't."

He said firmly. She could have managed alone, but she couldn't refuse his concern. She accepted the tea and sat by the fire.

Watching the flames, she replayed the dream.

The bride's face—it had been hers.

I looked happy.

Arms around Kite's neck, kissing his cheek—a blissful bride.

But the more she recalled, the more her head ached.

How could they become like that? Was it just a dream, not a prophecy? But she'd never dreamed except to glimpse the future.

Her grandfather said that was because she was a seer.

Will I really marry him?

Absurd. She held the tea without drinking. Alex noticed her troubled silence.

"Something on your mind?"

"Yes—there is."

"If you'd like, you can tell me."

"No—it's not something I can share."

She'd be taken for a madwoman—few knew she was a seer. And she couldn't tell Kite this embarrassing future.

But I want to know how!

What would happen to make them marry? They'd both been laughing so happily—too real for mere show. Her confusion only deepened.

---

"She's been strange lately."

Kite glared at the moving wagon.

"What do you mean?"

Alex asked, riding beside him.

"Doesn't Ibelin seem to be avoiding me?"

"She is."

Alex nodded. She ate in the wagon alone, didn't walk—when Kite called, she gave only brief answers.

"Did you do something wrong?"

"Me?"

Kite scoffed but racked his brain. Nothing came to mind.

"Try apologizing first."

To see if she'd react. The old Kite would have dismissed it—but her behavior bothered him. Especially since he'd realized his feelings.

So when the wagon stopped and the maid alighted, he quickly climbed in. Inside, she couldn't escape—Alex blocked the other door. Reluctantly, he obeyed.

Trapped with him, Ibelin's eyes went wide.

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