CHAPTER 280: BACK AGAIN

It was a familiar ride for Irene. She had taken that very path in the dead of winter when she began her monthly bleeding and ran to her family’s home.

Even though it was a few years before that point, she remembered it so well.

As she crossed into the small village that had the only place to stay between the Duke’s Tower and her father’s lands, she placed her horse in the otherwise nearly bare stables and removed her helmet so that she wouldn’t intimidate those she crossed paths with.

Walking into the inn, she went right to the innkeeper, who was looking upon her with lowered eyebrows and a contemplative expression.

It seemed she wasn’t the only one who remembered that trip.

"Y’know, you’ve come through here a few times," he explained. "I always thought you were a boy before now. Seems you’ve grown up a lot in a few years."

Irene wasn’t sure how to take that comment and merely smiled politely.

"I suppose I was a bit boyish growing up," she admitted softly.

It was an understatement, of course, but she wasn’t going to tell her life’s story to a stranger. Some might not take well the fact that she had been hiding.

Other than that small moment, the rest of her time traveling went off uneventfully. Few travelers were on the road, and snow didn’t fall. It was really all she could ask for as someone who was taking a trip she wasn’t expecting to.

Before she stepped foot onto her father’s lands, she cast her eyes in the direction of the Duke’s Tower, obviously not visible to her by that point, and she sighed.

"I will be back before the plains flood," she quietly promised. "Grandmother will be better by then."

And if not? She didn’t have an answer for that at the moment. As long as one of the most important women in her life outside of her mother knew that she had been there to support her during a low time, that was enough for Irene.

By the time Irene made it to the heart of her father’s land and through the village she grew up in, she was happy to see that things were as they always were. There was no sign of monster attacks; all the houses and other buildings stood upright, smoke rose from chimneys to show signs of life, and people seemed to have plenty of wood stacked up and dry for the season.

However, rather than going to her family’s home, she went through the village until she could take the perpendicular road that seemed to dead-end but actually turned into the trail that would take her to her grandmother’s home on the other side of the small crop of trees.

She was relieved to see that the area around her grandmother’s small house had been unburied. It was certainly the work of her father and brother because she saw two sets of footprints in the snow.

Since her grandmother kept her horse at Arthur’s house and normally walked there when she needed it, despite all the offers to have a stable built on her lands, Irene had no choice but to allow Sorrel to wander in the cold.

She had already seen two other horses galloping through the plains and picking at what grass remained poking through the snow. More signs that Arne and her father were both there.

"I’ll be back later," she told the horse as she slipped off of him. She removed her helmet as she spoke to the animal. "Hopefully with a snack. Otherwise, you will be waiting until we get to my father’s home."

She patted his cheek with a gloved hand as she walked by. He had been such a good horse to her through all the years. He not only helped get her to the Duke’s Tower but also through an entire war and trips throughout the duchy.

Girl or not, the horse was most loyal to her. He didn’t care about the circumstances surrounding who she was.

These thoughts carried Irene to her grandmother’s doorstep, where she firmly knocked a couple of times.

The door opened to reveal her brother. Each time she saw her brother, she marveled at how much he looked like her father. While she was faintly jealous about it, she no longer had to hide who she was, so she was accepting of the things she had to offer, even if people made fun of her height every now and then was still enough for her to draw her sword depending on the circumstances.

"Arne," Irene greeted with a small smile. "Where is father?"

"Why do you keep coming back?" he asked. "Aren’t you busy as a knight?"

The couple of seconds it took Irene to formulate a response, she saw a large hand clasp her brother’s shoulder and shove him off to the side.

"My sweet girl!" Arthur greeted with a booming voice. "You should have told me you were coming."

"I figured it would be obvious," Irene explained as she stepped into the warm dwelling and shut the door tightly behind her so the heat wouldn’t escape any longer. "After all, you sent a letter to Felix, the knight with the largest soft spot for me."

As she looked at her father, she could see hollowness underneath his eyes. He was clearly exhausted by the arrangement of having to take care of his mother each day. She was certainly not an easy person to accommodate. Since she was restless lying in bed, she was likely in quite a terrible mood.

Despite his tiredness, the former knight grinned at his daughter.

His smile was as good as a response. She knew at that moment it was very much purposeful that he sent a letter to Felix, going around her altogether. However, it also caused her to worry that, if her father was willing to go that route, then there must be a reason for it.

"How is grandmother?" she asked.

She could see for herself.

Rather than wait for an answer, Irene pushed past her brother and father and went through the threshold with a piece of fabric that divided the minimal rooms in the house. There was merely a living area and a sleeping area, nothing more than that.

She didn’t get more than a foot into the room before she stopped abruptly.

The only thing lighting her grandmother was the stove in the corner that glowed orange from its open door. An herbal smell took over the room. The angle of the stove compared to the bed caused long shadows to be cast on her face. There were lines she didn’t recognize, a hollowness she was unaccustomed to seeing.

She was rushing before, but she moved forward slowly until she was kneeling beside her grandmother, who, for the first time in her entire life, looked too fragile to touch. Right away, she knew why her father wanted her there, but didn’t want to force her directly. Irene was more likely to listen to someone else rather than her own feelings.

Her grandmother was so old that these things were inevitable, but it didn’t make it that much easier. Especially hard because she had suffered so much loss too recently.

"She will be asleep until morning," Irene heard her father say from the doorway. "I lit incense that will keep her asleep so she can recover from a day of coughing and pestering us for the impossible."

He was trying to joke, but he clearly looked stressed out.

"She’s very sick," Irene observed. She wasn’t asking.

Arthur only nodded.

Irene nodded, and she removed her glove so she could reach out and touch her grandmother’s warm cheek. Her aged skin was soft and thin. She silently bid her goodnight and stood up to join Arne and her father in the other room.

"I fear she won’t make it more than a few months at this rate," Arthur admitted. "Her memory comes and goes. Sometimes she’s quite clear and other times she is confused as to why she’s coughing or why she’s forced to stay in bed all the time."

"Do you think she’s hurting?" Irene asked.

"You remember that aquavit she swore cured all ailments," Arthur suggested. "She has been off that stuff every day. Can’t say I blame her. If I were sick like that, I would want to be numb."

Aquavit was a savory spirit for both sickness and celebrations. It was strong, and even the smell of it was off-putting to Irene.

"I understand," Irene relented. "Shall we go home then if I’m not going to be able to see her awake?" Her attention went back towards the piece of fabric that had closed over the doorway. "She’ll be alright by herself."

"We’ll return even before she’s awake again," Arthur assured her. "It’s the schedule we have taken to lately. Luckily, there aren’t many monsters to bother with here, so I haven’t neglected the lands."

"I believe you," Irene responded. "It would be good practice for Arne to cut them down himself every now and then."

The teen rolled his eyes at her.

"You’re such a teenager now," Irene teased. "What will I do when you start liking girls?"

Irene made a fake gagging noise, and Arne nearly tackled her.

"Take it outside," her father ordered.

She really was home, it seemed.