Chapter 133: Today, We Leave For X Country...
The snow has not stopped for seven days.
It falls without interruption, without apology—a slow, relentless curtain of white that has buried Crystal Country in a silence so complete it feels almost sacred. The gardens of Roselle Mansion, once a carefully tended tapestry of green and bloom, have disappeared beneath winter’s weight.
Only the winter jasmine still shows its face—tiny yellow blossoms, stubborn and brave, pushing through the snow like whispered promises that spring will eventually return.
Today, we leave for X Country.
The car waits at the bottom of the steps, black and sleek against the endless white, its engine humming softly in the frozen air. Secretary Nick stands beside the open door, holding an umbrella over me with his usual practiced patience. Snow gathers on the black fabric before sliding off in quiet rivulets, disappearing into the white below.
My hands are buried deep in my coat pockets, my breath rising in pale clouds that vanish almost as soon as they form. The cold nips at my cheeks, my nose, and the tips of my ears—but I don’t move. I simply stand there, watching the snow drift over the Roselle garden.
I promised him.
When the snow came, we’d go to X Country together.
I kept that promise.
Since then, Silas’s happiness has been impossible to miss.
He packed our things himself, carefully folding every piece of clothing. He refused help from the servants—even from Secretary Nick—gently shooing them away before spending the entire night arranging our suitcases as though preparing for the most important journey of his life.
I simply watched him.
He was like a child on the last day of school, counting down the hours until freedom.
So eager. So excited.
I wonder, sometimes.
Does he miss his home that much?
I glance down at my watch. The second hand moves slowly, deliberately.
How much longer?
The mansion doors open.
They step out together—Silas between my parents. My mother has her arm wrapped around his, her other hand clutching a handkerchief. Her eyes are red, swollen, wet. She’s been trying to hold back her tears, but the tremor in her shoulders gives her away. My father walks beside them, his pace measured, his expression quiet, but I can see the softness in his eyes.
My mother looks at me, then at Silas. Her voice trembles when she speaks.
"I’m really going to miss both of you." She presses the handkerchief to her eyes. "Please come back soon."
Silas reaches over and pats her hand lightly. He gives her that familiar smile—the one that disarms everyone, the one that softens even the coldest hearts. Then he nods, a small, silent promise.
My father’s voice is low and steady—the voice of a man who has spent a lifetime hiding his feelings but can’t quite hide them now.
"Levi," he says gently, "they’re not leaving forever. Just for a little while. Don’t be sad."
My mother nods, sniffling, her fingers still wrapped around Silas’s arm as though she can’t quite bring herself to let go.
"Don’t forget to call me, son."
He nods again.
I stand there, watching them. A quiet heat stirs behind my ribs—not quite anger, not quite jealousy. Something in between.
They’re fussing over him like he’s the one leaving.
Like I’m not standing right here.
Also leaving.
I cross my arms and look away. A quiet sigh slips from my lips, soft enough that only I can hear it.
Isn’t this a little unfair?
Then my father’s hand comes to rest on my shoulder.
I glance at him.
He doesn’t say anything at first. He simply looks at me with an expression I haven’t seen in years. Not disappointment. Not authority. Something quieter. Something softer.
Pride.
His hand is warm. Heavy. Steady.
"I’m happy," he says at last, his voice low enough that only I can hear. "Seeing how you care for him now... it feels like I’m finally seeing the man you’ve become."
"I’ve always been this way," I mutter.
A smile touches his lips, and his hand gives my shoulder a firm, reassuring squeeze.
"Take care of each other."
I nod.
My mother steps toward me, her arms already open, a handkerchief still clutched in one hand.
"Now come here. Give your mother a hug before you leave."
A smile finds my lips before I can stop it—small, reluctant, but real. I step forward and wrap my arms around her. She feels smaller than I remember, warm despite the winter cold. She holds me tightly, her trembling hands resting against my back.
"Take care of him," she whispers. "And yourself." She leans back just enough to look at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I wish you both so much happiness. And don’t forget your parents."
I lift my hand and gently wipe away the tears gathering at the corner of her eyes with my thumb.
"We’ll be back soon."
She smiles through her tears and nods.
I turn to Silas.
He’s been watching us quietly.
I raise my hand toward him.
"Should we go?"
A soft smile spreads across his face. He slips his hand into mine, his fingers cool from the winter air but steady in my grasp.
Secretary Nick opens the rear door.
Silas glances back at my parents one last time and gives them a small nod—a silent farewell—before slipping into the car.
I walk around to the other side and open the door. Before getting in, I look back.
My mother waves gently. My father simply watches me. I lift my hand in return, then slide into the seat beside Silas.
The door closes behind me with a deep, solid thud, sealing us inside the quiet warmth of the car. Secretary Nick settles into the passenger seat, and the car rolls forward, slowly pulling away from the mansion.
Silas keeps his eyes on the window for a long while. Snow-covered trees drift past in slow procession as white flakes continue to fall beyond the glass.
Then he turns to me. Our eyes meet. Beneath the coat draped across our laps, his hand quietly finds mine.
Without a word, I move closer. He rests his head against my shoulder, his fingers tightening gently around mine. A faint smile lingers on his lips.
I lean back against the seat and close my eyes.
The road stretches ahead, endless and white.
We don’t speak.
We don’t need to.