Time seemed to stretch infinitely in that moment.
The rolling sound of the wheels and the faint chirping of birds in the distance became a blurred background noise.
Inside the carriage, only their intertwined, slightly hurried breathing remained, along with a restless, throbbing ambiguity.
“I… really… didn’t do it on purpose,” Sophia’s voice was dry, carrying a rare sense of helplessness.
“…I know.”
Tulia responded softly, her voice equally muffled. She fought to restrain the tremors rising from deep within her body due to that subtle friction, trying her best to maintain her composure.
Although the atmosphere was awkward, the cold, stale air from before had somehow dissipated. Sophia could feel the tension in Tulia’s body ease slightly against her knees.
This subtle relaxation gave Sophia a spark of courage. Perhaps… now was the chance to ask the question that had been circling in her heart for far too long.
She took a deep breath. With a hint of trepidation, she spoke softly, her voice low and husky from suppressed nerves. “Tulia…”
“Hmm? What is it?” Tulia answered, her gaze still wandering. She didn’t quite dare to look directly into the overly focused violet eyes above her.
Sophia paused for a moment before letting the heavy question out. “Do you… do you love me?”
Tulia’s heart skipped a beat. ‘She… why did she ask that all of a sudden? At a time like this? In this position?’
“Hehe, why ask that out of the blue…” Tulia instinctively tried to escape. A habitual, slightly sly smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she attempted to brush it off with a joke.
But Sophia did not give her the chance. She reached out and gently turned Tulia’s head back, forcing her to meet her gaze.
“Answer me. Okay?” Sophia’s voice was very soft. She didn’t know if she would have the courage or the opportunity to get this close to Tulia’s heart if she missed this moment. No matter what, she needed an answer today, even if it was just a vague indication.
Tulia collided with that direct, almost scorching gaze, and all her excuses died in her throat. She realized Sophia was serious, making it impossible to be dismissive. She lowered her eyelashes, her mind a mess.
Did she love her? Did she hate her? She couldn’t even untangle it herself.
Too many things were mixed in there — the fear of their first meeting, the anger of being imprisoned, the dependence and resistance over the long years, the complexity of finding what was lost, and… something she didn’t want to look too closely at that had emerged after last night’s crying spell.
Silence spread through the small space, carrying a heart-wrenching weight. After a long time, Tulia finally answered in a voice that was almost inaudible, filled with genuine confusion. “…I don’t know.”
Sophia didn’t give up. She continued to press, her voice dropping lower. “Then, do you hate me?”
Tulia’s eyelashes fluttered, and she shook her head again. “…I don’t know.”
Two consecutive “I don’t knows” felt like ice water being poured over the faint hope Sophia had just ignited. Her chest felt tight and heavy. She closed her eyes, suppressed her swirling emotions, and asked the third and most crucial question. “Then, do you want me to leave?”
Tulia gave the same response almost immediately, but this time, there seemed to be more hesitation in her voice. “…I don’t know.”
These three “I don’t knows” were as light as feathers, yet they felt like fine sand slowly filling Sophia’s chest, bringing a sense of suffocation. Each one made the already blurry future between them even harder to grasp.
She looked at the confused and somewhat helpless face beneath her, and a mixture of despair and a final shred of unwillingness welled up. She took a deep breath and asked the final, most extreme question, her voice trembling as she gambled everything she had.
“Then I’ll ask one last thing. Do you want me to die?” Her eyes locked onto Tulia’s, refusing to miss even the slightest change in her expression. “If you say it, if you just say the word!”
“No!”
Almost the instant the words left Sophia’s mouth, Tulia blurted it out without thinking. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was exceptionally clear and decisive, without any hesitation or confusion. This answer was already etched into her instincts; it required no thought and brooked no doubt.
That unhesitating “no” sliced through the gloom and pain accumulating in Sophia’s heart. She froze, looking at Tulia’s eyes, which were widened slightly in urgency. Her own reflection was clearly mirrored in them.
It was a pure, unmistakable refusal — a refusal to let her disappear, a refusal to let her die.
Sophia’s face, which had grown increasingly pale and troubled from the previous denials, finally lost its restraint. Like snow melting in the first signs of spring, she let out an extremely faint but truly joyful expression.
Even though Tulia’s feelings for her remained vague, answered only by three “I don’t knows,” that one unhesitating “no” was worth more than a thousand words.
Not knowing didn’t mean she didn’t care. Being unable to untangle her feelings didn’t mean she was willing to lose her.
Sophia gazed deeply at the person beneath her. Her tense body finally relaxed, and a massive sense of relief, like reclaiming something lost, enveloped her. She felt as though… she had finally touched something real. Even though the road ahead was still murky, she had found a tiny, solid foothold.
“Can… can you get up now?” Tulia’s voice was clearly shy. A slight tremor betrayed her current state of mind.
Sophia suddenly felt an unusual, moist sensation at her knee. A thought that made her blood run cold flashed through her mind. ‘Could it be…!’
“I… I… I-I-I… I’ll get up right now.” She practically held her breath, using her arms to support her body in an extremely difficult and stiff posture, trying her best to avoid any extra friction. Throughout the entire process, her knees remained fixed in place, not daring to move an inch.
The two separated quickly, each shrinking into a corner of the carriage.
Tulia pressed her burning cheek against the cold window, wishing she could find a hole to crawl into. She pressed her legs tightly together, her toes curling in shame.
Sophia sat upright, staring fixedly at her own knees as if a flower were blooming there.
Tulia rested her forehead against the cool glass and whispered to herself, “I wonder how Lisbeth is doing at the Academy…”
These words were like a wisp of smoke, skillfully rescuing her from the previous embarrassment. She began to list her trivial worries. “That child is such a picky eater… I hope she doesn’t kick the blankets off at night again…”
These petty concerns served as the safest harbor for now. By missing her daughter, she could temporarily avoid thinking about the person behind her or the lingering warmth on her knees.
Sophia listened quietly without saying a word. Looking at Tulia’s back, which had relaxed slightly from longing, a hint of softness flashed in her eyes.