Who said wounds heal with time?
Nothing ever truly heals, no matter how many days have passed. The traces remain—clear as ever—and the pain feels just the same. Every time she looks at the details of the villa she now lives in, it feels like being surrounded by blades.
Kala tries to get used to it all. To grow accustomed to the silence, to repeat the same routines day after day. It's been a month since she and Raken have stayed in this villa. The man always finds something new for her to learn.
Like this morning.
At the crack of dawn, Raken had already brought her behind the villa. And just like he said back at the lake, it was real. A garden—vegetables and herbs growing lush and thriving. Kala stood there, mouth slightly open, her eyes feeling cleansed by the greenery before her. She could smell the earth, the leaves.
"Your mouth looks like the perfect home for flies right now."
Raken had already walked deeper into the garden, leaving Kala still frozen in place.
She snapped out of it, quickly fixing the strap of her nightdress that had slipped off her shoulder. She hadn't even washed her face yet—there were still traces of sleep in the corners of her eyes.
"Hey, seriously, Ken. How am I only finding out about this now?"
"Who said you only wanted to laze around?"
"I'm pretty sure that wasn't me." Kala flicked her hair at the end of her sentence, completely shameless.
Raken simply watched without commenting. Women didn't like being wrong, and men were always expected to give in.
No.
There's no such thing as "giving in" when it comes to someone you genuinely want to protect. A man can argue back if he wants. He can walk away if it's too much. Nothing is forced. And everything Raken does for Kala—it's entirely his own choice.
"I like radishes, but I don't like carrots. Ken, don't plant these orange things again, okay?" Her slender finger pointed at the patch of carrots still rooted in the soil.
"I'll remember that."
"You should already know that."
"These were planted by the previous caretaker. I'm just continuing it."
A rustling sound interrupted them.
Kala, who wasn't far from Raken, turned her head, searching for the source. To her right was a patch of spinach—short but dense. She could only see the leaves trembling, so she kept watching.
Until something came out.
Without even confirming what it was, Kala ran and jumped. Raken caught her instantly.
"A PIG, KEN!"
Raken held her tightly in his arms. Even without preparation, he was always the safe place Kala needed.
"A chicken, Kala."
He felt her grip slowly loosen. Kala clung to him like a koala, forcing him to hold her properly so she wouldn't fall. Fortunately, his body was sturdy enough to handle her sudden leap.
Kala turned her head toward where she had been standing. There, a chicken was pecking at the ground, searching for worms.
Instead of getting down, she rested her head on Raken's shoulder, finding comfort in his arms.
"I think that pig turned into a chicken."
"There are no pigs here."
"But I swear I saw one." She insisted stubbornly.
"There's no such thing, Kala. Get down."
Raken released the hand supporting her, but she didn't budge. Her legs tightened even more around his waist.
"I'm tired, Ken. My legs are weak. I shouldn't stand too much—what if I get gout?"
"That makes no sense."
"I don't care, I'm not getting down!"
In the end, Raken gave up and let her stay like that. He walked back into the villa—one arm holding Kala, the other carrying a basket of vegetables.
Once they reached the kitchen, he placed her on the table, letting her sit and watch as he washed the vegetables. Neither of them spoke. Only the sound of running water filled the space.
Raken was about to peel a radish when Kala spoke.
"I want to stay here forever, Ken."
A long silence followed. Raken paused for a moment before continuing what he was doing.
"I don't want to see them. I'd rather die here than become Mahatma's slave."
The faucet was still running, its soft trickling deliberately left on by Raken to keep the silence from swallowing them whole.
He thought Kala had forgotten everything. From the way she behaved, he believed she had lost her memory. But today, he realized—it was all an act. Her way of coping. Of healing. Yesterday had only been recovery from the shock.
"You have to go back there, Kala. Face them."
"No!"
"You have to. Not as a slave—but as the owner."
"You're crazy, Ken. That's the same as telling me to kill myself."
"Then what do you want?"
Raken set the radish down and turned fully toward her.
"Kala, if something belongs to you, it will always be yours. No matter how far you run, no matter how hard you try to live like you're already dead—it will come back."
"I don't want it."
The redness in Kala's eyes showed just how hard she was holding back her tears. Her fists clenched, trying to contain emotions she couldn't release.
"If you refuse, then I'll make you accept it. As long as I'm here, you are the lady of it all."
The moment he finished speaking, a sharp sting shot through his calf—like a faint scratch reminding him he was being summoned.
He gently patted Kala's head before excusing himself.
"I need some scallions. Stay here."
"Don't be long."
"Just a moment."
Once he was sure she allowed it, Raken stepped out, searching for the source of the pain. It didn't take long—his body was connected to the barrier protecting the entire villa.
In an instant, he arrived at the exact spot.
Not far from the building. Close enough that anyone from the villa could see him if they wanted. The barrier in front of him was built by Hanganto, likely for privacy.
"Come in."
A woman leapt over the high wall, landing gracefully as if it were nothing. The tiara on her head remained in place, her clear eyes unchanged.
Hein.
"For some reason, I'm glad to see you today."
"Is that so, Master?"
"Your beauty impresses me."
"It seems you're in a good mood today. Is that why?"
"Of course. And I hope you bring me good news so it lasts."
Raken sensed something off from the way Hein smiled.
"Do you know where the pig is, Master?"
"Do I look like a pig herder?"
"Ah, my apologies. The King's pig escaped. Its trail ends here."
"The dark realm must be in chaos if even a pig can escape. Are you all now beneath pigs?"
Raken smirked, clearly mocking her.
"That's not it, Master. That pig is a tracking creature for sinful souls. But it ran off. Insolent thing." Hein massaged her temple.
"It's a pig. And you're weaker than one. You can't even track a sinful soul properly."
Raken suddenly recalled something—Kala mentioning the same animal earlier. But when he checked, it was clearly a chicken.
"Can it change form?" he asked, slipping a hand into his pocket.
"That one? Of course. It can transform at will. Haven't you ridden it when it turned into a horse?"
Ah. Right.
He had once tried to escape the palace on horseback—only for that very horse to drag him straight back to the King.
He would never forget that betrayal.
"I think I know where that bastard is."
Hein looked at him with hope.
"Check behind the villa. Hopefully it hasn't turned into a worm and gotten stepped on."
"Yes, Master. What form was it last seen in?"
"A chicken. If I find its droppings, I'll roast it."
A killing intent filled the air. Without wasting another second, Hein vanished to search for the troublesome creature.
When Raken returned, he found Kala sitting on the sofa. Soft sunlight fell over one side of her, making her glow.
She looked like a sacred fairy.
To Raken, everything about her was beautiful. Even sitting still, she radiated nobility.
"Milk."
He placed a glass of warm milk beside her, along with a plate of cookies to snack on while waiting for breakfast.
Kala didn't respond.
Raken just shook his head, assuming she was too immersed in her book. Then he returned to the kitchen to finish cooking.
Time passed.
The food was ready.
Kala hadn't moved.
Raken smiled faintly at the sight of his lady, who seemed to forget the world whenever she read.
"Kala, breakfast is ready."
"I hate you."
Kala slammed the book shut and threw it onto the table with a loud thud. Then she stormed off to her room, leaving Raken standing there—full of questions.
What did I do wrong this time?