Her Graceful War Song

At times, I taught my students to face life with courage and own up to their mistakes. Yet, I had not done so myself.

All these years, I had hardly seen Thomas. If there was an event where he might be present, I would quietly avoid it.

Back when I was still stubborn, Zoey had scolded me, saying I owed Thomas an apology. At the time, I didn't quite agree. In fact, I felt rather aggrieved.

But thinking back now-what was I so aggrieved about? Who truly owed me anything? Had the heavens not already treated me kindly enough? Everything I lost, I brought upon myself.

More than once, I had unfolded a sheet of parchment, intending to write him a sincere apology from the heart. Yet, each time I put a quill to paper, the ink would fall, but not a single word would follow.

I feared the letter would seem sudden and out of place, that it might stir suspicion

in his wife's heart, or in Barrett's. Even though Barrett and I were husband and

wife in name only, I still didn't wish to disturb the peace between us.

During this time, Barrett returned home a few times. Perhaps he noticed the crumpled bits of parchment left in my study, for he asked someone to warm a pot of wine and prepare some snacks, then invited me to sit with him.

Whenever he came back previously, we would dine together, but rarely spoke. And we had certainly never shared wine before.

I could tell he had something on his mind, so I poured him a cup, then one for myself as I waited for him to speak.

He drank slowly, then set the cup down with ease. He looked at me and said, "I've seen some parchment in your study these past visits. Looks like you wanted to write something, but never finished. Who is it you're trying to write to?"

Since I arrived at Victory Pass, we had kept our conversations plain and direct. We only spoke when there was something to say, and never beat around the bush. I rather liked it that way. It kept misunderstandings at bay.

So, I didn't hide it. I laid my thoughts bare and told him everything.

When I finished, I added, "It's nothing more than that. I simply wish to admit my faults while I still live, and to offer apologies where they are due. Only then will my heart feel truly at peace."

A flicker of puzzlement crossed Barrett's sun-darkened face. "Why didn't you say the words you wanted to him while you were still in the capital?"

I sighed. "I didn't dare."

He laughed, showing a flash of white teeth. "Indeed, apologising face to face takes a great deal of courage. Writing a letter is easier. So, go on then-write the letter."

"Do you

mind?" I asked him.

He looked a little surprised, as though it had not occurred to him that I would care about his feelings.

After a moment's pause, he poured himself another cup of wine and drank it slowly. There was a touch of wistfulness in his eyes as he shook his head and said, "I don't mind. I

think what you're doing takes

courage." sŵnovel

I looked at him and curiously asked, "Did you ever apologise to Carissa?"

"I did," he replied.

"She wouldn't forgive you?" I asked. "That seems strange. From what I know of her now, she doesn't hold on to the past. That's not her nature."

Truth be told, Carissa was doing well now. Even though I was Barrett's wife, I had to admit that Rafael was truly a fine husband. People who were living well didn't tend to dwell on old hurts or betrayals.noveldrama

"She said it was in the past," he said softly, though I could still see regret in his eyes.

It wasn't that Carissa hadn't forgiven him—it was that he had not forgiven himself.

Of course. When one once had someone so good and failed to cherish them, how could there not be regret?

I regretted things too. But we had to look ahead, not remain trapped by what couldn't be undone. That was what I had learned during my years at the workshop. It was also the very reason I wished to apologise to Thomas.

To put it plainly-it was my way of making peace with my past.

If one couldn't forgive oneself, no one else truly could either.

"Yes, it is in the past. Let it stay there. You're now stationed at Victory Pass, with both rank and merit. What matters most is looking to the future. Even if we ruined the first half of our lives, should we let those mistakes ruin the rest of it too?" I said.

Something in him shifted. He looked at me for a long while, then reached out and took my hand.

His voice was low and hoarse as he said, "You've opened my eyes."

It was the first time he had ever held my hand since I arrived at Victory Pass. I squeezed his hand in return, and felt a quiet relief settle inside me.

I wrote a letter to Thomas. Two months later, his reply arrived.

He wrote: [The past is nothing but smoke now. Let it drift away and be forgotten.

I'm doing well these days, and I hope you and Barrett are too.]

I folded the letter neatly and placed it in my drawer. The thorn that had long been lodged in my heart had finally been removed.

I would strive to live the rest of my life well. And I hoped that any woman who had once made mistakes might also have the chance to begin again.