"What?" The one who interjected was Astara's mother, not Astara herself, showing a clear hint of excitement that contrasted with her calm voice, even though she tried not to appear overly energetic about the relief.
But deep within her heart, she knew that if the war were to continue, they would lose their home...their safety.
Worse, the decree from the kingdom would have been sent for the formation of knighthood battalions from the town, compelling each house to send one of its members.
The Land of Arcadia existed in the center, surrounded by forested areas that separated the borders of two of the biggest enemy kingdoms: an empire made up of three or four kingdoms that it had already swallowed and was moving toward the Land of Arcadia, named the Empire of Rowelia, and the second being the Kingdom of Valhale.
Although the Kingdom of Valhale was small, it was still strong enough to withstand the empire, simply due to its location at the edge of the demon region, where the fog began, covering the place in a way that obscured what existed outside that boundary.
Thus, the Empire itself did not dare to push the kingdom to the brink until they were sure that the fog was not deadly and could backfire on them.
So, they moved not with full force but with dominance, swallowing all the nearby kingdoms while hoping to leave the Kingdom of Valhale for last.
In this battle, her husband had also died after being recruited as a knight and sent to a faraway land to fight against the empire's expansion.
This left her with two kinds of fear in her heart: one for her daughter choosing the path of her father and the other for her to stand against the same enemies who had killed him.
As long as she was alive, she was determined not to let anything happen to her daughter.
But she couldn't force her daughter to choose the path she wanted for her, knowing that time was drawing near and her own soul was weakening.
Once the curse of her bloodline reached its final stage, she would die too.
She knew it.
Time was nearing as her body was dying already from within rapidly.
"Mother? Are you alright?" Astara called out, clearly noticing her mother in a trance state, as if she were thinking about something, evidenced by the way she closed her eyes and tightened her fingers around the utensils.
Astara found it doubtful whether her mother was thinking of something else, such as worrying about her children's future when she should be caring more about herself.
"Huh, y-yes, of course." There was a clear bloom on the woman's wrinkled face as her hand, infused with new vitality, rushed to her chest.
All the stress she had regarding the upcoming war and how she should somehow withdraw Astara from Sam vanished instantly, making her grab Astara's hand tightly, causing Astara to become flustered.
"Heh, heh, m-mother?" Astara blinked, as her mother, even with her wrinkled face, seemed to have her glow back. She looked at Astara and said, no, more like declared, "I am going to cook something good today, so go catch some fish from the pond."
"Eh, what?" Astara blinked again, trying to fathom what her mother was talking about, given she had already cooked whatever was best and affordable due to the arrival of Sam for the marriage proposal.
Even though Astara didn't want to go, to keep her mother happy, she accepted, if not to avoid punching the goon and ruining her mother's mood.
"Hmm, then it's decided." Her mother, leaving Astara's hand, clapped her hands together, clearly appearing to have her vitality restored and motivated to cook something for her.
"M-mother—" Astara bit her tongue, recalling that she had just eaten something that cost them a week's worth of savings. Days of tight expenses gone just like that, and now her mother was asking her to go catch fish when the ticket for it was three copper coins.
She turned toward her mother, finding her moving toward the kitchen to prepare the spices needed for it.
Or, she tried—
Tried to, but as she did, suddenly she felt her body stumble. Her head was struck by dizziness, completely trapped within its own glitch as the world turned upside down, and she directly fell.
Thud
'!?!'
"Mom!"
"Mother!"
Both Astara and her brother lunged out of their chairs, sprinting as they stretched their hands to grip their mother and lift her up. Her body was completely cold, eyes shut. The clear signs of her disease returning were evident as they instantly placed her on her legs.
Panic seared in Astara's eyes as she swiftly looked toward her brother, who was just as panicked as she was, and yelled, "CRUXY! DIDN'T YOU SAY SHE WAS HEALED?!"
It was an instant reaction, recalling how just a week ago her brother had brought a very expensive medicine and prepared it using the herbs they collected together from the mountain edge while risking their lives.
After feeding their mother, she was clearly recovering. She was becoming strong again, but suddenly this disease, this cursed disease, returned and struck their mother like this in front of them, causing both of their hearts to thump against their chests.
"Wait, Mom, Mom, wait, no... that man said it would work." Cruxy moved toward his bag to pull out some herbs to at least give their mother temporary relief, given how her body had become cold like someone on the brink of death.
"What?!" Astara seemed to lose her composure for a moment before bringing her right hand to her face, eyes closed, trying to calm herself, knowing well that if she panicked, her brother would too.
Taking a deep breath to compose herself and clenching her jaws, she swiftly lifted her mother, practically in a princess carry, demonstrating the delicate strength hidden behind her bones before moving her toward a room upstairs.
"Sister! Feed her this; I will come after and bring the medicines!" Cruxy swiftly yielded, giving her the herbs before sprinting outside the home to gather the necessary herbs he had sold for a price in the market, neglecting the fact that they might be needed for their mother.
He had trusted the medicine he gave her a week ago. He sprinted out while Astara nodded, climbing the stairs.
'Calm down, Astara, no, not yet.' Astara kept a stern external appearance as she moved. Clearly, as her brown thick fabric skirt slightly lifted below her knees, the sandals she wore revealed her feet, which had scars and wounds resembling those made by thorns, as if she had intentionally walked on thorns.
Exactly, she regularly had—
There was nothing she could do...
If she were to become weak and let the secret that she also had the same disease as her mother leak out to her family.
If she, who should be the one they look up to, became weak or looked weak, they would shatter. They would break apart.
They would fall into despair.
So she pushed herself to be strong, and if not, then at least act like one...
"Haah..." She sighed as, upon arriving on the roof, she looked toward her mother, who was unconscious with both hands on her abdomen, in the princess carry, her face pale. The symptoms of blood stopping in her veins were clear.
It was as if familiarity struck Astara's mind so vividly that she could see it was the same cursed disease that she herself possessed. She had inherited it from her mother.
Perhaps it was in her maternal bloodline. She could at least guess that much, which was one of the factors that led her to not want to marry anyone.
She just hoped to end this cursed disease with her, to walk the path without hurting her only remaining family.
"Don't worry, Mother, Cruxy will soon bring the medicine." She moved before, with her leg, kicked the door open, though not with enough force to break it and cost a good amount of money.
She entered and laid her mother on the nearby bed, clearly checking her pulse, rubbing her palms swiftly to increase the heat and blood flow.
After doing enough, she moved, hurrying toward a drawer and grabbing it with both hands, hugging it as if she were exerting her whole body to push it aside.
"Urgh... why is it heavy today?!" Given her hands becoming numb from the sudden heart racing, shock, and unconscious grief of what might happen to her mother, she wasn't able to exert much force, yet she pushed.
The adrenaline within her body rushed, giving her the strength she needed. As she pushed, she revealed a small box within.
She swiftly lifted its lid, and inside was a bunch of thorns.
It was a bush made of thorns, holding the marks of dried blood on it. She moved her hand without fear, and as two or three thorns pierced her skin, she pulled it out before moving and poking her mother's finger with it.
She was not cruel, nor did she want to hurt her mother. Even just seeing a thorn hurt her; she felt the pain. But there was no remedy she knew except this.
Astara herself walked secretly on those thorns every night in her room.
Just to stay alive... for her family.