I Will Be the Greatest Knight-Chapter 249: Letters

It was another week before Irene even made it out of bed. Her ankle was far worse than she could imagine, and each time she moved too much without a bandage on, it felt like her body was going to split open once again.

However, the worst part of the injuries she had sustained was the fact that each night she had dreams that seemed to come up with the fragments of her memories. She was getting answers to things she didn’t exactly want.

One night, all the missing pieces came together with the most graphic dream yet. The girl woke up in the middle of the night after dreaming about the axe that had slashed her down once and for all.

After that, she hobbled to her parents’ room, where she lay between the two of them as she calmed herself down. It was like she had reverted to a child again who had bad dreams.

Unfortunately, these bad dreams were her reality. Learning how to cope with it was what was going to be so difficult.

Her making it all the way to her parents’ bed in the middle of the night was what convinced her father to let her write a letter to Sir Gunnar.

Considering the order in which events took place, she was never able to update him about what had happened when she went to the Duke’s Tower. It was eclipsed by Leif’s death, which was then eclipsed by her moment of complete madness.

She regretted showing herself like that to anyone, especially Felix.

"I think I ought to write a letter to Felix as well," Irene explained to her father as she sat down at his desk.

He had carried her all the way there.

Unlike usual, the former knight sat in the guest’s chair and across from his daughter. It was interesting to see her looking so old and so much like a woman rather than the girl he remembered. She had grown up so much since the last time he had been able to see her.

Her desire to write Felix a letter struck Arthur, and he stared at his daughter with wide eyes for a few moments.

"Irene, there is something you must know before you can begin," Arthur warned.

She merely stared at her father, waiting for him to continue. Her heart was racing, but she didn’t know what else could possibly be said to her. She was injured and unable to fight. Wasn’t that all she needed to know?

"Felix was the one who rescued you and brought you to the infirmary tent," Arthur explained. "He’s also the one who tried to hold your injury closed so that you wouldn’t bleed to death."

Irene’s mouth hung open. Her head felt hot.

"Then... He knows," she responded, horrified.

"I don’t believe he is upset with you about this fact," Arthur responded gently, knowing how hard it must have been for her to learn. "After all, he was the one who guarded you the entire time you were sleeping before I was there."

Irene nodded slowly, but her gaze had dropped, and she was feeling contemplative.

"Even if he is upset with me, I would still like to write him," she muttered. "I want to thank him for rescuing me. I understand if he’s disappointed in me because I acted so irrationally after Leif passed away."

"Then I will leave you to it," Arthur responded. "Please call for me when you want to leave."

"I will, father," she responded.

With that, the girl got to Sir Gunnar’s letter first. It was going to be less nerve-wracking to write, after all.

She detailed to him all she saw in the Duke’s Tower: the destruction, the constant monster activity, the chaos. Most of all, she wanted to tell him that the clanking in the basement still hadn’t ceased. With each clank seemed to be another burst of smoke, but it was going to be impossible to get to it unless they found an alternate way. She also talked about believing there may be tunnels elsewhere because smoke rose from the ground in other places.

The last thing she requested of her knight was forgiveness that she had acted in a way that took another helping hand from the battlefield. She complimented what he had done for her as her knight. If she had a choice of who to be her knight from the beginning, she always would have chosen him.

When she completed that letter, she moved on to the blank page where she would write Felix, but she merely stared at it for a few moments.

How was she meant to begin a letter to someone she had lied to for years? They had so many moments with one another where they relied on each other heavily for comfort while it felt like hell was setting over them.

If he threw it all away because she broke their trust, she could only be understanding. The mere thought made her want to crumble, but she managed to hold it together.

She tried to think on the bright side because whenever her thoughts became too dark, her whole body ached even more.

Since there was nothing she could do except move forward, Irene began the letter slowly.

First, she thanked him for helping her not just the last time but many other times while they were living in the hell that the past couple of years had been. It went by in a flash, but so unbelievably slowly at the same time.

She told him that she wished she were there fighting alongside him as she had always done before. At the end of that paragraph, she asked him to hold out hope.

Finally, she apologized to him over and over again. Not only for leaving him behind, but for never revealing who she truly was to him. She explained that it was her parents’ wish to keep her safe. Since all she wanted to do was be a knight, that was the one thing she promised to do.

The teenager then finished the letter, talking about how much she hoped to see him again soon and wished him the very best.

Irene closed both of the letters and stared at them for a while. Her thoughts drifted to the fragility of life and how death was always looming, whether they liked it or not. Would the two she sent letters to ever see them? Would they be taken away unfairly, like seemingly everyone else had?

Before she could delve into thoughts that were only meant to hurt her further, she called her father to take her back to her bed.

Her head was pounding, and she hated to admit that she needed to rest.

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