I Will Be the Greatest Knight-Chapter 477: Coming Clean
Seeing Irene entering the dining hall with a miserable expression on her face caused Felix to tense up. His eyes were set on his friend, but he realized hers weren’t set on him.
His suspicions about Irene and Henry’s relationship had risen before, but he always pushed them away, deciding it wasn’t kind to speculate about his friends. Yet there he sat, watching his friend who had never opened her heart to anyone, searching for someone as if he were the answer to everything.
It went so far beyond the bounds of knight and commander, but he wasn’t judging her for finding solace within a knighthood. He would be hypocritical to deny someone else happiness through an unconventional pairing.
And then Irene finally looked weak as she melted into Henry, who had met her where she was. To Felix, there was no denying it any longer.
When he saw that the others were staring, Felix lightly cleared his throat, quietly telling them to give them a bit of space. Things were going to get complicated as it was.
Henry was holding onto Irene, but he looked over his shoulder at the other travelers in his party. "Continue as usual," he ordered.
Wordlessly, he led Irene outside, happy to feel that it was still quite temperate considering how warm the late summer days had been—as if he had to worry that Irene would ever get cold or even admit to it.
He took her to a log bench, and they sat down together.
Irene sat there looking dejected for a few moments, but Henry remained attentive as he held one of her hands and gently rubbed her back. He silently urged her to continue, but he didn’t want to force it out of her.
When she finally let out a light sigh, Henry felt it was safe to ask, "Your father is sick?"
Irene nodded in response, and her eyes dropped to her lap, where Henry’s large hand was over hers. "Before I returned to the Duke’s Tower, I found out my father had been battling a bad cough for months," Irene admitted slowly. "He’s gone to healers who say that there’s nothing more to do for him. I even lent him a few Volna treatments that don’t seem to do much of anything. But..." She took in a shaky breath. "I can tell his skin is pale. He’s lost weight. Apparently, he also collapsed a couple of days ago. They promised to tell me if he got worse..."
Irene needed Henry enough in that moment to lean into him. Her forehead rested against his chest as she sought his warmth, and tears fell down her face.
"I’m sorry," she uttered, her voice pained.
"Please, don’t apologize," Henry urged.
He wrapped his arms around her.
While there was a slight paranoia in the back of his thoughts that he was the Duke and this was Irene’s hometown, where everyone likely knew her, since she was seeking him, he felt he ought not to deny her right now. Seeing her in this state was breaking his heart.
Irene allowed herself a few moments just to feel everything that had been plaguing her. She felt it was all coming to a head, but it was her fault because she had pretended these feelings weren’t there for so long.
"Can you tell me more?" Henry wondered. "If you would like to. I feel I may be missing a few important details."
The red-haired knight knew it was time, just as her father had said.
She wiped her eyes with the edge of her sleeve, and she sat up straighter. Her head nodded as she prepared herself to tell him more, and forcing herself to try not to cry.
"Over the winter, I noticed strange things between my parents during my time home," she admitted. "They were tense. I even saw my mother sleeping in a guest room a few times. Overall, they seemed exhausted, and I was worried they had started hating one another. It wasn’t until I heard my father coughing one night and heard my mother ask if he was getting worse. After that... they had to tell me, but it seemed like they would have rather kept it from me for longer."
Henry gently squeezed her hand. "It can be difficult seeing someone you know to be strong go through a time like this."
Irene nodded, but her eyebrows lowered as she considered her next words. She said, "But the way they’ve handled this, I feel I can’t trust them to really tell me if he gets worse. What does that leave me with? Waiting for them to tell me he’s died because they don’t want to talk about the sickness until then?"
However, Irene placed a hand over her mouth.
"Forgive me," she apologized. "That was insensitive."
She knew Henry’s father really had died under unfortunate circumstances. Her father was perfectly alive, on the other hand.
"Don’t worry," he responded, offering a faint, reassuring smile. "That was then, this is now."
It was her turn to take his hand into hers as she felt comfortable enough to say more. "I have to admit that I had no desire to return to the Duke’s Tower in the spring after finding out they had been hiding his illness. I feel awful that the feeling is returning. I want to be dutiful to the knighthood, but how am I supposed to stop worrying when the only time I can see my father’s health is by putting myself in front of him?"
Henry hated that that could have been a reality, but he kept his opinion to himself. It didn’t seem relevant at the moment because she was going to feel guilty.
"I understand," he responded lightly.
"But I have to also admit that you were the reason I returned," she explained. "My father thought there was a possibility you could like me... not knowing what we had been through or promised one another at the Winter Solstice banquet."
"He’s quite observant, isn’t he?" Henry asked, smiling faintly. He was happy that the conversation had slightly turned. They hadn’t had a moment like this in a while. "And then you returned to my side only to find that I was the one who was sick." He paused as realization struck him. "Could that be the reason you didn’t want to tell me?"
