B-ronken-R-ing 159...

***

Cárcel's form slowly traveled down the winding path of Logorño Hill. Inés stood by the window of the small storage room, which was quite cramped aside from the area where she had placed all sorts of random household items. She chased him with her eyes until he disappeared from sight, then turned around, her thoughts as restless as her feet, tapping nervously against the cold, bare floor. Then she paced around the cramped space, her mind replaying their conversation.

The heavy silence that had filled the room after his question lingered in her memory. He had patiently waited for a few minutes, before reaching out to stroke her hair gently. "I understand if you cannot give me a response, Inés, and you do not have to. It's quite all right," he had whispered soothingly, as if tears were still falling from her eyes. Then he placed a light kiss on her temple and glanced down at his watch. "I must dress and leave very soon. I am already late." He quickly gathered up the gifts strewn all over the floor and bed, then smiled at her as if she had gently handed him the packaged objects instead of tossing them at him. "Thank you for these," he had said. "You always bring me so much joy."

Her lips had moved aimlessly, as if she was just about to say something, but no sound escaped in the end.

Although he had given her the same smile that she had envisioned while picking out the gifts, everything else was just wrong. She thought about the wound on his head, the paleness of his face, and the presents and letters that she had thrown the carpeted floor. She had never imagined delivering them in such a manner. She felt like she had taken the heart that he entrusted to her and tossed it on the floor like a piece of garbage.

Before he left, he had told her, "Please try to get some sleep. Do not bother yourself with thoughts of a man like me. I will see you later."

Yet here she was, doing the exact opposite of what he had said. She tried to remember the way that he had looked at her while uttering those words, but the memory was hazy. As he walked out of the room, she had entertained the possibility that things were not, in fact, "quite all right". After all, she had never given him a straight answer regarding the topic.

Silently, she stared down at the gifts still scattered over the floor-the ones that she hadn't managed to grab earlier in the day. She didn't know where she would begin and end her story even if she decided to give him an honest answer. Every single explanation that she could come up with would sound like the rambling of a madwoman.

It wasn't that she wanted to keep everything a secret from him-quite the opposite, in fact. She did not wish to simply list the things that had happened to her. No, she wanted to tell him about the depth of the suffering and weariness that she had experienced, and the lifetimes that she had traveled through so that she could be with him. Then she would explain that she could finally live by his side without being forced to endure any pain or sorrow.

But it would take several more years until she could share those things with him. She wanted to wait until everything was absolutely perfect, and all of their days were just as happy as the ones they had spent together at the hunting ground. She had to wait until their lives were so intertwined that neither one of them would flee in terror as she revealed the complete truth.

However, that time had not come yet. She bit down hard on her lower lip as she thought about Oscar's eerie stare. She couldn't risk placing Cárcel in even more danger. If Oscar noticed anything strange about his behavior...

She forced her train of thoughts to come to a screeching stop, and barely managed to steady her breathing. If she told him about her past, they would have to tear down all of the years that had come before their conversation and build a new life from the rubble-and they would have to destroy not only the life she had lived before she opened her eyes as a six-year-old, but the one that she was currently living as well.

Surely, everything would change once she shared her secret... but now was not the time.

Inés bent down to pick up the gifts scattered around her feet, then placed them all on the desk. Once her task was finished, she turned her gaze back to the path. The sun was now high up in the sky, and its rays were shining upon the reddish roofs of the houses near their residence. She could see a hint of the ocean's sparkling surface over the hill.

She glanced down once again to study the crumpled wrapping papers and the half-untied ribbons, then hid her crumbling face behind her hands. Too late, she was starting to realize that she should have given him something other than those meaningless trinkets. She hadn't wanted to see that expression on his face, either...

For a few minutes, she silently stood by the window like a stone statue. Then she finally came to a decision.

***

"Remember that your well-being is of equal importance as mine. Remain ever vigilant and protect yourself.

Your loving wife,

Inés Escalante de Perez."

Cárcel stared at the short letter in his hand, seated at his desk in his office. After a long moment, he silently reached over to open another envelope.

"These would be more appropriate for the officers under your command.

Ever yours,

Inés Escalante de Perez."

A smile crept up on his lips. He snorted in disbelief and scolded himself inwardly for acting like a lovesick fool, especially after the incident that had occurred mere hours ago.

Yet, it was a futile battle whenever it concerned his wife, Inés. She held such an unparalleled influence over him that it was always so easy for her to make him smile like an idiot or cry his heart out.

Raúl had brought him seven of her letters from the residence near the naval headquarters. Combined with the ones that Cárcel had picked up from his residence as he left earlier that day, she had written twelve letters to him in total.

Something incredible had transpired in Calztela while he had been driven near to death's door on his journey back from Bilbao. He even examined her handwriting with Raúl to ensure the letters hadn't been forged, though he had been exposed to her graceful script since childhood. According to her faithful servant, the letters were indeed penned by Inés herself.

Raúl usually rolled his insolent eyes at Cárcel's unbridled love and adoration for Inés. However, on this occasion, even Raúl had looked quite surprised as he handed over the letters he had retrieved from the other residence.

"I knew that Her Ladyship had sent a number of presents from Mendoza that week... but I never imagined she would take the time to write so many letters," Raúl muttered in disbelief from where he stood next to Cárcel.

"Twelve in total," Cárcel responded, his smile widening.

At this, Raúl gave him a small shrug. "Indeed, although most of them are little more than a single line in length."

But Cárcel was hardly listening. "These are twelve years' worth of letters," he whispered in awe.

It became clear to Raúl that his next task would be to have all twelve letters carefully framed. He couldn't help but let out a faint sigh of annoyance.

Regardless, Cárcel simply beamed at the fact that Inés had written so many letters for him, telling himself that sometimes quantity did triumph over quality and that outward appearances held their own charm.

Behind him, Raúl grumbled, "Some of them are so brief that Her Ladyship's signature is longer than the message itself."

"That is completely false," Cárcel responded sternly. "Take this one, for example." He picked up one of the letters that was a bit longer than the others and proudly displayed it to Raúl.

"Live a long, healthy life.

Yours devotedly,

Inés Escalante de Perez."

The letter was by no means lengthy-in fact, the actual message was shorter than her signature. However, it was definitely longer than those that simply read, "Be well."

"Even her name is beautiful," Cárcel murmured dreamily.

"You are attempting to distract me from the fact that the signature is indeed longer than the message," Raúl noted.

But Cárcel paid him no heed. "How extraordinary it is that she was born with such an elegant name... Perez has truly been blessed by her presence. Oh, how fortunate I am to have her as my wife!"

Raúl could only respond with a resigned roll of his eyes.

After a moment, Cárcel muttered, "However...it seems all of these letters are solely concerned with my well-being."

"That would be an accurate observation, my lord," Raúl replied, his gaze drifting to the bandages wrapped around Cárcel's head. It was obvious why Inés had been so anxious that she had suddenly decided to send a ridiculous amount of weapons to their residence, especially considering that she knew about the assassination attempt.

Cárcel picked up one of the letters and squinted at the elegant script. "I suppose she wishes for us to share a long life together, and I am grateful for that... But I was hoping that she would mention something else."

"Perhaps a remark on your handsome looks, my lord?" Raúl asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, nothing of that sort. Something more mundane, such as, 'I bought this rifle because it reminded me of you'..." he trailed off in thought.

After a short pause, Raúl said carefully, "With all due respect, my lord, that sounds more like a threat than anything else."

"She would only threaten a man if she held him dear," Cárcel responded with a hesitant smile, as if he wasn't quite sure if he had the right to fully display his satisfaction. Then he gently ran his fingertips over the words on one of the letters.

"Your loving wife, Inés Escalante de Perez."

Those simple words made him feel like he were soaring above the clouds.

However, his smile slowly faded as the events of that same morning crept back into his mind. He silently berated himself for not abandoning the Tilidad somewhere in the forest that night at the hunting grounds. He should have pretended that those herbs never existed and told Inés that he anticipated the day they would have children, who would hopefully inherit her beautiful eyes... that he needn't have worried, and that she would always be safe and well...

Suddenly, her words echoed in his mind. "I was fine before I ever had that medicine. Even when I had five, no, ten seizures every single day, I-"

His face stiffened as a tendril of concern crept back into his thoughts. He stared at her letters once again, remembering how she had struggled to breathe after discovering the Tilidad.

Even though he deeply regretted taking the herbs, he was still relieved that Inés was not currently bearing a child. At the same time, he despised himself for allowing her to be excited about a possible pregnancy when he knew that her joy was in vain. His heart ached as he imagined how she must have hidden all those gifts, waiting for the perfect moment to surprise him-something she had never done before. The tangled emotions within him gave rise to an overwhelming wave of nausea and guilt as he realized that she had only encountered the evidence of his horrible deceit.

He recalled the dull, lifeless look in her eyes after she discovered the Tilidad-she hadn't even tried to resent him. His heart clenched painfully at the memory of that suffocating moment when she claimed to have lost all of the trust she had for him.

"I wish I could kill you with my bare hands," she had said. "Then... I will follow. Did you know just how excited I was every single time... and the crushing disappointment that I felt whenever I saw blood on my undergarments again? I wonder how ridiculous I must have looked to you..."

Those words had dragged him into the depths of hell itself. But even then, he was thankful that she wasn't bearing his child. The clash of those two contradictory feelings had torn him apart, leaving him to wonder what she would think of him if she could glimpse the turmoil of thoughts racing through his mind.

His gaze dropped to the hand that had been wrapped around her neck. He could vividly recall how her pulse had quickened and her breathing had grown shallow beneath his touch. In that moment, a terrible fear had seized him, the dread that he might break her delicate neck if he applied the slightest pressure to it. Then he was struck by the horrifying realization that Inés-who had always faced her trials and tribulations with an unyielding pride-had already died and could die again.

He wondered how she had managed to drive a blade through her own neck, when he was terrified of so much as leaving the faintest scratch on her precious skin. Whenever that dreadful image forced its way into his thoughts, he felt like his own throat had been slit open.

Perhaps that is why she does not fear death...

His train of thoughts was interrupted by Raúl's voice. "I have locked away all of the items from earlier in the greenhouse as you ordered, my lord. Shall I arrange for the remainder to be transported to the residence on Logorño Hill?"

"Yes, that should be fine," Cárcel responded after a pause.

"Also... I am not entirely sure what happened," Raúl began, choosing his words carefully. "But surely, Her Ladyship didn't mean what she said this morning. I am only referring to the hurtful words, of course..." Earlier that morning, he had been climbing the stairs when he heard a commotion on the second floor. He had immediately turned back, meaning that he could only guess at what the yelling had been about. Cárcel lifted his gaze from the letters, fixing Raúl with a sharp stare. The traitorous rat seemed to believe that his own master had been in the wrong, and that it would only be appropriate to comfort her husband instead.

"Perhaps you would be interested in knowing that /was the one who distressed her," he said coldly, as if to scold Raúl for assuming Inés was at fault when the true culprit was sitting right before him.

"I figured you would say that, my lord," Raúl replied with a nod. "But I simply wish to shed light on what led to her outburst... You see, Her Ladyship has been deeply troubled ever since she discovered your wound in Mendoza."

"I'm aware of that," Cárcel said with a light sigh.

"No, my lord. She was so concerned that she took Lord Valeztena's carriage, the one that he uses for his discreet outings, and secretly returned to Calztela," Raúl continued. "Then she waited for your return for the next six days even though she didn't hear a single word of your whereabouts."

Cárcel blinked in surprise. "Six days...?"

"Yes, my lord. Her Ladyship may have told you that she returned only a day before you did, but it was actually five. Once she arrived, she stayed in that small room on the second floor the entire time so that she could be the first to see you on that path on Logorño Hill upon your return."

Raúl then continued to defend the "hurtful" words that he believed Inés had hurled at Cárcel, saying that they likely stemmed from the anxiety and frustration of days spent worrying and waiting.

"She... did nothing to hurt me," Cárcel finally managed to say. Then he bit the soft flesh inside his cheek and fell into a long silence.