Odelliana blinked, processing his logic. Then, a surprised laugh escaped her lips. “So, are you seriously proposing? After just one day?”
“Does the length of time matter?” he returned, undeterred. “We faced life and death together. Isn’t that a strong enough bond?”
“Your sense of romance is certainly… unique,” Odelliana admitted, a hint of amusement in her voice. He chuckled in response, seemingly enjoying her bewildered reaction.
“Well, I wasn’t aware you had a thing for blood-stained damsels,” she countered, surprised by the young man’s naive boldness. “Perhaps you overestimate the romantic aspect. While trust is crucial, it can blossom in many forms, not just love.”
“True enough,” the boy conceded, “but wouldn’t romantic love foster the deepest trust?”
Odelliana’s smile vanished. “Emotions between men and women? Feeble things. I’ve witnessed the cruelest betrayals fueled by misplaced trust in love.”
Memories of a past betrayal surfaced, a bitter cocktail of love, manipulation, and death. The very heart she believed held love now felt like a cunning scheme. The sweet whispers of affection, a mere tool for personal gain.
Never again, she vowed silently. The experience had left her scarred, a tangled mess of fear and suspicion where love once bloomed.
“How will you take responsibility of me then?” Matthias asked.
“I’ve lost everything,” he continued, his voice low. “My home is gone, and I’ve made enemies of everyone here. That man,” he gestured towards the body, “was a leader in the Köbeck organization. Killing him makes me a marked man. I’ll spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, terrified of what’s coming.”
Odelliana didn’t respond immediately. Wouldn’t a show of fear be more believable? Perhaps his words were a performance, a desperate play for sympathy. Yet, even with his detached tone, she understood his predicament.
She approached the fallen leader, retrieving a flyer from his grasp. Blood smeared the letters, some illegible, but the message was clear. Handing the damp flyer to Matthias, she watched him slowly absorb the information.
“Let’s go together,” she finally declared.
Matthias stared at her, his expression unreadable.
“Love isn’t the only path,” she continued. “Fate can bring people together in unexpected ways. We may have only met today, but we’ve already shared life-or-death moments. This isn’t a fleeting encounter. You can come with me. II may not have a grand mansion, but my home is far better than this.”
Odelliana reached out her hand, her gaze locking with Matthias’s. He mirrored the gesture, his palm outstretched as if urging her touch. “I’ll be your guide in life,” she declared. “Take my hand. Consider me your sponsor, leading you through life’s shortcuts.”
The audacity might seem comical to others. Here she stood, an unrecognized noblewoman with a pittance for wealth, yet she offered herself as a patron to this disheveled young man. Some might scoff, calling it the arrogance of a pauper or the delusion of a fool. But Odelliana held firm in her conviction, an unshakeable belief that Matthias wouldn’t refuse.
A new thought struck her. Perhaps Jocelyn wasn’t the one who chose Matthias. Perhaps it was Odelliana herself, drawn not by wealth or titles, but by something deeper. Perhaps it was an innate intuition, a recognition of the hero Matthias was destined to become. She possessed an unshakeable faith in his extraordinary potential.
“A sponsor,” he mused. “I prefer a personal relationship over a business one.” A slow smile spread across Matthias’s face. His large hand reached out, engulfing hers in a firm grasp.
“A teacher,” he corrected. ‘I’d rather have you as a teacher than a sponsor, since you’ll be guiding me.”
Odelliana’s breath caught. He then bent one knee, a gesture both unexpected and strangely familiar. With a surprising grace, he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.
A spark of recognition ignited within her. This was a formal greeting, a sign of respect reserved for the nobility. Though Matthias might not have consciously known this, his actions exuded a reverence few could match.
“Your promise to guide me with your own hand,” he murmured, his voice low and intense. “You’ll have to keep it..”
“Master.”
