After we crossed into the elf forest barrier, rows of archers met us with mages standing behind them. One stepped forward.
"By what right do you enter the barrier of our sacred forest, lowly human? Leave now or you die."
I stepped forward. "I came to return what belongs to you."
"Nothing of ours was lost for someone like you to return."
"I came to bring back three people."
"Enough lies." He ordered his men to take aim.
Miko stepped out of the carriage.
"Lower your weapons."
When they saw her, the shock was immediate.
"Get away from him, Your Highness."
Miko's voice sharpened. "Lower your weapons. That is an order."
The commander went pale. "You lowlife — you took our princess hostage. How low have humans fallen."
"Lower your weapons," Miko said. "That is an order. I will not repeat it."
I'd been traveling with a princess. And I hadn't known.
Worse — I'd had her drive the carriage. Gather firewood. Hunt with me.
I decided not to bring that up.
They lowered their weapons. I stepped forward and said: "I came to return what you lost. I'll leave afterward — I won't come back, and I won't tell anyone about this forest."
The commander said: "We won't allow you to leave. We don't trust your word."
Miko cut him off. "You don't need to leave. You saved me and you saved the children. We'll hold a proper feast for you."
"That's difficult," I said. "Everyone here hates me. I'd be doing them a favor by leaving."
The siblings and Miko started crying. Miko said: "I won't allow you to leave. You saved my life. If you walk out of this forest, I'll follow you."
I smiled. "Then I'll accept your request. Gladly — Princess of the Elves."
Miko wiped her tears and smiled, then said: "Don't call me 'Princess of the Elves.' Call me Miko. Like you always have."
I looked at her. She'd just given them a direct order, and they'd obeyed without a word. I hadn't seen her like that before.
She noticed me looking and said, flustered: "Why are you staring at me like that?"
"Nothing. I just didn't expect to see an clumsy woman turn into someone important in a matter of minutes."
Her cheek puffed out. "You really are mean."
She ordered them to allow me into the forest. The commander said: "We'll cover your eyes so you can't memorize the path."
I agreed. We got back in the carriage.
Something felt different about it as it moved — strange, smooth, almost too comfortable.
Am I actually in a carriage?
When we arrived they uncovered my eyes.
I had no words for what I was looking at.
"It's beautiful," I said. "This place breathes life. Everything is green — and there's something about it that just settles you."
I kept looking. "It doesn't feel like I entered a forest. It feels like another world. Houses built inside tree trunks, houses built up among the clouds. Who are these people. This place is extraordinary."
The forest received me like a dream no one dared to wake.
The air here wasn't something you simply breathed — it was something you moved through. Cool and soft, carrying the scent of leaves that had never known drought, mixed with the fragrance of flowers that had no names, as if they were made to be felt rather than described.
The trees were not just trees. They were pillars holding up the sky, their trunks rooted with the certainty of something ancient, their crowns disappearing upward where light and leaves tangled into broken gold threads that fell slowly, like silent blessings.
Every step on the grass was met with a faint whisper beneath my feet — as if the earth was thanking me for treading gently.
Somewhere close, water moved. Not loud — quiet, almost shy. A small river threading between the roots like a child playing without waking anyone. Its water was so clear I saw my own face in it. But the face looked calmer than I knew myself to be — as if the forest had returned something to me that I'd forgotten I'd lost.
The light here didn't shine. It held. It slipped between leaves, touched a shoulder, passed over a hand, then disappeared — as if the sun itself was walking carefully out of respect for this place.
And in the distance — signs of life. Small houses carved into the sides of living trunks. Thin wooden bridges stretching between branches. Lanterns glowing warm, not burning through the dark but living alongside it.
I didn't feel like a stranger.
My heart felt strangely light. I was smiling for no reason.
As if this forest already knew me — and without a word, had told me: Anyone who comes here with good intentions finds their place.
I stood there for a long time, doing nothing but breathing. And I understood that some places don't need to be understood. They only need to be felt.
Miko took my hand and said: "I'll show you where you'll sleep tonight. Tomorrow I'll take you through everything."
We reached the house. She left me at the door.
"Good night."
"Are you sure?" I said.
"What do you mean?"
"You're not going to insist on staying? I thought that was your thing by now."
Her face went so red I could practically see steam coming from her ears.
"I — that's not — I wasn't going to—"
She stopped. Then said: "Tai. You idiot." And left.
I wasn't sure what the right thing to say was. So I said nothing.
I looked around the house. I was already missing her.
I didn't want to be alone here.
The house was comfortable. Large. A bathroom, and a balcony.
I showered and went out to the balcony to smoke.
There was a piano.
I touched it. Wiped the dust off the keys. Old — but the keys were clean, as if someone had been playing it years ago and simply stopped.
My chest ached. But I have to keep living.
"Nino always loved the piano," I said quietly. "Her best piece was Moonlight Sonata."
I lit a cigarette. And I played it.
My eyes poured onto the keys as if they were the ones playing.
The moonlight outside was as bright as daylight. The moon still full.
When I finished, Miko appeared — unsteady, crying.
"Tai, you have to go.
They're going to execute you at dawn."
End of Chapter 46